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#we all know Max can’t cope with loud noises
cupidskissx · 1 year
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PROMPT!
“I swear I’m over you, but if you ever do shit like that again, you’re going to set me back to square one.”
with lestappen. duh. 😇
The spin off to @xiaoluclair’s original Spy AU that I finally got a chance to edit to fit this prompt! 🥰🥷
~ 1.3k
“I was making croissants, do you realise how much effort goes into that?” Charles shakes his head, “You pick the worst times to pull this shit,” he tsks as he struggles to unties the thick knots.
Max’s arms are twisted behind his back, linked around a pipe, his wrists bound together. His torso is also tied to the pipe keeping him propped upright. His captors must have learnt from their precious mistake because Max’s ankles are quadruple knotted to the pipe opposite him. Charles’ eyes flick up to the staircase every so often as he works to loosen the first knot that ties his knees together.
“I would have figured out a way to escape.”
“Yeah right, that’s why you doubled texted...”
“I didn’t think you’d see them.”
Max had sent the messages to Charles via their old voice-to-text software embedded into an advanced AI application. The one they used to use to send encrypted sexts to each other when they were dating and posted long distance.
Charles should have turned off his notifications, or better yet, deleted the app months ago, but now’s not the time to think about why he hasn’t, so he just says, “You’re an idiot!”
“You’re not too bright yourself, coming here alone,” Max scolds, “You should have called for backup.”
“They’d only get in the way and make this harder than it already is, stop moving, would you?”
“It fucking tickles, mate,” Max grumbles as Charles keeps accidentally tickling the backs of his knees.
“Oh no,” Max’s genuine dismay causes Charles to look up. Max’s face has contorted into something anguished.
“What? What is it?” Charles asks, checking him over, then looking towards the staircase. They’re still alone in the dank cellar.
“That buzzing noise, it’s the 10 second warning before they blare the most horrific alarm.”
Max isn’t one to exaggerate, he says it how it is and that’s it. Therefore, Charles believes him that this is no small thing. “It’s gone off at least 15 times. Trust me, block your ears.”
Charles shuffles up towards the pipe, pressing his knees into the side of his hip as he leans in.
“What are you d—”
Max falls quiet when Charles cups his ears just in time before that alarm sounds. He can only imagine it’s similar to standing directly under an air raid siren, he flinches, eyes squinting at the intensity of it.
Max tries to pull away, saying something that Charles can’t hear.
“Stop that!” Charles yells, even he can’t hear it.
Max shrugs violently, trying to free himself from Charles’ hands.
“I said stop,” Charles says in earnest and Max gives him an imploring look like he wants Charles to cover his own ears, and that sets those stupid butterflies off. They quickly migrate to be replaced by frustration when Max tries, yet again, to free himself.
Charles resorts to the one thing that he knows will stun him. He leans all the way in, keeping his ears blocked as he kisses him.
That does the trick, Max goes stiff as a board, Charles tries not to smile, adding more pressure for added effect. He isn’t overly surprised when Max kisses him back, but he didn’t expect it to be so hungry! Max kisses like he’s been starved, and it makes Charles’ stomach churn with want and guilt and forgiveness. Why the fuck did they give up on this?
It takes them both a moment to realise the siren has stopped. Max is the first to pull away, cheeks a touch pink. He clears his throat and can’t quite meet Charles’ eye. Charles moves his hands down to his shoulders.
“For the record?” Charles’ voice is distant through the ringing in his ears.
Max takes a breath before meeting his eye.
“I am over you.”
Max snorts, “I can’t say I believe that anymore.”
“But—“ Charles continues, “if you keep pulling shit like this,” he gestures in a sweeping motion up and down his body, “You’re going to give me a hero complex and set me back to square one.”
Max is silent for a long moment.
“Square one is pretty cozy,” Max’s expression is blasé but the way his Adam’s apple bobs gives away his trepidation.
Charles, try as he might, he is unable to prevent his eyebrows from twitching up and his lips from parting. It takes a beat too long to finds his voice, “Is it now?”
“Yeah, it is. You should come over tomorrow night, to talk and stuff.”
Charles was not expecting Max to pivot so sharply, like usual he’s compelled to fight and catch up. “And stuff?”
“And stuff,” Max emphasises, his desire unbridled for the first time in months.
“I’m a very busy man, I might get called out to save another inept colleague.”
“Do you go around kissing the rest of the team as part of a rescue mission?”
“Only the ones I know will kiss me back,” Charles teases.
“You realise the whole team has thought about making out with you a least once, yeah?” Max laughs.
“Fine, the only one I want to kiss me back, then. Better?” The words are out of his mouth before he realises. There’s no point taking them back now.
“Eh, I suppose.”
“You suppose?” Charles leans in again, slowly this time.
“Don’t push your luck, mister,” Max tilts his head, “Untie me first then maybe I’ll consider slipping my tongue into your mouth as a little thank you.”
Charles rolls his eyes, “Now you’ve gone and made it gross,” Charles huffs, and because he loves to test the limits he glides his hands down his arms, moving into him until their chests are practically flush, his fingers finding the knots binding his wrists together. Charles can’t see anything but the pipe at this angle so he closes his eyes and rests his face against the side of Max’s head.
Max has gone very quiet while Charles diligently unties him.
“Everything okay?” Charles mocks him like his own heart isn’t pounding in his chest.
“Yeah,” Max whispers. “You’re making this very difficult, is all.”
“Good,” Charles whispers.
“Charles,” Max is stern, like he means it, bringing home the fact they have a lot they need to talk about, and this is not something they should joke about.
“I know, sorry,” Charles presses his face a bit more against Max’s head in apology.
Charles manages to free Max’s hands, he helps to bring his arms back around without twinging any of his muscles. Charles rubs his red raw wrists for a moment before looping his arms back around him to untie his torso.
Max ends up circling his arms around Charles’ waist, holding him closer, and if that doesn’t set his skin on fire nothing else will.
He fumbles over the knots a few times. “There,” he says eventually, triumphant as the rope loosens. “Now you can finish untying your knees and I’ll work on this,” Charles goes to shuffle over to where his ankles are tied to the other pipe but he doesn’t get very far. He’s pulled into a toe curling kiss that Max is pouring a hell of a lot of effort and gratitude into.
“Okay, okay,” Charles taps his shoulder, and Max lets up, “Don’t wear yourself out. Plenty of time for that later,” Charles promises, pressing a swift kiss to his lips and moving down to free him.
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justlightlysedated · 4 years
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and the last one, this one is almost 10k and is another fic for my dear @bestillmyslashyheart, where michael and alex have unhealthy coping mechanisms after max dies:
one.
The door slams shut after Michael leaves, and Alex just inhales deeply and lowers himself back into his chair, ignoring the way his stomach hurts and how badly his hands are shaking.
Michael knows exactly where to hit him where it will hurt the most, and over the last couple of weeks, Alex hasn’t really gotten any more used to the way Michael can twist every single thing he’s ever told him and use it against him.
Alex figured out early on that fighting with him makes Michael isolate himself, and then the only person getting hurt is Alex, which might suck, but he can more than handle it.
He inhales a shaky breath and turns back towards the computer system he'd set up in the lab to see if he could finish decoding the files from the last Caulfield drive.
"That isn't healthy, you know," Kyle's voice startles him enough that Alex jumps, his nerves already shot from dealing with Michael.
Alex turns towards the side of the room where Kyle had apparently been standing the whole time.
He raises an eyebrow at him, "What are you talking about?"
Kyle just gives him a look that clearly says he’s not fooling anyone.
Alex just shrugs and moves to turn back towards the computer.
“I mean this whole thing that you’re doing,” Kyle says, stepping closer and putting himself firmly in Alex’s peripheral vision. “Where you paint a target on your back and push until Michael blows up at you. I wasn’t sure exactly what you were trying to accomplish until I realized that Michael hasn’t gotten black out drunk since Noah’s funeral, he’s also not picking fights with strangers, and Liz hasn’t complained about him acting like a jerk in weeks which was a daily thing when they worked together before, especially the longer it took to get to the answer.”
Alex turns towards Kyle and studies his face trying to see if he can figure out why Kyle is telling him all of this when Alex already knows it. Kyle is staring at him with the worried eyes and furrowed brow combo that usually gets Alex to go along with his suggestions.
Alex just sighs. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me.”
Kyle gives him a look that says clearly how impossible that task is.
Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”
Kyle tilts his head at him, giving him a disbelieving look and Alex sighs again. 
“Look, what do you want me to say? I know it’s not healthy,” he says, turning to Kyle since it’s obvious that he’s not going to leave this alone. “But I’m not willing to just let him spiral when I can do something about it. And I-”
Alex looks away from Kyle, eyes darting all around the room.
“I want to be a part of his life, and if this is the only way that he will have me, then I’ll take it.”
Kyle exhales loud and rough, and Alex jumps a little when his hands grab on to his shoulders, his heart thunders in his throat, so loud in his head he swears it sounds like a door slamming shut.
Kyle looks at him, eyes serious, and Alex looks right back at him, trying not to feel like all of his emotions are on display on his face. “I’m going to tell you something that’s probably going to be hard to hear, but you need to hear it.”
Alex just blinks at Kyle nonplussed, and Kyle sighs again.
“Michael Guerin isn’t worth this,” he says and shakes Alex’s shoulders a little. “You made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean that you have to martyr yourself paying for them.”
Alex just shakes his head at Kyle and pushes him away. “Don’t worry about me,” he says again. “I know my limits, okay?”
Kyle just exhales again and moves back, shaking his head, “Fine, but I'm keeping an eye on you."
Alex just rolls his eyes again and turns back towards the computer.
-
Kyle uses the worried eyes and furrowed brow combo to send him home two hours later, and Alex drives home on autopilot.
He yawns widely as he slides out of the car, eyes closing and doesn't notice the truck until he practically stumbles into it.
He blinks sleepily and tries to remember if his fight with Michael happened last night or earlier tonight, but he can still feel the sting from his parting words, "Why are you even here? Oh, I forgot. There should always be a Manes present at an alien autopsy."
Alex just takes a deep breath and pushes himself away from the truck, making his way to the back door.
He doesn’t spot Michael until he’s almost at the door and the automatic lights flare revealing Michael sitting down in one of the lawn chairs.
Alex sighs as he turns to face him, putting his back firmly to the door so that he could make a quick getaway, his keys pressing sharply into the palm of his hand as he clenches his fists.
“Something you forgot to say earlier?” Alex asks, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
He’d meant what he told Kyle. He knew his limits, and one aggressive confrontation with Michael a day was more than enough.
Michael doesn’t really say anything as he gets to his feet, and moves closer to Alex.
Alex takes a step back towards the door as he gets a little too close, and Michael stops moving, eyes on Alex like he’s doing something puzzling and Michael is trying to figure it out.
Alex takes in his appearance, his hair messier than usual, his shirt on backwards, a mark too red to be blood on the collar of his white shirt, the way he seems to be swaying slightly in place, and feels a little pang in his stomach when he realizes that Michael is not only drunk, but had obviously had sex with someone.
“Look,” Alex says when all Michael does is stare at him, eyes entirely too focused for someone that Alex is pretty sure is drunk. “I’m tired, so can we just skip to the end of this argument. Yes, I’m a terrible person by virtue of being born into the wrong family. No, I absolutely bring nothing to the table but information I only know because my family tortured it out of your family. Obviously, every single choice that I have ever made about us was designed to hurt you on purpose. And I am the last person that you actually want to be around on a daily basis. Did I get it all or have I missed something?”
Michael just tilts his head to the side, eyes getting narrower the longer Alex kept speaking.
Alex just rolls his eyes a little when he still doesn’t say anything.
“Glad we had this chat,” he says and moves to turn towards the door. “We should do it again sometime.”
Alex puts the key in the lock, and then Michael is crowding in close behind him, hands coming up to cage him against the door.
The air is punched out of Alex’s lungs as he gasps, making a low noise at the back of his throat as Michael pushes in even closer when Alex doesn’t immediately protest, sliding an arm low around Alex’s hips and pressing their bodies flush together.
Michael presses his forehead against the back of Alex’s neck and breathes out. Alex shudders in his hold, blinking rapidly.
“Guerin, what?” He says his voice is more breathy than he would like.
Michael inhales deeply and makes a low noise at the back of his throat.
“Did you know that whenever I say something that really pushes your buttons and you’re fighting not to actually snap, you do this whole thing with your face where you clench your jaw and furrow your brow and your eyes get really intense?" Michael speaks, voice a low whisper, and he wraps his other arm around Alex’s shoulder and cups his jaw in his hand tilting Alex’s face to the side exposing his neck.
Michael presses his face there, lips so close to his neck, almost touching the skin of his throat but not quite.
"And it’s almost the same exact face that you make when you push in deep inside of me and are trying to stop yourself from coming or fucking me too fast,” his breath is hot against Alex’s skin, and he slides the hand on Alex’s hip beneath his shirt, palm hot and rough against Alex’s trembling stomach.
Alex swallows thickly, and he blinks rapidly a few times trying to clear his head, which is difficult to do without Michael touching him. Alex desperately tries not to remember that the last time that he had sex was with Michael.
Alex inhales to speak, and Michael presses his lips to Alex’s neck, and the words get tangled together, and he only barely manages to stop himself from moaning.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” Michael admits, lips pressed to Alex’s skin, sending sparks of tingling heat down the back of his neck and all the way down his spine.
“Tried to get it out of my system,” he admits in a low voice, pushing in even closer, pressing their hips together, and Alex can’t help but let out a strangled moan at the way he can feel Michael’s hard dick right against his ass.
“But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about how much better it would be with you.”
He tilts Alex's head even farther and presses a biting kiss higher up on his neck, almost on the hinge of his jaw, and Alex trembles feeling his knees going weak.
"Not the first time that I thought that over the years," he keeps going, sliding his hand lower on Alex's stomach. "But it is the first time that you're right here."
He presses down on Alex's stomach, keeping him in place as he grinds his dick against Alex's ass. 
Alex's hips stutter back and he shuts his eyes tight, and his head feels heavy and hot, and he needs to think.
He blinks rapidly and tries to clear his thoughts, but then Michael opens his mouth and sucks a kiss to the back of Alex's ear, and Alex loses all coherency.
Michael bites down on his earlobe and whispers hotly into his ear, "I want to fuck you, yes or no?"
Alex thinks a little distantly that he should definitely say no, that maybe if Michael had said no the many times that Alex had whispered that in his ear they wouldn't be having the problems that they're having now.
But it's that fact, the fact that Michael didn't say no, that he let Alex take what he wanted because it was what he needed at the time.
And if Michael needs this from him, then there is no way that Alex would tell him no.
Not when it's something that he wants as well.
"Yes," he says and it sounds like it's being dragged out of him.
Michael makes a low sound at the back of his throat that sounds like relief, and he presses another kiss to Alex's neck.
-
They barely make it inside of the living room before Michael pushes him forward into the arm of the couch, making him fold in half as Michael drags his jeans down his thighs.
Alex barely manages to get his hands free and grab one of the cushions before he feels Michael’s hands on his lower back, sliding his shirt up, settling his hands on either side of Alex’s waist.
He drags his hands down, fingers rough, nails biting down as he settles his hands on Alex’s hips and tugs him backwards a little, trapping Alex's hard cock against the arm of the couch.
Alex lets Michael move him exactly where he wants him, and he barely hears the clink and zip of Michael’s belt buckle and pants being undone when Michael drags his hands back up Alex’s back, beneath his shirt, sliding his hands around to his chest, too dry fingertips dragging against his nipples.
Alex shivers and loses himself a little bit in the sensation that it surprises him, sending pleasure down the back of his neck as his voice cracks on a moan, when Michael presses in close and pushes his cock between Alex’s cheeks dragging the head across Alex’s entrance.
Alex’s fingers tighten around the cushion and he drags it to his face, pressing his cheek to it and trying to breathe.
Michael drags his hands down to Alex’s hips and a low groan falls out of his mouth as he starts to move, dragging his cock down the cleft of Alex’s ass.
Alex whimpers low in the back of his throat as Michael keeps moving, a low satisfied hum leaving his mouth, and he’s leaking heavily, leaving Alex feeling wet and sticky, and every single time the head of his cock drags across his entrance, Alex feels like he’s going more and more crazy, until he’s shaking, and he feels hot and dizzy and like he’s going to come at any moment.
“Guerin,” he croaks, pressing the side of his face to the cushion and panting against the rough material. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”
Michael makes a low amused noise and leans over him, covering him completely, before he nudges his chin down against the collar of Alex’s shirt and presses a kiss to the exposed skin, making Alex shiver and close his eyes tight.
“Oh I'm going to fuck you," Michael says in a low voice, pressing his mouth right to Alex's ear. "I'm gonna make it so good you'll be feeling it all day tomorrow."
Alex makes a low strangled sound.
"Gonna be so good for you," Michael says, voice sounding a little too desperate.
Alex just nods his head and breathes out, "Always good for me."
Michael seems to freeze behind him, barely breathing, and Alex fears that he crossed a line, and Michael is just going to leave him there high and dry, but he just presses his forehead to the back of Alex's neck and breathes in deep once before he's pulling away.
Alex barely makes a low noise in protest when Michael backs away from him, but then his hands are on Alex's back again, dragging down to his ass, nails scratching slightly before he's spreading him open.
Alex barely hears the rip and squish of a lube packet before Michael's fingers are pressing against his entrance.
Michael opens him up, fast but thorough, only barely hesitating when he has to work up to two fingers, barely brushing against his prostate.
Alex whines low in his throat, and pushes his hips back, and tells Michael that he is so ready, to hurry the fuck up, and surprisingly Michael does.
He exhales slowly, trying to calm his racing pulse, and he can hear Michael inhaling deeply before he tears open the condom wrapper which doesn’t really help him at all.
Michael wraps his hands around Alex’s hips, and presses in close, “Ready?”
Alex inhales deeply and before he can answer Michael is pushing inside of him,
It pushes a strangled sound of his throat, and he turns his face and bites down on one corner of the cushion, fingers going even tighter, as Michael slowly presses inside until his hips are flush to Alex’s ass, the cold belt buckle and the rough material of his jeans rubbing against the backs of Alex’s thighs.
Michael leans down, pressing his forehead to the middle of Alex’s back, grunting low in his throat.
He barely gives Alex enough time to adjust before he’s moving, standing up straight, hands hooked around Alex’s hips as he starts to fuck him, too fast and too hard to actually keep a steady rhythm, but every thrust he brushes across Alex’s prostate, and it punches out a low moan out of Alex’s mouth every single time.
Neither of them last long, and Michael groans out Alex’s name as he comes, leaning back over him, pressing his hot and sweaty forehead to the back of Alex’s shirt, making him feel even hotter and like he’s about to spontaneously combust.
Alex comes right after him with a moan, Michael’s name mangled beneath it as he buries his face in the cushion, feeling like he’s coming apart at the seams.
Michael stays pressed close for the few seconds it takes Alex to blink back into his body, and then he moves, pulling out and taking a few staggered steps back.
Alex feels his next inhale get trapped sharp and painful in his throat, and he tightens his fingers even more around the cushion as he hears Michael inhale and exhale deeply before there are more footsteps, leading towards the back door.
Alex feels a little too exposed and a little too vulnerable, but in a way that he doesn’t like at all.
Alex doesn’t hear the door close, so he knows that Michael isn’t actually leaving, but the fact that he even left at all hurts in a way that he feels really deep in his chest and the pit of his stomach, sharp and insistent like a stab wound.
He moves then, standing, and hissing at the ache he feels in his thighs and in his lower back and in places that he’d forgotten could ache like that.
He drags his pants back on, but doesn’t bother to button them as he staggers to sit on the couch.
He doesn’t want to take his prosthetic off, not when he already feels an exposed nerve, but it’s pinching in a way that he knows isn’t good.
He exhales in relief as he tugs it off, and then he’s leaning back against the couch, exhaling roughly, and lifting a hand to his head.
He feels a pressure behind his eyelids, and he’s so exhausted that a few tears manage to leak out of the corners of his eyes.
He hears the scrape of Michael’s boots against the floor, and he leans forward, wiping at his face, and then breathing in carefully.
He feels hot and sweaty and like he needs to take a shower, several showers, but also exposed and almost fragile in a way that he hadn’t really expected to come after having sex with Michael.
Michael doesn’t say anything, but he sits down on the arm of the chair, and Alex feels something cold hitting the side of his arm, and when he looks over it’s to see a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey.
He doesn’t really think about it when he takes the bottle and drinks.
He takes several long swallows, ignoring the taste, and then lowers the bottle from his mouth, handing it over to Michael, and gagging at the aftertaste of the whiskey.
Michael makes a low sound, but grabs the bottle before it falls to the floor.
Alex swallows a few times, and then he hears the flick of a lighter and then the smell of cigarette smoke fills the air.
He turns to Michael, who lowers the cigarette from his mouth and holds it out to Alex, blowing a stream of grey smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
Alex takes the cigarette from his fingers and takes a drag, glad at least to chase the taste of whiskey out of his mouth.
They pass the cigarette back and forth, but Alex shakes his head when Michael tries to pass him the bottle.
Alex wants him to say something, anything, something that will make this sick feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach go away, but he doesn’t say a word.
He drinks the rest of the whiskey and then drops the cigarette into the empty bottle and leaves the bottle on the floor by Alex’s prosthetic.
He doesn’t say a word as he gets up, and then seems to hesitate, before he exhales roughly and then leaves.
Alex stares at the way the streetlights from out of the window shine off the bottle on the floor, and listens as Michael closes the door and then starts his truck and leaves.
He exhales shakily and leans down, pressing his forehead to his knees and closing his eyes, an arm wrapped around his stomach.
He breathes in and out, and fights the urge to cry, and thinks that maybe, he doesn’t have the situation as under control as he thought he did.
two.
“We need to talk,” Alex says when Michael opens the door to the Airstream after he knocked so hard that the trailer shook with it.
Michael leers at him, so Alex holds up the folder where he’d put all the information that he could find about unexplained disappearances in Roswell and corresponding Project Shepherd files.
Michael just exhales roughly and turns to head back into the Airstream, and Alex follows after him.
“I know you asked me for this weeks ago,” he says, setting the folder down on the counter to open it. 
He hasn’t really slept in the last two days. Kyle has been busy at work and fielding World War Ortecho, so he hasn’t been around to make Alex act like a normal human person.
He looks over to Michael, mouth open to continue speaking, and the words dry up in his mouth.
Michael lets his shirt drop on the floor, and then he snaps the button of his jeans open and they slide down low on his hips, letting Alex see that he’s definitely not wearing any underwear.
Alex closes his mouth and licks his lips and then looks away.
He told himself that this wasn’t going to happen again, that it was a phenomenally bad idea, especially because it means something completely different to him than it does to Michael.
He had thought that that first time would’ve been it. It had been a lapse of judgement on both their parts, born of frustration, and he had figured that Michael was probably going to avoid him for a while, but that hadn’t been what happened at all.
It wasn’t like their relationship had improved at all. Michael still acted like a complete asshole to everyone, even more so to Alex. They still got into arguments in the middle of the lab when it was late and they were the only two in there. Alex still pushed Michael when he snapped at anyone else in his frustration, making Michael turn on him, and ignored the worried looks that Kyle and Liz shared.
Alex hears Michael kicking off his jeans, and he tries not to think about the fact that he’s already succumbed to this two more times during the last ten days.
“I have some other stuff saved in a f-file,” Alex stutters over his words and they die in his mouth as Michael moves closer, pressing against his side.
Alex inhales deeply trying to calm himself, but that’s a mistake, he knew it was before he’d even taken the breath.
Michael’s scent fills his head, hot and heady, like a humid summer night. The fact that Alex can tell that he hasn’t showered since the last time that they had sex should really be a turn off, but it punches Alex in the stomach with a need so visceral he gasps.
Michael sets a hand low on his back, palm searing against his skin even through the material of his shirt.
“You really came here to talk?” Michael asks, leaning in even closer and pressing a kiss to Alex’s jaw, and when he nudges his nose against his chin, Alex tips his head to the side, letting Michael trail his lips down Alex’s neck.
“Wait,” Alex says, voice airy, but firm, as he moves, taking a step away from Michael and putting some distance between them. He turns towards Michael, which is another mistake, maybe he should just avoid coming to the Airstream from now on.
Michael doesn’t actually wait, almost like he knows exactly what Alex is thinking and what he’s planning to do, he moves, practically stalking forward, and Alex barely has time to lift his hands up before Michael is crowding into his space, pushing him back towards the counter until it’s pressing uncomfortably across Alex’s ass.
Alex’s hands are resting on Michael’s shoulders, fingers stretched out as he tries to stop himself from pulling him in even closer.
He licks his lips and looks at Michael and freezes.
Michael is staring at him in a way he hasn’t in a long time, eyes wide and bright and something new and strange swirling in them that Alex didn’t recognize before but now knows is hope and love and then his eyes drop to Alex’s mouth, and Alex can’t really stop himself from reacting.
He drags his fingers up into Michael’s hair, and Michael’s eyes flutter close, and he sways forward a little, and Alex pushes forward the rest of the way, their noses brush, and then Michael inhales sharply, and moves, pushing Alex back against the counter, and ducking his head, to nudge Alex’s chin up with his nose and press a kiss to the hollow of his neck before moving lower and biting down, sucking the skin into his mouth.
Alex bites down on the noise that wants to leave his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tangles his fingers in Michael’s hair, and he remembers the reason why he wanted to put a stop to this.
It wasn’t because he didn’t want it, because he wanted Michael in any way that he could have him, but Michael hasn’t kissed him. He puts his mouth on every single part of Alex’s body but never his mouth. And there are a lot of things that Alex is willing to put up with, but this is a level of impersonalization that he doesn’t want from anyone, least of all from Michael.
He pushes Michael back, and moves so that he’s not trapped and has a direct line to the still open door.
“I can’t stay long,” he says as firmly as he can, but it doesn’t seem to deter Michael, who looks too amused as he listens to Alex speak.
“I have an appointment to get to in less than an hour,” which was a lie, but Michael didn’t need to know that.
“And I really just came to drop off the file,” he keeps going. “But next time I’ll be sure to give it to you before you leave the lab.”
Michael’s amused face shutters at that, and Alex feels a small measure of relief.
Alex just nods his head when Michael doesn’t respond, and he turns around to head towards the door.
He barely makes it one step before Michael is moving close behind his back, hands wrapped around Alex’s upper arms as he pulls him back, pressing so close that Alex can feel every single inch of him, too hot and too close.
“Stay,” Michael says, voice pitched low, and there is a hint of something almost needy in his voice, that it makes Alex’s eyes fall shut.
Michael pushes in closer, and noses along the back of Alex’s neck, pressing a kiss the skin right above the collar of his shirt, and whispers something too low for Alex to hear, but his fingers go even tighter around Alex’s arms.
Alex can bench press over three hundred pounds, can get in the ring with anyone and come out as the last one standing, can withstand torture, and he has an extremely high pain tolerance level, and still, he’s so weak when it comes to Michael Guerin.
-
Michael slides off the bed, and heads towards the shower, turning the water on and ducking inside while Alex tries to catch his breath and convince his legs that it’s time to move.
He can feel the sting of several hickies on his neck, and he wishes that humans reacted the same to acetone that the aliens did and he could just dab some on the bruises and they’d be gone within the hour.
Michael takes quick showers, and Alex wants to be gone before he comes out.
He manages to drag himself off the bed and into his clothes before the shower shuts off and is in process of putting his sneakers back on when he hears the sounds of a car pulling in and parking, since they didn’t exactly bother to close the door since it was way too early on a Wednesday morning.
Michael’s phone rings where he has it on his desk, and Alex just turns towards it, biting down on his lip and wondering which one of their friends is out there, and if he could get away with saying that he just came to drop off the files.
Liz might buy it if he leaves fast and doesn’t talk too much to her and hopes that she doesn't notice the hickies, but even if he did hide them, Kyle would know immediately what happened and spend another week giving Alex worried eyes as though Alex is about to drop dead at any second, instead of just dropping into Michael's bed.
Isobel would use it against him the next time they interacted, since she loved to throw things in his face when he least expected it.
“Guerin! You home!” he hears Maria yelling, and closes his eyes tightly. She was the last person that he was expecting to come here this early in the morning.
He can hear her boots crunching against the gravel as she gets closer, but before he can figure out what to do, or what to say, Michael is walking past him, pulling up the same jeans he'd been wearing earlier as he goes, hair wet and dripping to his shoulders and down the back of his neck.
"Hey, DeLuca," Michael drawls as he walks out the door, barely giving Alex a passing glance. "Operating hours aren't for another hour, unless you're here for the other kind of service."
His voice is flirty, but not serious, which Maria seems to know from the scoff he can hear, and it's the only reason that Alex doesn't give into the panic attack threatening to take over.
If there was one person that he didn't want to know that he and Michael were having sex, however impersonal it was, it was Maria. And there was no way to disguise what had happened, not with a freshly showered Michael and the fact that Alex knows how he looks, with his messy hair and the stretched out, wet collar of his shirt, and the hickies on his neck.
And anyway, even if he could deny it, Maria was smart enough to figure out the truth.
Maybe, Alex could pretend that he was invisible and hope that whatever it was that Maria wanted would either not take too long or take them away from the front of the Airstream.
"None of the above," Maria answers, and Alex can hear the sounds as she nervously shifts from foot to foot.
"I just haven't seen you at the Pony in a while. and the last time you were there, there seemed like something was seriously bothering you, but you were too busy at the time, so I didn't ask, but I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay."
She sounds genuinely worried, but the inflection that she gave the word 'busy' tells Alex that whatever Michael had been busy with had hurt her enough that she kept her distance until now. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.
"I'm fine," Michael says, and Alex knows that he's lying. "Things aren't flowers and roses, but they never have been for me. You don't have to worry about me, DeLuca, I got things under control."
Alex hears Maria inhaling to speak, and then his phone rings, loud and demanding from wherever it had dropped when Michael had pulled off his jeans.
Alex looks around, a little frantic and takes longer than he should've looking for the phone. He manages to find it right as it stops ringing, and he sighs when he sees that Liz was the one calling, meaning that she had been the one to call Michael earlier.
The phone rings again in his hands, and it's Liz again, so he answers it, pulling the phone up to her ear.
"What do you need?" He asks her, turning away from the door, and ignoring the fact that if Maria looked through the window, she could probably see him, now that he's standing.
"A new lab partner," she says, sounding a little sullen. "Call Guerin and tell him to bring me back my samples, dammit!"
Alex exhales roughly, "Have you tried calling him?"
Alex can hear Liz rolling her eyes, "He only answers your calls when it's not an emergency."
Alex wants to protest that that's not true, but before he can say anything, Liz is hanging up the phone.
Alex pulls the phone away from his ear, and hears Michael saying a little too callous, "I'm a free agent, DeLuca. I don't have to explain myself to you."
"You know," Maria says, sounding upset, voice shaking a little. "You have a funny way of showing a girl that you're not interested. If you're so keen on staying a free agent, then why did you try to kiss me that night?"
Alex exhales roughly and tightens his finger around his phone and really, he was trying to spare Maria more pain, but it seems like out of the three of them, he's the only one who cares about that.
"I wanted to get laid," Michael says, and Alex really doesn't want to be here for the rest of this conversation.
He inhales deeply, clenching his jaw, and walks out of the Airstream.
Michael and Maria both turn towards him.
Maria inhales sharply and Alex can see her turning away and covering her mouth with her hand. 
Michael raises an eyebrow at Alex, face entirely too amused for the situation, but Alex can tell that it's a mask. His eyes definitely don't lie, and they're telling Alex that this is literally the last thing that he ever wanted to happen.
Alex just swallows and drops down the last step.
"Call Liz," he says, looking away from Michael and catching Maria's gaze.
Maybe, if his face had looked even half as upset as Maria’s does right now, when she found out about Michael and him, she wouldn’t have decided that how he felt didn’t matter, but it was too late for that now.
He tries to smile but he knows it falls short when she frowns even more.
He just shakes his head and walks to his car as fast as he can.
He gets in the driver's seat and closes the door on Maria turning to Michael, "You're sleeping with Alex?!"
Alex starts the car and leaves before either of them can drag him back into that conversation.
-
“How long have you been sleeping with Michael?” Maria demands, walking into his house before he even gets a chance to welcome her inside.
Alex turns towards her confused, and closes the door, “On and off for the last ten years?”
Maria gives him a look as if to say that's not what she meant.
Alex inhales deeply and just shrugs a little, settling his shoulders deliberately so that he's not on the defensive. He has no reason to be defensive around Maria.
"For the last week or so," he finally says when she just keeps staring at him.
She scoffs disbelieving, shaking her head a little as she turns and paces once, before turning back to face him. "And you didn't think to give me a heads up? Maybe stop me from making such a fool of myself?"
Alex just exhales, and gives Maria a look, "I didn't think I needed to. The last I heard of it, you told me that it meant nothing and that it was never going to happen again."
Maria looks away at that, blinking rapidly.
"And also, I didn't say anything because there's nothing to say."
Maria turns back to face him. 
"There's everything to say," she says,  contradicting him. "You're having sex with Michael."
Alex scoffs and shakes his head. "It's not like I'm the only person he fucked this week."
Maria flinches at that, but throws him a hard look, eyes glinting a little bit like she's upset at him. "Yeah, but it's different when it's you."
Alex shakes his head, "No it's not."
Maria makes another low disbelieving sound at the back of her throat. "I've spent weeks thinking that Michael and I had an actual chance at turning this thing between us into a real relationship, when in reality it was as hopeless as he said."
Her voice goes a little desolate, hitting Alex a little in the chest, but at the same time her words twist at his insides, anger and jealousy, spiking momentarily before he inhales deeply and calms himself, clenching his jaw.
"I wouldn't know," he says, and Maria's gaze snaps back to him. "Michael and I have never really had a relationship."
She furrows her brow at him. "But you're in love with him."
"One doesn't negate the other,"' Alex says, looking away from her and over the dark living room. "But we're not good for each other," he continues a little scathing. "So it's not like it matters."
Maria just tilts her head at him, and her gaze becomes a little too intense and Alex just shakes his head, "No, this is why we're in this mess in the first place."
"No," Maria says, glaring at him a little. "We're in this mess because you refuse to actually talk to me about the important stuff!"
"The same can be said about you!" Alex snaps back, and Maria just bites down on her bottom lip and looks away.
"I'm just confused," she says with a sigh. "What exactly are you doing with Michael if you really think that?"
Alex raises an eyebrow, "Pretty sure you're the one who walked in here asking me if I was sleeping with him, and it's been a few months since the last time I actually woke up next to him."
Maria closes her eyes tightly and shakes her head once before opening her eyes again.
"So what you're saying is that it's just sex?" She asks him, voice tight.
Alex licks his lips and nods his head once.
"Just sex with someone you're in love with?" She continues and her eyes go really sad in a way that makes Alex bristle immediately.
“Look,” he says and shakes his head a little. “What exactly do you want me to say? That it was a mistake and won’t happen again? Because I can’t promise you that.”
Maria blinks at him a few times, “What exactly are you trying to say?”
“That as long as he wants me, I’m going to be here, in any way that that means.”
Maria licks her lips and her brow furrows and her eyes go more worried than they have been in his direction in a while. 
“Alex,” she starts, and Alex shakes his head, taking a step backwards towards the door.
“I already have enough with Kyle to deal with. And I’m only willing to put up with him because at least I can trust that he doesn’t have ulterior motives.”
Maria shakes her head at him, giving him a disbelieving look. “I don’t have ulterior motives. I’m worried about you. This situation you’re in right now isn’t good for either of you.”
“And I already know that,” Alex says. “It still doesn’t change anything.”
Maria exhales and gives him a look like she can’t believe that he said that.
“Listen,” he continues, when it looks like she’s going to try to say something else to convince him to stay away from Michael. “The minute that he decides that he’s actually done with me and wants to actually try something with you, I will stand aside. But he’s not yours, any more than he’s mine, and I don’t owe it to you to stay away anymore than you owe it to me.”
Maria stares at him for a long moment before she nods her head once, and moves to walk past him, to the door.
She stops right beside him, and reaches out to grab his hand.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” she says. “It’s obvious that things aren’t exactly like how I thought they were. But please, take care of yourself.”
Alex just nods his head, but she just gives him a look like she doesn’t believe him.
She lets go of his hand and walks out without saying anything else.
Alex exhales roughly, before he turns towards the door and locks it. He presses his forehead against the door and closes his eyes.
Maybe he should stay away from Michael for a few days, maybe a break right now would be what’s best for all of them.
He pushes away from the door and rubs his hands across his face and into his hair, before he shakes and walks towards the kitchen. 
What he needs is a drink, and then a shower, and then he’ll come up with a plan.
three.
Damian insists on walking Alex to the front door. "Didn't you hear? There's a serial killer on the loose."
Alex just raises an eyebrow in return. "I can take care of myself."
"God, that's hot," is the only comment that Damian makes.
Alex just rolls his eyes, but he lets Damian open the car door for him and lead him to his front door.
Alex slows down as they get to the door turning towards him and Damian looks around, eyes focusing at some point over Alex’s shoulder.
Alex tilts his head, studying Damian’s face as he inhales deeply and then looks at Alex, eyes determined. 
“How do you feel about kisses at the end of the first date?”
Alex straightens up, tilting his chin forward slightly, and he thinks about the fact that he had a really good time, even though he only went on the date because Kyle had told him that Damian was a good guy.
And he was a good guy and also funny and apparently didn’t have much of a filter, but Alex kind of liked that.
Alex thinks that maybe he could actually have a relationship with someone like Damian, but he also knows that it would be an exercise in futility.
Still.
Alex reaches for him, cupping his jaw in his hands and pulling him in close. Damian moves easily into the kiss that Alex places on his mouth, chaste and swift.
He pulls away, feeling a little bit disappointed that he didn’t exactly feel anything, and Damian blinks his eyes open, looking at Alex with eyes that are shining too bright.
“I’m definitely calling you later,” he states.
Alex just shakes his head and lets him go, “I might answer.”
Damian just laughs and turns around walking towards his car.
Alex stays standing there until he gets in his car, and Damian turns back to look at him twice, before he waves as he opens the driver’s seat and gets inside.
Alex waves back shaking his head and then he turns to open the door.
All in all, he thinks, it’s been a pretty good day.
He’d come back home from spending a few weeks in Washington after he’d volunteered for a consultation job, and Kyle had blindsided him with a blind date.
He was tired, but at least he’d gotten a free meal out of it.
He walks inside of his house, closing and locking the door behind himself before he turns the light on, before he turns around and finds Michael, leaning against the back of the couch, arm’s crossed, a frown on his face that deepens when he looks at Alex and the smile on Alex’s face drops.
Alex hadn’t even realized that he’d been smiling until that moment.
Alex hasn’t seen him since he’d told everyone that he was leaving for a few weeks. 
He had waited until the last possible moment, and then had been gone before Michael could confront him alone.
He squares his shoulders and clenches his jaw and tries not to let it show that his heart is beating too fast, and his hands are clammy, and it feels like a million butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach.
"What are you doing here, Guerin?" He asks when Michael just continues to look down at the floor like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen.
Michael just breathes in deeply, but still doesn't look up at him as he speaks.
"You missed the big resurrection," he says, voice coming out almost accusing, but not quite.
Alex nods his head, "Yeah, sorry. I figured I wasn't really needed."
Michael looks up at that, "We couldn't have done this without you."
Alex tilts his head at that, thinking it over before he shakes his head. "No, I'm pretty sure Kyle would've figured everything out eventually. In the long term, Rosa did more than I did. All I have is a wealth of knowledge that I only know because my family has spent generations hunting and torturing aliens."
Michael makes a low sharp sound at that, but then he's shaking his head. 
"I didn't come here to fight about that," he says and pushes away from the couch, boots making a low clicking sound against the tile floor as he steps closer. 
Alex swallows hard and stands his ground, “Then I’m not exactly sure why you came then.”
Michael just shakes his head, and stops right out of arm’s reach, stuffing his hands in his pockets and staring at Alex for a long moment, eyes intense.
“Who was that guy?” he asks, motioning towards the door with his chin.
Alex rolls his eyes a little. "A friend," he says shortly. "Kyle introduced us."
Michael licks his bottom lip and gives Alex a half smirk. "Right," he shakes his head.
And Alex wonders if he's jealous and then squishes the thought down.
"You kiss all your friends on the mouth then?" He asks, almost blurts out, voice full of accusations.
Alex just scoffs, and rolls his eyes again when Michael looks back at him, brow furrowed.
"I don't really have to explain myself to you. Guerin," he says, raising both of his eyebrows. "You've made it more than clear that what we currently have is going to be the extent of our relationship. So you don't get a say if I decide to date someone else."
Michael makes a low protesting sound and steps forward, "So it was a date."
Alex sighs exasperated, "And what if it was? Why do you even care?"
Michael just stares at him for a long moment, looking at Alex like he can't believe that he's actually that stupid.
He moves which Alex had been expecting, backing him up into the door, and Alex lifts his hands to Michael's shoulders, gathering the fabric of his shirt in his hands and moving to push him backwards when Michael cages him in and leans in close, pressing his forehead to Alex's and exhaling roughly.
Alex inhales sharply and feels the air get caught painfully in his throat.
He stares at Michael from way too close, each breath shuddering in his chest as Michael’s eyes fall shut and he breathes in deeply.
Alex exhales slowly, and Michael’s eyes flutter open.
He moves back a little, enough that Alex can actually look into his eyes, which are bright and clear. He looks a lot more sober than he has in what feels like months, and Alex doesn’t know if that has anything at all to do with his absence the last couple of weeks.
Michael blinks a little and then his eyes fall to Alex’s mouth and then back up to his eyes, a question very clearly on his face, but it’s almost like he doesn’t know how to ask Alex.
“Alex,” he says, voice low and right on the edge of desperate.
Alex licks his lips, inhaling deeply, and that seems to be the last straw.
Michael pushes back into his space, caging Alex in, forearms pressed on either side of Alex’s head, braced against the door. He leans in, noses brushing together as he pushes in even closer.
Alex barely has time to inhale sharply before Michael is too close, just barely brushing their lips together.
The move is so slight, but Alex feels it like a punch to the stomach.
He makes a low sound, more of a sob than a groan, and his hands are trembling when he slides his hands up and cups Michael’s jaw, fingers maybe a little too rough, as he tugs him in a little bit closer.
Michael makes a low noise at the back of his throat and his lips part against Alex’s and Alex tilts his head slightly, and moves his chin forward and presses their mouths together just a bit harder, but also soft and trembling, feeling like he just might break into a million little pieces.
Michael takes that as all the permission that he needs.
He moves his arms, crossing them behind Alex’s neck, and making his head tip backwards a little awkward, but he forgets about all of that when Michael presses in closer, pushing up on his toes as he kisses Alex hard and rough, biting down on his bottom lip and licking into his mouth.
Alex drags his hands back into Michael’s hair and twists his fingers around the curls and holds on tight.
He feels terrified, like this is all a dream. Every single part of his body is shaking, his skin feels like it’s on too tightly, it feels like he just may shake and fall apart at the seams at any second, but then Michael pushes in even closer until they’re pressed together so tightly against the door that all Alex can feel is Michael and the overwhelming heat of him, so solid and real.
And Alex feels himself slipping under.
He had told himself that this couldn’t happen again, but he hadn’t expected Michael to kiss him.
He had planned to tell Michael that this couldn’t happen again, that they needed to set up some boundaries, especially if they had to continue to work together, but he should’ve expected that Michael would’ve picked now to do something like this.
Alex tugs against Michael’s hair, and pulls him backwards, and Michael goes unwillingly, whining low in the back of his throat.
Alex inhales deeply, licking his lips and blinking rapidly and trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say, but it’s difficult when they were still pressed so close together, and when Michael just pulls against his hold and tightens his arms around Alex’s neck, pushing in close and kissing him again, deep and wet and all consuming.
Alex sinks into the kiss, dragging his hands down Michael's back, and wrapping him tighter in his arms.
Michael pushes into the nonexistent space between them, dragging his hands to Alex's jaw and pushing Alex's head back until their lips part with a gasp, and he presses his forehead to Alex’s cheek and just breathes raggedly.
Alex swallows hard and blinks rapidly, eyes focusing on the dark ceiling.
“Alex,” Michael repeats, voice cracking a little, sounding like both the question and the answer that Alex was looking for.
“Yes,” Alex says, moving his hands into Michael’s hair, and urging him backwards a little to get a good look at his face.
Michael looks at him, eyes too wet and too wide, and just too much for Alex to bear.
Alex pulls him into another kiss, and Michael moves into it eagerly like all he’d been waiting for was for Alex to kiss him, like he wasn’t the one who’d been pulling away every single time that Alex had tried.
He pulls away then, and Alex makes a low protesting sound, but Michael just shakes his head once, hands moving up to tangle in the short strands of Alex’s hair.
He stares at Alex for a second before he’s breathing in deeply.
“I want-” he starts to say, but Alex is already nodding his head before he can even finish.
“Anything,” he says a little recklessly, but at the moment, Alex would do anything if Michael would just keep kissing him.
Michael’s lips twitch into a half smile, and he just shakes his head a little before he’s tugging Alex back in for another kiss.
Alex pushes into the kiss, pushing away from the door.
Michael staggers backwards a few steps, but he snags his fingers tight in Alex’s hair and drags him along with him.
Alex loses track of his surroundings and doesn’t exactly realize that Michael is leading them somewhere, too busy fitting his fingers against the back of Michael’s neck and keeping their mouths locked together.
Alex feels the backs of his shins hit something solid, and then Michael’s hands are dragging down to his chest and he’s pushing Alex backwards.
Alex stumbles to sit back on the couch, and he swallows hard, feeling his pulse jumping erratically.
Michael looks down at him and then inhales deeply before he’s reaching towards the back of his neck and tugging his shirt over his head in one fast movement.
Alex barely gets his hands on the collar of his jacket, before Michael is dropping into his lap, sliding fingers into his hair and tugging his head back roughly before dragging a hard kiss across his mouth.
It takes them longer than it has the last couple of times they’ve done this to get naked enough. 
Michael kisses him until his mouth feels numb and there is a slow, heady heat sinking deep into his bones, rocking on Alex’s lap in uncontrolled movements until he’s hard and aching, hands tugging desperately against his belt loops.
Michael pulls away three times, and all three times Alex slides his hands into his hair and tugs him back to his mouth.
Alex wants so many things, but more than that, he doesn’t want to stop kissing him, and from the way Michael sinks into the kiss with minimal protest every time, he doesn’t want to stop kissing Alex either.
He pulls back a fourth time, lips making a soft slick sound as he does, and Alex slides his hands down to Michael’s jean clad thighs and rubs against the rough material restlessly.
Michael makes a low noise in agreement and rocks his hips down on Alex’s lap, punching a breathless moan out of Alex’s mouth.
“Okay, okay,” Michael says and then he’s sliding out of Alex’s lap.
Alex makes a sound in protest and Michael just shakes his head as he kicks his boots off while settling his hands on his belt buckle.
Alex stares a little too long as Michael slides his jeans off, and barely has his own pants and underwear down his thighs, before Michael is sliding back into his lap.
Michael kisses him and Alex settles his hands one either side of Michael’s waist, sliding them down to his hips and tugging him in closer.
Michael moves with the touch eagerly, and the move pushes their cocks together.
Michael kisses him for what feels like both an eternity and no time at all, rocking down on Alex's lap, dragging Alex's shirt up and out of the way to move even closer and grind their cocks together on Alex's stomach, making low moaning sounds at the back of his throat with every push.
Michael kisses Alex until he's dizzy and lightheaded and his hands are on Michael's ass, fingers digging in as he keeps him as close as he can.
Michael drags fingers into Alex's hair and pulls his head back, pulling their mouths apart with a gasp. Alex's head drops back to the back of the couch, and he blinks up at the dark ceiling, spots swimming in his vision. 
Michael presses his forehead to Alex's chin and slows the speed of his hips, dragging out the movement, making Alex whine low in the back of his throat.
"Wanna ride you," Michael says in a low wrecked voice, pushing his forehead harder against Alex's chin. "Been thinking about it for weeks."
Alex makes a low noise in agreement and squeezes Michael's ass in his hands before he's dragging his fingers down the cleft and rubbing his dry fingers against Michael's entrance.
"Lube?" He asks, and Michael just leans over and pushes his hand in between the couch cushions, pulling out a tube of lube that looks half finished.
Alex didn't know that that was there, but he's not surprised. They barely make it to the couch every single time this happens in Alex's house, so it's not surprising that Michael has lube stashed there.
four.
--Liz tells Alex that Michael left early cause he and Maria are going on a date, and Alex very nearly breaks delicate lab equipment, when Kyle comes, Alex makes excuses to leave
--he needs to get away from Roswell for a bit so he goes to the cabin
--he gets woken up by Michael, and they argue in bed, and Michael asks him if he loves him, and Alex fights him, and then says yes, and Michael tells him that he wants to try again, and Alex asks him what he’s actually trying to say, and Michael tells him, “I’m saying yes.”
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akimmito · 4 years
Text
Heroes are made by the path they choose
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Chapter 3
The Paris news continues to speak of the Akuma two days after the event, Marinette is stressed coping with the disaster that remained on her catwalk. Unlike in previous years, Paris is not ready to deal with another Hawkmoth again, and the city's mood fell immediately from the moment appeared. Fashion week continues, but everything feels bad. They have not officially left the apartment since the event, although they have been going to the MT headquarters.
She looks at the cup of chamomile tea that Hugo, her butler?, was kind enough to prepare to help her relax, but she knows that a tea won't help her.
"Mother, we should get out of town. You're pale. ”Damian approaches her and analyzes her posture, obviously she didn't sleep the night before because she was checking the security cameras distributed by Paris looking for the origin of the butterfly, but they are more than five hundred and Max's algorithm barely reduced it to one hundred and twenty cameras. He's concerned about her health, he knows how she gets when she focuses too much on a task.
"Do you want to go to the country house?" She asks putting her head on her arm, dozing off from lack of sleep and the calming effect of chamomile. She just needed a distraction from her mind.
"Yes, you could use a break. Felix can take care of everything in the MT and if they need us, we are a portal away. "He maintains his neutral expression, there are days when he reproaches himself for caring for the woman who decided to adopt him knowing that he's a trained killer, but today is not one of those. She never wanted to change it, not as he thinks his father would have done if he had gone to live with him... Bruce Wayne doesn't tolerate murder, after all. The MT is curious, they dance a lot on the gray line. He was lycky to get them.
"Yeah... you're right." Mariette straightens up and rubs her eyes. If they are going to travel, she must avoid falling asleep until they are in the car on the way to the country house. "That reminds me, we can take Ringo, the vet says that its leg is already better and that he can be transferred from the shelter without problems. "
Damian is encouraged by the news, the little cub was shot in the leg by some thieves, the owner despised him taking it as lost, but he asked his mother to help it heal so that it would not die. The puppy is alive and they can take it to a place where he can be safe and be a happy dog. They made the right decision.
"Go get your bags ready. Maybe we will get to lunch time. "She gets up and picks up her phone, she must notify the employees that they will arrive earlier than planned.
Damian goes to his room being followed by Longg, he must get everything he will carry ready. Not even fifteen minutes have passed when he has everything ready, keeping comfortable clothes to be able to play with his pets in the extensive terrain, very different from his normal residence.
Marinette and Damian live on the top floor of an apartment building just four blocks from the Eiffel Tower, she likes the evening view and even has a window where she has placed a mattress. Damian also became a fan of that same location and became his favorite area within the apartment, although he prefers the Animal Shelter and the country house, both of which were bought especially for him, all because she couldn't fill the apartment with animals (despite of her own desires to do so).
The only pet in the apartment is a very demanding fluffy white cat who likes to be the center of Damian's attention, who gets angry on weekend trips to the country house, where it's forced to live with the others animals ... dirty and unworthy of be a Lenoir. The cat is very proud to be the favorite and it hates with all its might the cat of country house, which always steals the child's precious attention (with dogs it doesn't get in because they are very large, two German shepherds, a Garafiano shepherd and an Australian Shepherd, plus a Bernese Mountain puppy.)
Damian is ecstatic with the prospect of spending six days on the country house, although the cat, named Dafne, doesn't look happy and even growled at the boy when he tried to grab it the first time, now it has already relaxed and brought its bad humor to its transport box. He closes the box and takes his things, now all he has to do is wait for his mother to stop being a mess to they can leave.
"Do you have your suitcase yet?" Marinette asks going from one side to another in the rooms, Damian doesn't even answer her and he only goes out to the living room to wait until she finishes messing up the whole apartment. "Hugo, where are my sketch books?"
They're already packed, Miss Marie. Also the fabric catalog of the next collection and the general balance of the month."
Hugo is a very English man to someone who lived in France most of his life, but she's not going to question him about it (Max did a very good background check). He started working with her a year after founding her brand and somehow managed to discover the MT and is now an unofficial member, making her escapades much easier by having him cover her. She's grateful to heaven for making her cross her path, she would have gone mad without him already.
"Thanks, Hugo."
"Hugo, did you pack the Kwami and Dafne meals?" Damian asks when the man returns to the room. He's eager to leave to meet his pets, he sees them every week, but it's not enough time.
"Of course, the extra order for cheeses was also made for the country house."
"Oh, Hugo! You're the best, I hope you live a thousand years!" Plagg arrives full of joy and almost dares to hug the man, but that is not his style, on the contrary, he cheers for the excellent service. "I wish all my kittens would treat me like you. "
Marinette enters the room with her suitcase and looks at Plagg with mock annoyance, amusement seeping into her gaze. She misses Tikki, she was always the voice of reason, but Plagg has a unique way of keeping her high spirited and, with the stress of her life, very much appreciates his presence, daring to consider he more effective than encouraging words from Tikki.
"Yeah, right? It's not like I paid for all your cheese. ”Plagg flies towards her and repeats the action, causing her to finally laugh at his games. Longg lets out a small snort from his position near the boy, he had not made any noise and that causes others to be surprised by his presence sometimes. Damian rejoices when he sees the others jump off  for forgetting that Longg is active too.
"Shall we go now, mother?"Damian takes out some Dior brand sunglasses and the black mask from his handbag to prevent his face from going out in magazines or social networks without his consent, he doesn't understand what is the interest in them, they are only people with a little money and a brand that becomes more famous after each show. In any case, they shouldn't be interested in him and he detests those who do.
"Yeah, we can go now."                                                
Damian smiles with pleasure putting on his dark glasses, which are already part of his daily wardrobe because he always accompanies Marinette to all kinds of events, the least he can do is learn to combine brands and styles for each time he goes out. He usually opts for black, although lately he no longer cares about trying styles and clothes that he would never have considered wearing.
When they go out to the main entrance, where Hugo is already waiting for them with the car, he have already put on the mask and, of course, a curious spectator treats them as if they were the stars of an Oscar-winning film. At least no one can notice his annoyed expression under the mask.
They enter the car and Damian takes the opportunity to get Dafne out, it prefers to travel like this and  they will not change vehicles as when they leave the country, he can carry it all the way. Everyone thinks that he’s too spoiled, but he considers that it's fair since it's the only animal that he's allowed to keep at home.
As the small Lenoir family moves towards the country house, in the MT, Kagami destroys the training dolls with a saber, under the watchful eye of Luka who, from the second level, watches her move with the fury of a hurricane. He mentally notes placing the doll replacement as part of the following month's expense.
"If she continues like this, she will come looking for us to fight with us." Luka turns to the person who has just entered, Alix stands near him, appreciating the power of the cuts and the lethality of the Japanese woman. "The little demon would have a good training match with her. "
"Mari sent a message, they will be at the country house. "
"How envious, I wish I had a place like that to escape to." She yawns, leaning on the railing. "But duty calls.”She mutters when her phone starts ringing to the rhythm of the Seven Nation Army, which means it's a call from work. Alix walks away just waving.
Luka smiles softly, it's a calm day. Perhaps everyone is a little more tense, stressed and with excitement itching their hands, but it's very calm, life continues its course regardless of the problems that may exist. The insignificance with which life itself deals with the matter gives he the certainty that they will solve it, that this time there will not be a third party that stands in their way of recovering Nooroo.
The voices are loud outside the training room and he can see the moment when Nathaniel and Kim enter arguing, Marc is a few steps behind them looking at them with an undoubtedly irritated expression, as if they had been on that same topic for a long time.
"I tell you, if we were to work with someone outside the MT, it can't be Batman. I love my privacy, thanks. ”Nathaniel says tired, he despises eternally the heartless blonde who brought up that subject only to leave saying he had job. Kim is not an official member, hei tournaments trips and constant swimming training prevent her from being one, so he doesn't fully understand why the MT remains so in the shadows (even with the irony that the Parisian media talks about they with the same frequency as Jagged, Clara and other famous faces).
"He would help a lot, you know."
"Yeah, but he would also discover the Miracoulous and that is a resounding no. Our duty is to protect them and the less people know it, the easier it'll be. "
"They mention it in the news!"
"In fact. "Marc speaks behind them, tired of hearing them repeat arguments. "Since decree No. 35 of the current French government was released, any mention of the Prodigies in the media will be sanctioned according to the provisions of the MT, that is to say, us, and of the Parisian heroes, also us. It has even been included in the Constitution as a secret of identity and provenance for the protection of heroes. Chloe was devastating when she demanded a law that protected us and the Kwami, without lying, she put all the cards on the table without mentioning personal gain. "
Kim is speechless, he really didn't know that. When was the last time he updated on the laws in his country? He might as well break some and he wouldn't know it. To take into account, just like talking to Chloe about it.
"You see? Now that we are done with this, can we train? "
Kagami destroys the last doll at that moment and turns to the newcomers, has released all her frustrations.
They are supposed to be starting the investigation into the new Hawkmoth, but the mayor's office has requested that they refrain from starting the investigation for a week, he does not understand the irrationality of that request. She's very angry at the mayor's negligence, the longer they delay the investigation, the harder it will be to track him down. Still, it annoyed her more the way Marinette and Felix so easily accepted orders… when they don't take orders from anyone, they can move around the edges of the law, but they're not below it.
"Has Mari-hime arrived?"
"She texted that she'd be at the country house with Damian, she needs the break," Marc replies before heading to the locker room to change into training clothes.
"Where's Felix?"
"Work." Nathaniel growls the answer and then follows his boyfriend, just thinking about the blonde makes him bitter. An hour arguing nonsense with Kim is enough to put anyone in a bad mood, he doesn't understand how Max can be such a good friend with him.
Kagami frowns and hands the saber to Kim before leaving the training room, she's angry again. What do Marinette and Felix intend? She rarely understands what goes through their heads.
Luka comes down from the second level to intercept Kagami, she's being overbearing on the whole miraculous butterfly issue. He knows that Marinette doesn't play with the affairs of the MT, she doesn't endanger them on purpose and they don't make hasty decisions, only one person is more cautious than she and that is Felix, if the two agreed to wait, they have something keep in mind.
"Kagami." He calls her, but she doesn't stop. "Kagami."
"I'm not listening to you, you're going to defend them."
"I ask you to think about it more deeply. Mari is very serious about retrieving the butterfly clasp, she knows what she's doing."
"Oh, Yeah. I really believe that." She looks at him annoyed, in front of him.
"You are upset, but don't let anger cloud your thoughts. We are all frustrated, eager to fight, but we will only hit a wall if we rush. You have to know when to take a break, this is a good time. "
She purses her mouth, holding back the words. He's somewhat right, their cannt just run into the unknown pretending they know where they are going. Her only answer is a nod before she resumes her journey, perhaps she should go see her mother and stay away from the MT until the break ends or another Akuma appears, whichever comes first.
_______________________________
Damian @DamianLenoir
Ringo is better and today he will meet his new brothers, he is a very happy puppy.
[Attached photo]
Alix @LostHeroBunnix
Why did I think opening an art school would be fun? I should have kept my skates.
Felix @GrahamV_Felix
Should I yell or yell at the worthless one who flooded the set? I just had to turn on a tap, not recreate the scene of the Biblical Flood.
Nath @NathanielKC_twt
@GrahamV_Felix Being nice and not giving a scare of death to the people around you could help you the other people not flood the set. Did you know?
Felix @GrahamV_Felix
@NathanielKC_twt And become Marie? Is not my style.
Marie L. @MarieLenoir
@GrahamV_Felix @NathanielKC_twt Too much style for you, it doesn't fit with you; p
Chloe B. @BourgeoisQueen
Marie take me with you! @MarieLenioir
Damian @DamianLenoir
@BourgeoisQueen NO.
______________________
Ages:
Tomoe T: 50. Bruce: 45. Dick: 28. Luka: 26. Jason: 25. Marie and her group: 24. Tim: 19. Damian: 10.
61 notes · View notes
you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years
Text
Deaf ~ A Max (The Resident) One-Shot
Summary: Max gets a new tenant...and maybe a new family? With all the silence, will Leigh be able to draw Max outta the walls and into her life? 
Warning(s): Angst. Happy ending. Single mother OFC. Mentions of cheating. Bisexual OFC. Hearing issues. Deaf infant. Implied PTSD. Implied childhood trauma. Panic attack. Self-harm. First aid. Non-canon. OOC Max. Slight voyeuristic tendencies. OFC’s P.O.V. Soft Max. Hurt Max. Scared Max. Touch-starved Max. Max just needs some love.
Author’s Note(s): So, I watched The Resident (2011) a couple nights ago, and got this idea. I don’t do rape, so I changed Max’s character so he never goes that far. I also decided to do this from the OFC’s P.O.V. and show a different side of Max, one that would hopefully, kinda sorta, explain why Max seeks the refuge the walls give him. For people that suffer from PTSD, and other mental illnesses, everyone finds their own way of coping with their struggles. I’m not in any way condoning what Canon Max did. I just wanted to try and a different, less creepy, softer side. Also, in this story, Max is not a rapist, nor is he a murderer. And...I wanted a happy ending for Max, so that’s what I gave him.
Word Count: 7,982 words.
Relationship(s): Max x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic]. 
Characters: Max. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Maxwell Dean Sullivan (OMC). Chris Sullivan (OMC). 
Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho @ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan
_______________________________________________________________________
Story Time:
Leigh’s P.O.V. ~
It’s been two weeks since I moved to New York City to start my new job at the museum and try to get on with one of the numerous publishing houses for my next books. Two weeks of sleeping in a cheap hotel room. Two nights of frantically searching for a somewhat cheap apartment that would be big ‘nough.
Two weeks of missing having his little body snuggled up next to me. Two weeks worth of triple FaceTime calls to my brother back in San Deigo just to see his cute little face. Two weeks of missing my baby boy. Two weeks of missing my adopted, six-month-old son, Maxwell. Two weeks of being completely alone in a new place for the first time in years.
It’s been two days since I saw that flyer pinned up on the hospital bulletin board after passing out from dehydration. Two days since I went to that old building that’s close to the huge bridge stretching out over the river. Two days since I saw the fancy apartment still being renovated that was clearly well outta my price range.
Two days since I met him and saw that beautiful dimpled smile hiding under the construction mask. Two days since I felt my heart flutter for the time in nearly half a year. Two days since that deep, slower than molasses but sweeter than honey voice told me it was mine for only $3,800 a month, minus utilities. 
It’s been two hours since he, my new landlord left my apartment after sitting down to enjoy a dinner of takeout from the nearby Chinese restaurant once we’d finished moving my meager belongings in. Two hours since he and I opened up a little bit to each other, getting to know the other person. 
It’s been two hours and I still haven’t stopped smiling. 
Leaning back in my chair, I slide my iPhone outta the pocket of my men’s holey, Skinny Flex American Eagle dark blue jeans. Holding my thumb down on the button so it recognizes my thumbprint, I wait for it to unlock before I click on the FaceTime app and call my brother. I take a deep breath, relaxing, as I wait for him to answer. 
Only...he doesn’t. Instead of my slightly younger brother answering, I get the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. The moment I see my son’s face fill the screen, I tear up and smile. 
“Hey, baby boy! You playing with Uncle Chris’s phone?” I coo in a soft voice.
I don’t get an actual response, but that’s ok. My son Max is deaf. He was born that way and the doctors said it’d be a few more months before we could even try to get him fitted for hearing aids. The said it was a side effect from where his birth mother had been using hard drugs for 99% of the pregnancy, even though I tried to get her help.
Max makes a bunch of soft, cooing noises as he holds the phone close. I realize that he hasn’t noticed that I’m the phone yet. Especially once I see his gums get closer to the camera. I laugh, knowing he’s trying to gnaw on the rounded corner of my brother’s iPhone. Hearing movement on the other end, I watch as the phone jostles, and a loud thunk echos to my end. 
A moment later, two small, chubby hands grasp the phone and my son’s face fills the screen once more. I watch as his eyes widen and he lets out a high pitch squeal, giggling, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Max has finally noticed that I’m on the phone. Smiling, I wave to him and blow him kisses.
It just makes him squeal more, louder, and happier. I giggle and happily listens to his giggles, squeals, and babbles. After nearly 15 minutes of listening to him, and slouching in my chair, the phone jostles once more and I hear Max let out a whine and hear him sniffling, knowing his ‘bout to start crying. 
A second later, my brother’s face fills my phone’s screen and his eyes widen too, making him chuckle.
“Hey, sis. Sorry. Didn’t realize you were on the phone. I guess Max got ahold of mine when I went to fix him a bottle and a small jar of that mushy baby food you picked up for him before you left.” He says.
I smile. “Nah. Max didn’t call me. I called. He answered. Took him a hot minute to realize I was on the phone. Then he started telling me ‘bout the stuff y’all did today. Sounds like a productive day.”
Chris laughs and I watch as he gets settled on the couch in his apartment, holding my son in his lap, keeping him to where he can still see me on the phone.
“Oh yeah.” He chuckles. “Real productive. 3 naps, 6 poopy diapers, and a few bottles.” 
I giggle. “Sounds like it.”
He chuckles more and shakes his head. “Anyway. How’s the city? D’you switch motel rooms? That don’t look like the one you’ve been staying in.”
I grin from ear to ear. “That’s actually why I called you. I found a place. By the river and train tracks.”
“Yea? That’s great! You all moved in?”
“For the most part. All that’s missing is little man. Oh. And the actual furniture. I was thinking...think you and Max could be out here tomorrow?”
“Uh...yea. I still got 3 more weeks’ worth of vacation time saved up at work. Give me a sec to pull up flights and shit.”
I smile and nod, waiting as Chris sets his phone down. After listening to some shuffling and the protests of my son, my brother and my son’s faces are visible once more. I help guide my brother through the process of looking for, booking, and getting two cheap plane tickets. I tell him my card info so he can type it in.
“Alright, sis. It looks like we’ll be flying out ‘round noon our time. And, after a 5 and a half flight, we should be to the city by dinnertime. How’s that?” Chris double checks.
“Sounds fuckin’ good to me! I can’t wait. I’ll meet y’all there!” I grin and cover my mouth as I yawn.
Chris chuckles. “Good. Looks like you need to get to bed. It’s what, 11 there?”
I nod. “Yea...I think so. It’s been a long day.”
“I can tell. Well, get some sleep. We’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait to see y’all. It’s been a long two weeks.”
“I bet. I honestly don’t see how you’ve been a single mom for the last 6 months. I’ve been watching this little monster for 2 weeks and I swear, I’m never having my own kids.”
I laugh. “Shut up! He’s not that bad. He just misses his mommy. And, you never wanted your own kids. You’ve always been too scared. Couldn’t even sit down if there was a kid in the room.”
“Hey! I just didn’t want to risk accidentally sitting on them and squishing them!” 
I giggle as my brother grins. “I know, bro. I’m just giving you shit.”
“Yea. Just like your son’s been doing all day.”
I laugh, yawning again. “Shouldn’t have given him the sweet potato mush. I warned you.”
He rolls his eyes, chuckling. “Whatever.”
“I am proud of you, bro. You’ve done so well with him, and I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me. I know it’s been a long couple of months, not just the two weeks I’ve been out here.”
“I just wanna see you happy again, sis, and I’m always here for you. That’s why I’m more than willing to help you.”
“I know. And it means the world. Give him kisses for me and tap his little tummy twice to tell him I love him?”
Chris smiles. “I will. Be careful, yeah? We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll try. Love you.”
“Yea. Ok. I know.”
He grins and waves, getting Max to copy him as he hangs up the call. I smile to myself. My brother’s never been one to say “I love you” to someone. He’s been like that since we were little when he was 5 and I was 6. So, I don’t take it personally when he just responds as he does. I know he still loves me. 
He’s been there for me, just like I’ve always been there for him. After my last relationship hit the fan and I caught my fiancé cheating on me with a man and said she no longer felt like being a mom in a same-sex relationship, just a few weeks before Max was born and we were supposed to gain custody of him, Chris offered to let me move in with him once Max was born. 
So, that’s what we did. Max and I left Kentucky where I’d been living all through and well after college and moved to San Diego to live with my brother. The 5.5 months we were there, I looked ‘round for a job that I could use my history degree in, while also working on my last novel. After getting an offer from a museum in New York, I broke the news to Chris that Max and I would be moving to the city.
He’d been shocked at first since we were both from a small town in the mountains of Western North Carolina, and I’d sworn I’d never live in a big city. ‘Specially one in the North since it got too cold in the winter and I’d always been made fun of for my strong Southern accent. I’d explained to him that I had to do what was best for Max, that I had a son to think ‘bout now.
He’d understood after that and was willing to watch Max while I traveled back across the country to a new place, to look for a good living arrangement, and get settled in for my new job. He told me that once I got settled, he’d bring Max out and then help me get all moved in and everything. Which is what led us to tonight. 
After hanging up with my brother and my son, I plug my phone up, set a few alarms, and curl up in the chair to try and get some sleep, knowing that tomorrow’s gonna be an even bigger day. All while never knowing that I was being watched by landlord peeking through a strategically placed and well-hidden hole in the wall.
When I wake up the morning, well early afternoon really, groaning and blindly reaching out for my phone to shut up the annoying alarms, I stretch and rub my eyes. I’m definitely not a morning person, and usually, get my best work done between the hours of 1 and 7 am. It’s been great since Max still hasn’t picked up on the whole sleeping through the night thing.
I finally push myself up outta the chair, my joints protesting the clearly uncomfortable position I just spent the last six hours in while curled up. Making my way to the kitchen, I get a pot of coffee going before padding back across the apartment to the bedroom and bathroom. I shoot my brother a text, letting him know that I’ll still pick him and Max up from the airport. 
After my shower, and downing the entire pot of coffee, I put some music on as I start to plan how I want the apartment set up and start looking up furniture stores on my phone, even ordering a few things online to be delivered in a couple of days.. I get lost in my search, that it takes me several long minutes to notice someone’s knocking on my door. 
Clicking my phone off, I tuck it in my pocket and make way to the door, opening it to find my landlord.
 He and I talk for a few minutes until I suddenly realize the time.
“Oh shit! I gotta go!” 
Max, my landlord, raises a brow. “Hot date tonight?”
I smile. “You could say that. I gotta go pick the love of my life up from the airport.”
I watch as Max’s face falls and he gets a sad look in his eye. 
“I thought you were single?” He asks. 
Scrambling to put my boots on, I reply to him. “I am. But, I still gotta pick him up.”
“Oh. Well, alright then.”
I look at him as I grab my drawstring bag that I use instead of a purse and put it on my back. 
“I’ll be back soon. If you wanna come over, I’d love to introduce you. You’ll see him ‘round a lot.” I say, grabbing my key.
“Um. Maybe. I know I’ll be busy with the renovations in the other apartments. I just thought I’d stop by and check on you, see how you settling in.”
I smile and gently place my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to ignore the rush of excitement that courses through my body at the touch. My landlord is not only smoking hot, but he’s also well built and I can feel his muscles under my hand.
“Thank you, Max. I greatly appreciate it.” I say.
He just nods and stares at my hand for a moment. 
“Oh...sorry.” I apologize, dropping my hand, quickly remembering how shy he is. “I’ll...uh...see you later, maybe? I’d really love for you to meet him. He’s a sweetheart.”
He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “We’ll see how the renovations go.”
“Sounds good! Don’t work too hard!”
“I am working too hard!”
I giggle, playfully smacking his shoulder. 
“Don’t do it.” I giggle.
I quickly leave after locking my door and hurry downstairs, hailing a cab and head to the airport. Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be too much traffic, which surprises me since the first I noticed when I got to the city was all the traffic. When I get there, I realize I’m still a few minutes early, so I make my way over to the gates to wait. 
Nearly half an hour later, I spot my brother, holding my son, carrying only the diaper bag and a small book bag, and rush over. As soon as I reach them, I happily take my little boy in my arms, peppering his chubby little cheeks with kisses, which has him squealing happily and patting my head. I giggle and tilt my head back to look at him, despite the happy tears rolling down my cheeks.
Tapping my finger against his belly twice like I’ve done since the moment I first held him and the moment the docs told me he was deaf, I let my son know I love him. He giggles and curls his fingers ‘round mine, holding it tight. I lift my shoulder, turning my head in an attempt to wipe my tears away. Once I’ve done that, I look up at my 6’2” tall brother, grinning from ear to ear.
He just smiles and pulls me in for a hug. I lean against him since my arms are full from where I’m holding Max. Laying my head against Chris’ chest, I smile. He just hugs me a little tighter, but not too much ‘cause of Max.
“Missed you, sis.” He says.
“I fuckin’ missed you too, bro.” I reply. 
He laughs and lets go of me, looking at me. “You look happy.”
“I am now! I’ve got my little boy in my arms, and you’re here. But, I’m sure you’re hungry?”
“Always am!”
I laugh. “C’mon. Let’s go get some food and head to my place. You’re really gonna love it!”
He chuckles and follows as I carry a giggling and snuggly Max outta the airport. I look up Chris. 
“You’re taller. Hail a cab.” I say.
He raises a brow. “How?”
I giggle and tell him since it’s the time he’s ever had to do it. Growing up in our small town, we didn’t have taxis, and then when he moved to San Diego during my senior year of college, he already had his own car, so he didn’t have to worry ‘bout taxis out there. It doesn’t take long before one comes to a stop in front of us.
Piling in, I give the driver my new address, and we set off towards home. Well, my home. Chris and I spend the time talking while I just hold Max close, patting his butt. Right as the driver makes it to the apartment building, the air suddenly smells shitty. I know Max has pooped himself, and I soothe him before he can start crying and apologizing to the driver, giving him a decent tip.
Ushering Chris out the cab, so I can get out with Max, I shift my son in my arms. 
“Don’t worry, baby boy. Mama’s gonna get you upstairs, and get you all cleaned up!” I coo, softly, my lips near his ear so that he can feel the vibrations of my voice as I talk.
Max settles down a little as he sniffles, clinging to my shirt. I kiss his head and led the way inside and up to my apartment. Shifting him once more, I dig my key out, unlock the door, and step in with Chris right behind me. 
“Let me get him changed. Feel free to look around. There’s not much, but we’ll fix that tomorrow.” I say.
Chris nods and drapes the strap of the diaper bag over my shoulder. I carry Max into the bathroom and set him on the tiled floor. I keep him distracted while I change his diaper, and tap his tummy twice after buttoning his onesie and slipping his little shorts back on. He lets out a giggle, holding his hands up.
Giggling myself, I scoop him back up in my arms, tossing the dirty diaper in the small trash can as I walk out. 
***
Over the next couple of weeks, Chris helps me move furniture in, get the apartment set up, takes turns with caring for Max, and even teaching me some of the new recipes he’s picked up. He’s come along way, considering that the kid used to burn cereal when he tried to make himself some when we were kids.
We take a few days, once the apartment’s set up, to explore the city. I haven’t done much sight-seeing myself since I arrived. It was mainly ‘cause I was too busy trying to find a place and everything. A few times, I spot my landlord while we’re out and about, and I try to wave him over so he can meet my son and my brother.
Especially since he never showed up the night Chris arrived. I’d been really excited to introduce them. I couldn’t explain why, other than the fact that I wanted Max to meet my son and my brother. Yet, Max never comes over. He always pulls his phone out when our eyes meet and presumably takes a call, walking in the opposite direction.
Two and a half weeks after Chris arrives in New York, Max and I take him to the airport to catch his flight back to San Diego. We stay with him till it’s time for his plane to be boarded. As he hands his ticket over, he assures him he’ll text me when he lands in California and when he gets home. I give him one last hug and lift Max’s hand in a wave.
***
After Chris leaves, Max and I settled into our normal routine. I wake up shortly after he does, get him changed and dressed for the day, and then lay him down on the living room floor for tummy time while I get to work. The position I have at the museum allows me to work from home, occasionally going in once or twice a week, with Max, to take care of some things there.
When I’m not working for the museum, I’m attempting to work on my novel. After I get done with work, I feed Max and me, before we settle on the couch with a Disney movie or one of the three Despicable Me movies playing for naptime. Even if Max can’t hear, he still loves watching the screen, giggling. 
He absolutely loves the minions and squeals every time he sees them on the screen. After naptime, he and I lay on the floor for more tummy time while I try to teach him the sign language I’ve been learning. My baby brother, Eli, was also born with hearing issues, so thankfully I knew some when he was growing up, but I’ve also been teaching myself more since I found out Max was deaf.
At the end of the day, and getting some more work done, along with dinner, I give Max his bath. He’s always loved bath time, except for the few times water lands in his ears. Since it’s his favorite, I give him one every day, which doesn’t put too much strain on the water bill ‘cause Max’s baby bath is small and doesn’t take a lot of water.
When bedtime rolls ‘round, I curl up on my new bed with Max cuddled to my chest with my shirt tightly gripped in one hand and his shark blankie in the other. I rub his back and hum softly so he can feel the vibrations from it as he drifts off to sleep. We keep the routine up for the next month a half. During this time, I never talk to my landlord, not even when I go to give him the rent.
I mean, yeah, I’ll see him occasionally ‘round the building, but he doesn’t say a word. He just looks at me for a moment, before dropping his head and walking away. It breaks my heart ‘cause I want to talk to him. We had so much fun talking and goofing off the night he helped me move in. But, since that day I had to rush off to the airport, we haven’t spoken.
I just resigned myself to knowing that he obviously thinks we’re nothing more than landlord and tenant. Which, honestly, make me sad ‘cause I thought we’d have become friends. He was the first person that was actually nice to me after I moved to the city. I also tuck down the feelings of the crush on him I have.
He reminds me a lot of Papa Winchester from my favorite tv show, Supernatural, and I’ve always had the hots for the oldest Winchester. Even my ex-fiancé knew that, and she agreed. See, we’re both bisexual, but I’d always thought she was the one. Until I caught her in bed, our bed, with a man, and she’d told me what she did.
The six months after we broke up were the hardest, ‘cause I’d been ready to marry her. But it didn’t work out. And after I’d moved to New York, met my landlord Max, and realized I’d had a crush on him, I was starting to come to terms with maybe moving on. Getting back out there. I mean, I knew there’d probably be nothing more than a friendship with my landlord, but I was ok with that.
But, I don’t even have that anymore. I sigh to myself, urging my thoughts to go down a different road, as I pull the clothes out the dryer. Just as I finish pulling the last few clothes outta the dryer, I hear whimpering. I listen for a moment to try and figure out where the sound’s coming from so I can go get my son.
After a moment, and the realization that the sound of whimpers is coming from the falls, I try to tone down the feeling of panic that’s quickly spreading through my body. Max started crawling shortly after we moved here, and I know he’s been exploring the apartment. I just hope he hasn’t gotten himself stuck somewhere. 
I quickly leave the clothes on the dryer and walk further into the apartment, closer to the sound of the whimpers.
“Max? Honey? Don’t worry, ok? Mama’s coming to get you.”
I call out, without thinking ‘bout the fact that my son’s deaf. I call the words out based on instinct and the need to assure my son that he’s gonna be ok. I follow the noise, getting closer to the kitchen and my eyes widen. Did I forget to put the baby gate up so he couldn’t get in there? When I reach the kitchen and realize that I did indeed forget to put the baby gate, my heart drops to my stomach.
“Fuck!”
I step into the pantry where the sounds of the whimpers are louder and look ‘round. I don’t see my son anywhere. Then I hear the whimpers again and realize that they’re coming from the other side of the wall. I gently push against the right wall, to give myself leverage, as I keep looking, thinking there’s no way that the whimpers are coming from the walls.
My eyes widen as the wall shifts a little with my touch, and they nearly pop outta their sockets when I realize the wall isn’t just a wall. It’s a door that’s already slightly open. My heart starts beating faster as I realize that there’s a slight chance that Max could’ve crawled in here, and through the small opening.
I take in a shaky breath as I push the door open enough for my small frame to fit through. Once I’m through, I notice two things from the get-go. One, the whimpers get louder. Two, the door leads to what looks like an old set of maintenance hallways. I know older buildings used to have them, so it makes sense that this building would have ‘em too.
I just never really put the thought into asking or caring if the building had them. I make my way deeper into the hidden hallways, being careful not to trip or hit my head on anything. Keeping my eyes peeled for my son, I get closer to the sound of the whimpers until I finally reach the source. My eyes widen when I see who’s making the sounds.
“Max?” I ask, softly, getting closer.
My landlord doesn’t even look up as he flinches at the sound of my voice. He just whimpers and bites harder into his wrist. 
My heart breaks and I crouch down next to him, gently taking his hand and pulling his wrist from the tight grip his teeth have on it.
“Max? Honey, it’s ok. You’re safe.” I murmur.
He whimpers a little more and hides his face. I immediately realize what’s going on. He’s having a panic attack, and it looks to be a bad one. Rubbing my thumb across his knuckles, I lean closer to him, gently wrapping my arms ‘round the slightly older man, and pull him close to me. I reach a hand up and run my fingers through his hair, softly and silently convincing him to lay his head on my chest.
I soothe him, calm him, and help him relax ‘nough that he slowly eases outta the panic attack. Not stopping my fingers as they continue to run through his hair, I start humming softly. I know panic attacks are one of the worst things to go through. Especially all alone. It takes several minutes, but I eventually feel Max relax, sagging against me as the panic attack leaves him.
Even though he’s outta it, I continue to run my fingers through his dark curls. 
“Better?” I ask softly.
He nods, just a quick, subtle little jerk of his head against my chest, but it’s still a nod. 
“Will you come back to my apartment with me? I wanna take a look at your arm. You bit down on it pretty hard.” I explain after he looks at me with uncertainty swirling in his muddy water brown eyes.
He takes a deep breath but nods again. I smile.
“That’s a good boy. C’mon. We’ll get you all fixed up.” I say, not sounding patronizing, but rather motherly.
I smile to myself as a light blush covers his cheeks at my words. I gently pat his shoulder before we stand up. As I lead him back through the maintenance hallways to the door that leads into my pantry, I notice other little holes in the wall, discreetly checking them out. When I realize they show off different points of my apartment, I raise a brow but don’t say a word.
After peeking through one of the holes, I see Max, my son, sleeping peacefully in his little playpen and let out a soft breath of relief, remembering that I’d laid him in there when I went to do laundry. I hold my landlord’s hand the entire time we walk through the hallways if nothing more than to keep him calm.
When Max and I get to the door leading to the pantry, he suddenly stops, jerking me to a stop too since I wasn’t expecting it and had been leading him by the hand. I turn ‘round and look at him.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, confused.
“The love of your life? Where’s he at?” He asks after, nervously, after a moment.
I smile. “He’s sleeping, in the other room. It’s ok.”
I watch as more hesitation and uncertainty fill Max’s eyes. I give his hand a gentle squeeze. 
“Hey. It’s ok. He won’t mind you being in there. He gets a bit protective over me, but I just know he’s gonna love you.” I assure him.
“I...I don’t think so...guys typically don’t like me. Neither do girls. I’m a loner.” He mumbles, looking at his feet while flicking his thumb against his finger on his other hand.
“Max?”
He lifts his head, looking at me. “Hmm?”
“Trust me. He’s gonna love you.”
He shrugs. “Nah. He won’t. ‘Specially not since he has you.”
“Hey. Stop doubting yourself, ok? He’s gonna love you ‘cause I like you.”
“You...you like me?”
I smile and nod. “I do. And you’d know that if you hadn’t been avoiding me since I had to leave so quickly to get to the airport.”
A small smile tugs on his lips. “You’ve been busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you, Max. Now, c’mon. Let’s get your wrist all cleaned up, then you meet the person who stole my heart with just one look. And, he’s gonna steal yours too.”
I giggle and gently squeeze his hand as he looks nervous. I lead him into my apartment from the pantry, and into the living room. 
“Have a seat on the couch, ok? I’m just gonna go grab the first aid kit. Don’t try and leave. I’ll follow you and kick your door down if you do.” I playfully threaten. “I don’t mess around with first aid.”
Thankfully, it gets a chuckle outta him and he takes a seat on the couch, holding his hands up in surrender. I grin and head to my bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Walking back through my bathroom, I stop by the playpen, lean down and kiss my son’s head, covering him up more with his shark blankie.
Watching him for a moment, I smile to myself and head back to the living room. Max is still in the same spot he was when I left him a moment ago, but this time, he has his hands on his lap as he picks at the bite mark on his wrist. I gently slap his hand away. 
“Stop that, mister. You’ll do more damage than what you’ve already done.” I say, kneeling on the floor in front of him, between his knees. 
He raises a brow and mutters a quiet, “I’m sorry.”
“Good boy. Now hold your hand out so I can look at it.”
He blushes a little but does as I ask. Gently taking his arm in my grasp, I inspect the self-inflicted bite mark on his wrist. After cleaning it with some alcohol wipes and putting Neosporin on it, I gently wrap some gauze ‘round his wrist and tape it so it stays in place. Without thinking ‘bout it, I place a gentle kiss on over the wrapped wound.
It’s outta habit that I do it since I do it whenever my son gets a boo-boo. I hear Max suck in a deep breath and my eyes jerk up to meet his. His bottom lip is captured between his impossibly white teeth and his cheeks are a shade pinker than they were before.
“I...I’m sorry. It’s outta habit that I do that.” I mutter, trying to explain as quickly as I can.
“I...it’s fine. I’ve just never had anyone do that before.” He mumbles.
I raise a brow. “Your mama never kissed your boo-boos?”
His eyes get that sad, lost look in his eyes. He pulls his arm outta my grasp and, not answering, he walks over to the window. I sit back on my ankles, packing the first aid kid up. 
“Max...I’m sorry. I didn’t...you don’t have to talk ‘bout it.” I say quietly.
He just sighs and stares out the window, not saying a word. 
“My…” He starts, still staring out the window. “My parents died when I was 10. My grandfather, August, he’s the one who raised me.”
I stand and gently pad over to him. “I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t know. I didn’t think before I asked that.”
He glances at me then looks back out the window. Without thinking, and just doing it, I wrap my arms ‘round his waist and lay my head against his chest. He tenses up immediately at my touch.
“What...what are you doing?” He asks.
I tilt my head back to look up at him. “It’s called a hug. It’s supposed to be comforting. I can stop if it makes you too uncomfortable.”
I watch as his facial expression changes with several different emotions before a smile finally settles on his lips.
“Nah. It’s not too uncomfortable. I’m just not used to this.” He says after a few moments. 
“This?” I ask.
He nods. “Hugs. I can’t even remember the last time I had one.”
I tighten my arms ‘round him and lay my head back on his chest. I feel his arms slowly make their way ‘round me, loosely holding me close, and I smile. 
“Whenever you want one, just come to me and I’ll happily give you one.” I say. “I’m not really much of a hugger, but with you, it just feels right, so you can have a hug whenever.”
“Really?” He asks.
I nod against his chest. “Mmhhmm.”
“Thanks...but...what ‘bout...the love of your life? Is he ok with you giving random men hugs?”
I giggle and look up at him. “You’re not a random man, but yes. He’d be ok with me giving you hugs. He loves them, so he’ll probably try and give you one too.”
“Um…” He hesitates, slowly dropping his arms. “I dunno how I feel ‘bout your man giving me hugs.”
I giggle. “You’ll change your mind when you meet him.”
“I dunno.”
“I do! Stay here. I’ll bring him out to you.”
“Ummm…”
I giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Just wait here.”
He swallows deeply, making his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Ok.”
“Good boy.”
I giggle and leave him in the living as I walk into the other room where I know my son is. Reaching into the playpen, I scoop him up, making him giggle. I heard him cooing to himself a few moments ago, so that’s how I knew he was awake. I kiss his cheeks and gently tap his tummy twice. He makes a happy noise and snuggles to me.
I smile and hold him close as I walk back out to the living room. Max is looking out the window again, this time, though, he’s got his arms wrapped ‘round his torso, almost like he’s giving himself a hug. I giggle softly and make my way over to him.
“Max?”
He lifts his head and turns his gaze from the river to me. His eyes widen as he sees my son in my arms. Shock, confusion, and another emotion flash across his face. 
“Who? Who’s that?” He asks.
“Max, this is the love of my life. My son.” I say, grinning from ear to ear.
“Your son? Love of your life?”
I giggle and nod. “Mmhhmm. I adopted him when he was born. I can’t have kids myself, and my ex-fiancé and I had talked ‘bout adopting. So, we decided to do it. Found out that this little guy’s mama was putting him up for adoption before he was even born. Then, just before he was born, my ex-fiancé and I split. I still adopted this little monkey and it’s just been he and I against the world since.”
“But...that man...who was here...was that your former fiancé?”
I giggle and shake my head. “No! That was my oldest younger brother, Chris. He’d been watching Max for me while I got settled in the city. After I moved in here, I called him, and he brought my son out here and helped me get furniture and whatnot. I really wanted you to meet him while he was here...but you kept getting phone calls…”
“Your brother?” 
I smile and nod. “He’s the oldest of my two brothers, and I’m the oldest of all the kids.”
“Oh…”
I giggle. “Yea.”
“Those phone calls...they weren’t actually phone calls.”
I raise a brow. “You mean to tell me you faked ‘em just so you wouldn’t have to come over?”
He looks down, nodding. “You just seemed so happy with him. I thought y’all were together and that the kid was y’all’s. It…” He shakes his head, cutting off the rest of his sentence.
“Max, I wasn’t lying when I told you I was single the first night I spent here. But I also didn’t tell you that there is a guy I like.”
“Oh...well...I don’t wanna meet him…”
I giggle. “Too late. You already have.”
He frowns. “I have?”
Nodding, I grin and take his hand. “C’mon. I’ll show you who he is.”
“I don’t wanna…”
“Tooooo bad, mister.” 
I giggle and lead him to the bathroom, standing him in front of the mirror as I stand next to him, holding my son.
“I thought you were showing me someone I don’t wanna see.” He says, his voice quiet.
“I am. Tell me who you see.” I say, grinning.
“Me. I see me, you, and your son.” 
“Exactly. So, you see the guy I have a crush on.”
“Isn’t that a little weird to have a crush on your son?”
I giggle. “Yea. So, it’s a good thing he’s not who I have crush on.”
His brows furrow in confusion and I giggle and gently turn him to face me.
“You’re adorable.” I say.
“How?” He asks, confused even more. 
“You’re just not getting it, are you?”
He shakes his head. “No?”
“Max, you’re the guy I like.”
“Me?”
Nodding, I smile. “You.”
I watch as he gets the cutest, dimpled smile on his face, making me giggle more. He blushes and ducks his head down for a moment before looking at me.
“You really like me?” He asks, softly.
“Mmhhmm. I do. I just thought you didn’t like me since you kept ignoring me.” I say.
“I was just trying to distance myself...I thought you were with that guy, who’s actually your brother...I thought he was your ex-fiancé that you’d mentioned that first night...that you’d taken him back.”
I giggle. “Oh, Max. My ex-fiancé was a woman. Who cheated on me with a man. In our own bed.”
His eyes widen. “You were with a girl? But...you like me?”
“I’m what you’d call bisexual. I play for both teams. I like guys and girls.”
“Oh!” He lets out a soft chuckle. “So...what’s this mean? For us?”
I giggle. “It means, that I’d like to date you. If you want that.”
He grins, making his dimples show more. “I’d...I’d like that.”
“Me too! We just have to get someone’s permission first.”
“Permission? From?”
I smile and turn my son ‘round to face him. “Max here has to approve first. I have to think of him now, especially when it comes to relationships.”
Max nods and looks at my son, then back at me. “Wait. His name’s Max?”
I smile. “Maxwell Dean Sullivan. Sometimes, though, I’ll call him Deaf.” (Deef.)
“Why?”
“Oh. He’s deaf.”
“Oh!”
I smile and nod then look down at my son as he wiggles in my arms, reaching out for Max. I giggle and gently hold him out, waiting for him to take him. Max gently, and somewhat nervously, takes my little boy, and cradles him.
“Awww! You’re like a pro!” I grin.
“I’m not gonna lie. I’m scared shitless. He’s so small.” He whispers.
I giggle. “You’re also really big. Max and I are both small compared to you. And you help me close and gently.”
This gets a soft chuckle from my landlord and he visibly relaxes, shifting Max so he’s a little more comfortable. My son giggles and reaches up, patting Max’s cheeks, squealing at the feeling of the short beard tickling his tiny palms. I smile and lean against the mirror, watching them. 
“I think Deaf likes you.” I say.
“Yea? You really think so?” Max looks up and he visibly tenses as he soon as he sees me leaning against the mirror. “Don’t lean against that. Please.”
I raise a brow, but step away from the mirror. “Why not?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t, Max. It seems like a sturdy mirror. Plus, the wall behind it keeps it up.”
He lowers his gaze and hands my son back to me, much to my son’s protests and my own confusion. 
“I...I should go...just please don’t lean against the mirror.” Max says quietly and turns to leave.
I reach a hand out and curl my fingers ‘round his upper arm. 
“Hey. Stop. You don’t have to go.” I say.
He nods. “I do. There’s stuff you don’t know ‘bout me...I’m not a good man…”
I raise a brow. “Max. Aside from ignoring me for the last several weeks, we’ve still been good to me. You are a good man. I know you are.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but can’t help.”
A thought hits me and I look up at him. “You mean the holes in the walls? That allows someone to peep through into my apartment?”
His face pales and I get my answer. I reach up and cup his cheek. 
“Max. It’s ok. I saw him when I was leading you back to my place to fix your wrist. The walls...they’re your safe place, aren’t they?” I ask, softly.
“It’s quiet in there. I like the silence.” He mumbles, closing his eyes. “I can watch...and it calms me.”
“Have you watched me?”
He swallows deeply. “I tried not to...but I…”
“Shhh. It’s ok, Max. I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I’m not. Some might think it’s creepy, but in a way, it’s like you’re watching over, protecting me. Me and Deaf.”
“I...I didn’t think of that.”
I smile and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. “It helps you stay calm, watching me?”
He nods. “I can’t hear the voices…”
“What voices?”
“The ones telling me…” He shudders.
“Breathe, Max. It’s ok. What do they tell you?”
“That I’m a coward. A pervert. A creep.” 
His reply is so quiet I almost don’t hear it. But I do. I place my palm back against his cheek.
“Is that why you bit your wrist earlier?” I ask softly.
He nods. “To make them shut up.”
“Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore, ok? I’ll tell those voices to shut up too.”
He opens his eyes and looks at me, unsure. 
“I will.” I assure him.
“But...why?” His child-like voice breaks my heart.
“Because, they’re lying to you, Max. The things they tell you, they’re not true. You’re not a creep. Not a pervert. And you are definitely not a coward.”
“But...I am.”
“No, Max. You’re not. You’re not any of those. You’re just a man who needs someone to show him what it’s like to be loved. You didn’t have a good childhood. Losing your parents, and having your grandfather raise you. But you survived. You grew up. You coped with everything thrown your way in the ways that you knew how. You’re a survivor, Max. And, that alone makes you the furthest thing from being a creep and a coward. As for being a pervert, I don’t think you’re that either.”
He doesn’t say a word, but he leans into my touch more.
“How do you know?” He asks after a few minutes.
“I know, because I can tell you’re not. Believe me, I grew up ‘round ‘nough perverts to know that’s not you. You’re nothing like them. That’s how I know.” I whisper.
“You still like me?” He lifts his eyes to meet mine.
“I do, Max. And, I’m gonna show you what it’s like to be loved. We’ll get there. And Deaf here, this little boy in my arms, he’ll show you too. I told you he’d love you when he met you.”
“He does?”
I smile and nod. “He doesn’t reach out to just anyone. It took him months just to go to my brother. But it took him maybe 5 minutes to go to you. And, kids are usually really good judges of character. Just like dogs. So, I can assure you he doesn’t think you’re anything like what the voices tell you.”
He nods slowly and looks down at the little boy in my arms. 
“He is cute.” He mumbles.
I giggle. “Damn right he is! He’s my son.”
Max chuckles softly. “That’s true. But...you’re not cute.”
I raise a brow and look at him. “That’s not exactly the best thing to say to your new girlfriend.”
He grins. “Girlfriend? I like the sound of that...but you’re not cute. You’re beautiful.”
I blush. “So are you. Ain’t you can’t argue with me. The girlfriend’s always right.”
He laughs softly. “Is that so?”
“Mmhhmm! Now. I believe there’s a little boy who wants to be held by you.”
He smiles and kisses my palm before standing up straight and gently taking Max from my arms, holding him close. 
“As for the mirror, Max. We’ll just board up the other side.” I say, getting the picture, from his reaction, that it’s one of those mirrors like police station interrogation rooms have. “And, you won’t have to go back into the tunnels anymore. You have me and Max now. We’ll be here for you.”
He swallows deeply and nods. “Promise?”
“I promise promise, Max. But, know that if you ever cheat on me, I’ll cut your dick and balls off.”
His eyes widen as he nods. “I...I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
I smile. “Good. And I wouldn’t do it to you either.”
He lets out a breath of relief. “So...does this mean...that I have a family?”
I smile. “Yes, Max. It does. We’re your family now, and you’re our family.”
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msjr0119 · 5 years
Text
One Temptation
Introduction
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*This new series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*
Riley Brooks moves back to New York after leaving five years prior- struggling to get by in life she wanted to go home. After getting mugged, a woman and man come to her rescue and offer her a job at their strip club. A rich business man Liam Rhys is forced to visit the club as part of his bachelor party. What will happen that night?
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******
Riley Brooks returned to New York City, five years ago she left the city that she was brought up in. It was one of the hardest cities to live in - but if you could survive, you would be able to live anywhere. Moving to Florida to live with her Gran, she enjoyed her time there- but she was terribly homesick. Landing back in the Big Apple, subconsciously she kept checking over her shoulder, afraid of seeing the ghosts of her past.
*******
Unflinching, the mysterious dark figure blocked my way. I needed to not show the fear that was building up throughout my body. Carrying on walking, I wanted to scream for help, but barely a whimper could escape my lips. He spoke almost too confident, in denial as if he wasn’t doing any wrong. I could tell this wasn't his first time doing this type of thing, but it was my first time being this type of victim. "Purse now!” He demanded, as he pushed me against the cold stoned wall. Punching me like a punch bag, my body was slowly giving in- the grip of my bag slowly loosened. Hearing more footsteps behind me, I knew I was surrounded. My hands shook as I handed over my purse- why did I give in? There was only a few dollars in it, nothing sentimental. The credit card could be frozen. As if like ghosts they disappeared in an instant. I stood still frozen, shaking still in shock, not wanting to leave the alley in case there was an ambush awaiting me. In that moment the quietness that had surrounded me was now the opposite, exiting the alley- the familiar noises of New York begin ringing through my ears again. It was as if time had frozen, and someone had clicked their fingers bringing me back to reality.
Riley’s perfect ponytail was now messed up, loose hair falling over her features. Not knowing where she was staying due to her impromptu return, she needed to find her way to somewhere familiar. Stumbling as she walked the streets, she began to feel dizzy- flinching as she felt a calloused hand touch her.
“Are you okay Miss?” The concerned couple gazed at her, as the blood began to dry around her button nose. Her cheeks were swollen, anyone would think she had overdosed on Botox.
“Yes, sorry. I’ve just been mugged that’s all.” The two people looked at each, Riley felt defeated and agreed to allow them to help her eventually. Either way, a little bit of warmth from two strangers was better than sleeping rough. Believing now, it was a mistake returning back ‘home’ in the first place.
*****
Arriving at the location, the two strangers cleaned Riley up. Gently dabbing her nose and cheeks with some ice and gauze. She was still in shock, that she didn’t comprehend that the ‘bar’ was in fact a strip club.
“Honey. If you want, you can stay here with us- work for us. We will keep you safe.” They were intrigued to find out a background story on the vulnerable girl in front of them. They assumed she had no living family, struggling to make ends meat. They may seem like murderers, but they took young women under their wings all the time.
“I... I... Erm... I don’t dance. I was a waitress though.”
“The girls could teach you dancing. It won’t take long- a matter of hours. And if you have a strong determined mind, you’ll smash it.” Riley didn’t want to degrade herself, Sure the money she would earn would help her until she found something else. What else had she to lose?
****
Liam Rhys was an successful business man, he had taken over the business when his father passed away. By rights, his older brother Leo should have taken over the business- but he wasn’t responsible enough. Liam had his head screwed on, and prioritised his families business over his happiness. He had been in a relationship with Leo’s ex girlfriend, Madeleine for five years and tonight was his bachelor party.
Leo dragged them to the ‘Wild cats’ strip club; Liam, Maxwell and Drake weren’t that impressed. Liam knew Madeleine would throttle him, Maxwell was quite content just socialising in a normal club where he could bust out his infamous dance moves, Drake would have just preferred to drink whiskey in a dive bar, he was the newest member of the group moving to New York from Texas recently.
“Excuse me gentlemen, I’ll be right back.”
The men looked at him furiously, Leo dragged them here and then ditched them. Observing him walking over to the bar, they laughed at the woman who had just busted his nose. Overhearing the laughter coming from Leo’s direction, they saw the woman delicately seeing to his injuries that she had caused.
“Is that?” Maxwell thought his imagination was playing tricks on him, shaking his head. He wondered how strong the alcohol was that they were consuming.
“That’s Riley.” Liam confirmed Maxwell’s question. He felt as if his heart had stopped. She was still as beautiful as he remembered.
“Who’s Riley?” Drake asked his two friends who were hypnotised- waving his arms in front of them they both ignored his frantic hand gestures- staring with their jaws agape. As he couldn’t get their attention he decided to sit back sipping the brown liquid.
Leo walked back over to the group, holding the ice to his nose. Feeling like he was lacking in masculinity- he was wondering where she learnt to throw a punch like that.
“I asked her for a dance but she refused. Just said she was the waitress. But I could imagine her straddling me. I swear she’s got hotter these last five years. That ass, those tits.” Liam rolled his eyes back, frustrated with Leo for dragging them there. Did he know she was back? Did he know she worked here? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop admiring her even though she was providing him with looks that could kill.
*****
“Riley honey. Could you go and serve the bachelor party over there please. Keep them entertained. We will get big bucks...”
“I... I can’t. I know them. Well I know three of them. Can’t Mercedes do it instead? Please?”
“Riley please baby. If you know them it’ll be so much easier. They will give us a good reputation, just flirt with them then get on the pole. You’ll make a good cut on your second night, it’ll boost your confidence.” Sighing, she knew she had to do it keep a roof over her head.
Walking over to them she took a bottle of scotch, not knowing who the mystery brown haired man - but she was intrigued to find out. Gulping, she placed the bottle on the table. Just imagine it’s someone else- she kept reminding herself.
“Blossom!” Maxwell jumped up like an excited puppy.
“Hey Maxi, long time no see. Sit down!”
Riley pushed him back to his seat, before straddling him. “Just play along please, my manager is watching....Oh my god Max! Seriously?”
“Well you are sat on my cock! I can’t help it Ri. What are you doing back anyway? You just went poof.”
“My gran passed away last month and I was homesick.”
“I’m sorry Riley.” Ignoring Liam’s sympathy, she brushed past him and moved on to Leo’s chair with him.
“Well hello baby. Who feels better, me or Max?” Smirking at her, he knew he was pushing his luck. Holding her tightly, he had probably missed her the most. They were close friends, since he had split up with Madeleine they began to have this flirty banter.
“Well Max is like my brother, so I’d say you. Sorry not sorry Max.”
“Ah don’t worry about me. The feelings mutual. This is Drake by the way. He’s the newest member of the wolf pack. Don’t worry he doesn’t bite.” Maxwell impersonated a wolf, Drake couldn’t believe the group of people he hung out with; one was a melancholy depressed millionaire, one was a child still and the other was just a kinky so and so.
“Hi Drake. I’m Riley.” Drakes eyes widened as she sat on his lap. Unable to prevent his unexpected erection, he felt embarrassed. “I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be sorry. You’re blushing babe.” Riley kissed him on the cheek, if it was possible to blush anymore he would be looking sunburnt.
Getting on the pole, she laughed secretly at Liam’s disheartened expression that she didn’t get closer to him. After hearing different men whistle at her, he couldn’t cope seeing men gawk at her- enough of this. Abruptly standing up he dragged her off the pole much to the disappointment of the other punters- her managers saw the commotion and headed straight over with security. The main rule was that no client could touch the staff. Riley waved them away explaining it was okay- a misunderstanding.
“Do not ever touch me again Liam! Do you understand?”
“How could you degrade yourself like this? You’re acting like some whore!” Raising her hand, the slap was that loud that it echoed throughout the room- the lingering sting on his face, made him rethink about what his mouth had just spat at her. Clutching his face, his eyes began watering. I deserved that.
“I’m a whore am I? Seriously! Look in the mirror arsehole!”
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andrea-lyn · 5 years
Note
I was listening to 'Do I Wanna Know?' (Chvrches cover of Artic Monkeys) & these lines screamed Malex: Ever thought of calling when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through Crawling back to you Maybe one half of Malex is drunk, really wants to call the other but doesn't & the next day goes to have a sober talk with him about them?
When Michael wakes up, it’s to nearly fifty texts in his drafts. They’re all unsent, but they paint a very vivid picture. Sitting up slowly, he groans as he glances behind him to make sure he didn’t bring anyone home last night after a blackout night at the Pony, but luckily he’d been both smart enough to come home alone, but also not to send any of the texts.
Staring at them, he reaches for a bottle of acetone, because hair of the dog is a necessity if he’s going to cope with this.
They’re mostly to Alex. Early in the night, there’s a few drafts for Isobel (what was w/ ur weird muppet vest the other nite? did you skin fozzy bear?) and then a few to Liz (i need u to know that if u call me mikey in front of witnesses, i will crush u w/ my brain).
From there, it looks like he’d had a little too much to drink and had gone one-track mind.
Alex-minded, more like. 
u know what i miss, i miss the way you kissed my neck
fuck, how come we only ever woke up together once?
i miss you
ilu
They go on like that, and on, and just when Michael thinks that his parade of pathetic pining is over, he scrolls down and finds some more. Grabbing a bunch of his curls in his hand, his only relief is that the messages are all sitting in his drafts, so even drunk, he had some sense. He groans and collapses back on the bed. 
He knows he’s not doing so well, not since Max, but this is a new low. When he hadn’t been able to explain to Maria how his hand had healed, that relationship had grown complicated too, and he’d cowardly bolted from going down that road because the last thing he needs is yet another complicated thing that makes him feel like shit.
His drunk self doesn’t agree, it looks like. 
There’s a few texts to Maria in there, but they’re mostly apologies, the kind of drunken sad ones that radiate regret. He definitely didn’t text i want to lick every inch of your body to her the way that he had to Alex. 
For a few hours, he hydrates and drinks acetone until he feels like he can move a few steps without puking. 
Once his head is clear, Michael has the feeling that he needs to talk to Alex. He brings up a brand new message and texts Alex to ask if he can come by the cabin to speak to him. He sends this one, and this is the one that gets an instant reply.
only if you bring coffee
Right. Coffee run it is.
He drops by the Crashdown to get Alex’s usual and then adds two extra espresso shots to his own order before he makes the drive out to the cabin, caffeinating until he’s jittery. He owes Alex a lot – apologies, explanations, actual lines of honest communication – but right now, he just needs to sort out his head so he doesn’t have nights like last night. 
“Hey!” Michael calls out, letting himself in the cabin. Alex has already said that he can come and go as he pleases, which would be exciting if it weren’t for the fact that he’d also made keys for Liz and Kyle and said the same thing. He’s no better than a friend, right now, which is the bed he’s made and has to lie in.
He can hear rustling from the bedroom and Michael heads to the door to see Alex finishing with his prosthetic, fiddling with some of the adjustments. 
“Coffee,” Michael says, setting it on the nightstand beside Alex since his hands are busy. He’s nervous and a bit frantic, and he puts his phone down on the nightstand beside the coffee because he’s worried that he’s going to press the wrong button and send all those drafts, seeing as they’re open so Michael can let his eyes skim over them to remind himself why he’s here. He navigates back to the home screen, lingering at the edge of the bed, trying not to think about Alex getting undressed instead of this.
He wants to talk about the messages in his phone, wants to show Alex and talk about how much he still wants to be with him, but not yet. Michael decides that he needs a minute to collect himself. He can talk to Alex about it, he can, he just needs a minute. 
“Hey, can I use the bathroom?”
Alex nods, distracted with the latches, cursing under his breath. Michael takes advantage to bolt for the bathroom, where he spends a good five minutes staring at his reflection in the mirror, telling himself that he can do this. He’s here to talk, that’s all. They’re not ending things, no one is walking away, and they can be mature adults about this.
When another few minutes pass, Michael figures that either he’s got to get out there or Alex is going to think he only came over to the cabin to abuse bathroom privileges. 
When he leaves the bathroom, it’s to the sight of Alex with Michael’s phone.
“Fuck!” he can’t help his automatic reaction on the heels of a panicked noise, and the severity and suddenness of it makes Alex nearly fumbles the phone. 
“Sorry,” Alex says. “Sorry, it was ringing and I saw it was Isobel, so I was trying to silence it, only I think it shifted to your messages and I…” Guilt flashes over his face. “I saw the messages. The drafts.”
That wouldn’t just be there. That means that Alex had to go looking for them. “Why would you…?”
“Because last night, I got this one random text from you, and it looked like it was part of something else and I…” Alex gives him an apologetic look. “What you wrote me was pretty safe. It just said something about my mouth, how you missed it when I was reading something and i started mouthing the words out loud. I didn’t really think much about it, because it was kind of really badly typed and I know that you’ve been drinking, lately.”
Understatement.
“Guerin,” Alex exhales. “You’re not the only one with unsent, unspoken words. I just never know how to bring them up.” He gives him an unsure look as he steadies his weight on the prosthetic, standing carefully (with Michael’s help as he reaches out to hold onto him). “Is that why you’re here? To talk about them?”
He nods. “I think it says something about the fact that I wrote more than ten times the texts to you than I did to anyone else. I’m glad my finger only slipped the once, that some part of my brain knew it wasn’t right to send them to you, but I’m here because it also says that there’s something still there.”
Michael’s in pain and fighting grief and it’s not that he wants to use Alex as a bandage, but maybe part of his grief is because of the wound that he and Alex never let heal.
Alex reaches for the coffee and Michael’s phone, handing the latter out to him.
“Look,” Alex says quietly, “when you’re ready, send me the texts. Okay? I don’t want there to be things unsaid between us. Not anymore. I also don’t want you to think that you have to keep drinking instead of talking to me. So…” He reaches over to squeeze Michael’s shoulder. “Think about it?”
Michael nods, feeling like he’s been struck mute. It’s a terrifying ask, but it’s one that he knows will take them to a new level – a better place, even. All it will take is some courage, some honesty, and some willingness to try; on both their parts. 
“Come on,” Alex breaks into that unnerving silence. “Since you’re here, I was gonna clean out the eaves today and…” He waggles his brows at him, tapping his temple.
Michael huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, my alien powers were definitely meant to clean out blockages.”
“You’re here,” Alex points out. “And you brought me coffee. It’s up to you.”
Because Michael is a sucker and because it’s better than obsessing over all those unsent messages, he does stay and he uses his powers to help clean the eaves of the cabin. His phone is in his pocket and it feels like it’s burning a hole, but he’ll figure it out. He even thinks soon, because it feels like he’s sitting on a landmine and at this point, he’d rather it just go off. 
*
It turns out that Michael doesn’t need much time to figure his shit out.
He knows that he’s not automatically healed. He knows this won’t fix everything and that he has a lot of damage to undo both with Maria and Alex, for what he’d done. Still, he also knows that the only way out is through and if that way happens to end with Alex at the finish line, then he definitely wants to pursue it. He’d come over to Alex’s place with coffee again, because yesterday after they’d finished with the eaves, Alex had mentioned something about needing to dig out the foundation to repair a crack.
So here he is, ready to work, and ready for other things, too.
The next day, Michael presses a button and sends all his drafts. He takes immense joy in hearing Alex’s phone going wild with notifications, combined with the strangled sound that Alex makes from the kitchen that tells Michael that he’s read all of them, including the filthy batch that Michael had drafted nearer to the end of the night. 
That smug feeling of victory evaporates when his own phone goes wild with alerts and he sees his inbox:
278 unread messages from Alex Manes
It looks like he’s not the only one with things unsaid. Grinning as he catches Alex’s eye, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. 
“No more unspoken words?” Alex suggests. 
That’s a promise Michael can definitely make. “No more.”
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alaslor · 6 years
Text
TASK #003 - THIS OR THAT
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tea or coffee ? honestly is alive only thanks to coffee. 
lace or velvet ? lace is so aesthetically pleasing. 
wine or beer ? avoids alcohol most of the time but honestly would have expensive wine over beer any time. he was raised by an old rich pureblood family, he has those fine tastes. would probably even share the same top 3 with lucius malfoy, ew. 
flying or apparating ? no one can chase you apparating. what’s the worst that could happen besides some splinching anyway. 
quills or pens ? quills, because it’s what feels right, what he was raised using, what a good dramatic bitch like him would love. but always with a muggle marker right next to him. those big chunky things are the best invention. 
summer or winter ? it’s worse weather for work and order stuff and he knows it, but damn if he doesn’t love winter. the storms, the snow, the freezing cold, the huge coats. feels so cozy ?? and intense ?? 
muggle music or wizard music ? is very very picky with music, but mostly goes for more jazz-like vibes, and especially older muggle music. and, of course, the wizard classics his parents listened to. 
hot or iced ? burn off his lips, or don’t exist at all. 
moon or stars ? who cares about the moon ! alastor does, but also, we just have one ! because this doesn’t include other moons ! SO MANY STARS ! let him tell you facts about half of them ! 
honeydukes or florean fortescue’s ice cream parlour ? ice cream is messy and melts easily. not a practical sweet thing. 
beach or mountain ? loves the heights .
shower or bath ? shower. practical, quick, saves water. 
solid or patterned ? alastor will never wear a pattern and this is a fact. the hogwarts’ ties stripes were already asking for too much. 
cuddling or kissing ? cuddling ! he’s a soft bitch ! 
forehead kisses or cheek kisses ? forehead kisses are rarer and purer and feel more important to him. 
roses or lavender ? sampaguitas. tries to have some fresh ones around sometimes. 
night or day ? claims to be a creature of the night, but it’s mostly because he’s had a bad case of insomnia ever since he can remember. nights are frustrating, lonely and, especially as of late, full of nightmares so give him the day please. 
fiction or non fiction ? mythology nerd, but also science books nerd.
transfiguration or potions ? transfiguration mainly because he preferred the professor much more than the obviously hunting for personal gain slughorn. 
concert or play ? just feels less wild, less packed, less variables to keep in mind. a bit of a wizard theater snob. 
robes or muggle clothes ? can’t cope with robes. so not practical. dumb, dumb, dumb. 
introverted or extraverted ? leave the man alone 
socks, slippers or barefoot ? barefoot always.
rose gold or bronze ? something timeless about bronze. 
bright or pastel colours ? really dark colours, or variations of light grey, cream, beige and white. 
small or big house ? small, because large houses feel emptier, lonelier. remind him of his childhood home a bit too much. kinda freaks him out a bit when he’s somewhere huge without every space being packed with people. 
library or bookshop ? bookshop because he buys half of it every time he visits one. 
quiet or loud ? growing up so isolated and spending so much time alone kinda left him CRAVING noise and movement. keeps the door to his offices a little open to hear the noise from outside. lives in the busiest street he could find. 
truth or dare ? is too private for truths, and too competitive to say no to a dare. 
dragons or thestrals ? in a morbid way, loves the concept of thestrals ??
thunderstorm or sunny ? let the sky scream ! 
vanilla or honey scented ? honeeey. make everything smell like honey please. alastor himself smells like honey a lot, it’s one of his go-to scents, support it. 
silver or gold ? gold feels warmer. 
radio or newspaper ? newspaper feels more personal, and he can cut off articles for his crime boards and just make shim feel like he’s stored the information better if he’s read it. 
vocal or silent spells ? silent as often as possible. lives for the element of surprise (okay u know that scene in BvS where batman is hiding in the corner of a ceiling and then BOOM attack ? u turn around and he’s there, spell already on the way)
garden or forest ? his training and experience says garden, because it’s a more controleld setting, less surprises, less possible outcomes. but he loves dense scary forests filled with creatures and ancient trees and so isolated from the rest of the world ! except the bugs. fucking hates bugs anywhere. 
bag or backpack ? charmed hidden pockets but, if needed, a backpack is the most practical item. 
tea leaf reading or tarot card ? will let someone go with the tea leaf just to amuse them, but 110% doesn’t believe in either. 
celestina warbeck or OMEN ? yes. his music taste is very much more jazz-y, and he quite likes older muggle jazz too. probably has no idea what OMEN is. 
neat or messy handwriting ? has a surprisingly neat handwriting, full of little details and flourishes, but writes most things in some sort of personal code, so you can’t make much sense of what’s there other than it’s pretty. 
lower case or all caps ? everything is URGENT
pancakes or crepes ? waffles. ever since he got a muggle waffler iron, his life has never been the same. 
bertie bott’s every flavour beans or chocolate frogs ? bertie bott’s beans, we die like men
hogsmeade or diagon alley ? hogsmeade is innocence. it’s hogwarts and reunions with old friends there, and light shopping. diagon alley feels more like work - has to patrol it often, finds many criminals there, does his own shady business in and around there. 
over the word count or the bare minimum ? at school he was that one who went like 800 words over the max. now ? you’ll get three very simple sentences at best. 
ghosts or werewolves ? ghosts are so sad and he’s secretly so afraid of becoming one. looks at one for too long and feels so anxious, nope. 
cloud watching or star gazing ? let’s go outside, hold hands, watch the stars, tell the constellations and facts about their chemical compositions ! 
countryside or city ? city, city, city. loves visiting the countryside, especially in the highlands, but can feel himself grow into a terrible mood if he stays there for too long. the youthfulness and movement and sound of the city makes him feel alive. 
witch weekly or the quibbler ? fucking hell. 
fresh fruit or fresh flowers ? fresh fruits always ! you can eat the fruit, you can’t eat the flowers ! 
sweet or sour ? the sweetest tooth. 
big spoon or little spoon ? little spoon ! i’ve said this, he’s a soft bitch ! 
rooftop or balcony ? open field or inside. 
nearly headless nick or the grey lady ? his taste for gory shit was vert often satisfied. 
lemon or lime ? lime is so GREEN and pRETTY. 
flobberworms or imps ? JUST because imps annoy him too much. 
satin or flannel ? no lumberjack fantasies here. 
pearls or diamonds ? diamonds can be very discreet and pretty while pearls are so chunky. 
dinosaur kid or fairytale kid ? fairytale kid. loved listening to folk stories from the older muggles, loved the way magic was portrayed in muggle children’s books, loved mythology. reenacted faitytale scenes by himself or with kingsley and later alisa when they were little. 
poetry or prose ? prose. he wants the information going straight from the pages to his brain, not having to interpret all that written song. 
cats, owls or frogs ? owls are practical, and gorgeous, majestic, just feel so wizard-specific. 
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thelastspeecher · 7 years
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⚡️big sis au
⚡️ - demigod
So, in the sort of superhero version of the Big Sis AU, Angie’s a superhero and Stan finds out after Emily manifests powers.  I flipped the situation here a bit, and now the non-powered parent has to deal with two superpowered children, rather than one.  Also, I sort of drew upon the show, with its whole ‘love god’ thing, by having a god be basically just like a normal supernatural thing with powers, only amped up.  If…that sentence makes sense.  I think it does.  Anyways, here, have two demigod children and a hapless human parent.
Send me an emoji and I’ll write you a ficlet!
               “Come on, honey-bun, let me takeyer temperature,” Angie wheedled.  Mollyshook her head, keeping her mouth closed. Angie sighed and pinched Molly’s nose shut.  After a few seconds, Molly’s mouth poppedopen.  Angie stuck the thermometer inimmediately.  Molly pouted.  “Sweetling, I ain’t ever seen ya get sick ‘fore. I need to keep track of ya,” Angie said soothingly.  
               “But the baby-” Molly started.
               “Emory’s ‘bout six monthsold.  We don’t need to be usin’ quarantinemethods no more,” Angie replied.  Shepulled Molly’s blanket up and tucked it in snugly around her stepdaughter.  “The only reason I ain’t back to work yet is ‘causeI had the baby blues, and yer dad is bein’ stubborn ‘bout me takin’ a couplemore weeks off.”  Angie took thethermometer out of Molly’s mouth.  “Hmm.  Yep, hon, you’ve got a fever.”  She kissed Molly’s forehead.  “I’ll go make some soup fer ya, okay?  If ya need me, just holler.”  
               “Mmkay,” Molly mumbled.  Angie exited the room, leaving the door openhalfway so that she could hear if Molly called. She walked into the living room, where Emory was in the playpen.  
               “Hey there, handsome man,” Angiecooed, picking him up.  She nuzzled Emory’snose.  “How’s my champion crawler, huh?”  Emory giggled.  Still holding her son, Angie moved theplaypen so that it would be visible from the kitchen.  She was about to set Emory down in theplaypen again when she heard a loud crash.
               That sounded like it came from Molly’s room.  Angie nestled Emory snuggly against her chestand set off.  Molly’s so sick she can barely get out of bed.  What could have made that noise?  She walked into Molly’s room.  Her stepdaughter was sitting up, rubbing hernose.
               “Sorry, Mom,” Mollymumbled.  “I sneeze loud.”
               “Snee- that was a sneeze?” Angiesaid.  Molly nodded.  Angie looked around.  “It sounded like something broke or-”  She froze. There was a hole in the drywall, directly across from the head of Molly’sbed.  “That wasn’t there before.”  She looked at Molly.  “Molly, what happened?”
               “I told you.  I sneezed.”
               “You sneezed, and there’ssuddenly a hole in the wall?” Angiedemanded.  Emory chortled and grabbed ahandful of Angie’s hair.
               “…Don’t know what to tell you,”Molly said after a moment.  “Uh, exceptthat you’re floating.”
               “I’m what?”  Angie looked down.  Sure enough, her feet were hovering a fewinches above the floor.  Angiepaled.  “Goodness.  What in the world is goin’ on?”
               “Em, cut it out,” Molly saidblearily.  Angie frowned.
               “It ain’t yer hair he’s pullin’.  I can handle him.”
               “He’s doing the floating thing though,I think.”
               “Yer baby brother is makin’ mefloat,” Angie said flatly.  Mollyshrugged.
               “Probably.  I did that to Dad when I was little.”
               “You- sweetie, are ya feelin’all right?”
               “I’m sick.”
               “True.”  Angie looked at her stepdaughter,concerned.  “I s’pose fevers can makefolks delirious, but if yer gettin’ that bad I might have to take ya to thehospital.”
               “I’m not delirious,” Mollyprotested.  She coughed.  “Just sick.” The front door opened.
               “Hey, thought I’d come home for mylunch break and check in with you guys!” Stan called.  Emory let go of Angie’s hair.
               “Da!” Emory screeched.  Stan chuckled.  A few moments later, he appeared in thedoorway to Molly’s room.  He squinted atAngie.
               “You’re…taller than usual.”
               “Da!” Emory shouted again.  With a yelp, Angie abruptly stopped floating,her feet landing firmly on the floor. Stan blinked.
               “Uh…”
               “Em made Mom float,” Mollymumbled.  
               “I really doubt that, hon,”Angie said.  “He’s just a baby.  I think it’s more likely there’s some weirdsupernatural thing we’ll have to ask Ford to check out.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.
               “Uh, I mean, you could.  But I already know what the weirdsupernatural thing is,” Stan said.
               “You do?” Angie asked.
               “Yeah.  It’s me.” Stan shrugged.  “The floatingstuff, that happens with children of minor weather gods.”  Angie stared at him.
               “Minor…what?”
               “He said minor weather gods,”Molly grumbled.  “Can you leave,please?  I wanna sleep.”
               “Oh, okay, darlin’.  Sure,” Angie said.  She walked out of Molly’s room.  Stan closed the door and took Emory fromAngie.  Emory promptly grabbed a chunk ofStan’s hair.
               “You all right, babe?” Stanasked quietly.  Angie shook herhead.  “Yeah, I probably shoulda told yousooner, but, uh, I dunno, it never really came up.”
               “I’m a bit concerned, darlin’.  I don’t- I don’t think I believe you,” Angiesaid softly.
               “You might change your mind thefirst time Emory floods the nursery,” Stan said.  Angie’s head drooped.  
               “Floods…the nursery.”
               “Yeah.  But if we install some warding spells, we canprobably keep the damage to a minimum,” Stan said.  He put an arm around Angie’s shoulders andbegan to guide her into the living room. She took a seat on the couch, her face expressionless and numb.  “Uh…do you- do you want a drink or-”  Angie shook her head.
               “No, I’m still breastfeedin’.  And I don’t want to deal with havin’ todispose of tainted breastmilk.”  She puther head in her hands.  “Stanley, yer a…a‘minor weather god’?”
               “Yeah.  Nothing big. Can’t even mess with the weather in a large area.  I max out at about the size of a state,” Stansaid.  Angie groaned.  “Seriously, it’s nothing to be worried aboutor whatever.  I don’t even have aformally assigned job.  Aside from thegeneral rule of not messing with mortals. Or siring children with mortals. But no one follows that anyways.” Angie groaned again.  “Look, it’snot like the kids are that destructive. They can do some air and water manipulation, and Molly’s made tinytornadoes before, but it’s not really that bad.”
               “Good Lord,” Angie muttered.  She squeezed her eyes shut.  “This ain’t- Stanley, my entire view of theworld has been shaken.  My fiancé is a god. I- I’m a good Catholic woman. This don’t make sense to me.”
               “Yeah,” Stan said, taking a seatnext to her.  “I’m a god.  Not the big one, witha capital G and everything.  I mean, ‘god’is a strong word, anyways.  More like a…super-powerfulnature spirit.”  Angie nodded slowly.
               “I can handle a nature spirit.”
               “Good,” Stan said.  Emory babbled happily.  “I wasgonna tell you.  But then I knocked youup, and I didn’t wanna stress you.  Andthen you got postpartum and I didn’t wanna make things worse.”
               “The not makin’ things worseship has sailed, darlin’,” Angie said, smiling weakly at Stan.
               “Figured.”
               “I’m goin’ to need some time tocope with the realization that my children are half-god.”
               “The proper term is-”
               “-demigod, I know,” Angiesupplied.  She raised an eyebrow.  “Is ‘half-god’ not the polite term?”
               “Uh, no, not really.  It’s pretty much a derogatory word.”
               “I’ll be sure to avoid sayin’that, then.”  Angie grabbed one of Emory’sfeet and wiggled it.  “I’d hate to berude ‘bout my own kidlets.”  There was aloud crash.  “Sounds like yer daughtersneezed again.”
               “…After work I’ll stop by thestore and get stuff to fix the wall,” Stan said.  Angie held out her arms.
               “I’ll take my lil demigod babyback now,” Angie said.  Stan handed Emoryover.  Angie snuggled her son.  “I s’pose it makes sense though.”
               “What makes sense?”
               “Well, traditionally, gods ‘reknown fer sowin’ their wild oats.”  Angiegrinned at Stan.  “That’s what ya didwith me, ain’t it?”
               “Nah.  More like…I settled down to farm the wild oats,”Stan said slowly.  Angie shook her head,hiding a smile.  “I just killed themetaphor, didn’t I?”
               “Ya most certainly did.  Leave the farmin’ metaphors to the folks whoknow ‘bout farmin’.”
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tipsoctopus · 5 years
Text
Alasdair Gold on Tottenham: Stadium impact, Alderweireld future, potential transfer targets
Alasdair Gold, Football.London’s Tottenham Hotspur correspondent took the time to sit down with Football FanCast on Saturday, ahead of the Spurs Legends clash with their Inter Milan counterparts.
He gave us the rundown on the new stadium, Spurs’ transfer plans and his prediction for the Champions League quarter-final clash with Manchester City.
Take a look below…
After all the delays over the move, you must have been excited to finally get here…
“I’ve been doing video updates around the ground, walking around it, metaphorically banging on windows, trying to get in. They’re very good, they put on a little press tour just before the test event, a couple of days before and we got to see it and it was one of those moments of exhaling and saying ‘it was worth it’ because it is phenomenal. It is phenomenal on the outside but actually, when you’re inside you appreciate the scale of it.”
You can see it from two miles up Seven Sisters…
“That’s such a difference. White Hart Lane was such a tucked away ground and that was part of its appeal, that you’d walk around the corner and see a stadium there. Whereas this place, you come out of Seven Sisters, you can see the top of it. It’s a landmark, really. That’s what they wanted to create and they have.”
The South Stand in particular looks amazing…
“Yeah, when that’s full, the noise is going to be ridiculous. They’ve signed it in such a way, they’re very keen to say that the guy who does U2 concerts has done the acoustics so it’ll be louder than any other football ground. For the last test event, the Under-18 match with 30,000 or so, for every goal, the cheers rolled around the ground. Even a half-full stadium was almost deafening. 62,000 will sound very, very loud, it’ll be fantastic.”
It’s Palace on Wednesday. Andros Townsend first goal?
“That’s what everyone’s dreading, isn’t it? Cutting in on his right foot and banging it in, that would be so horrific, it really would. It’d be the worst way to kick off the new stadium. You’d hope not. Pochettino has made this big deal about how the stadium will give special energy to the team, a bit like White Hart Lane in its final year. Even the Under-18s.
“You could just tell there was a buzz about them, I know they’re young kids playing on a big stage but the crowd kind of carried them along and they never really had that at Wembley. It’s a bigger capacity but it never really felt like home. It was a big cavernous stadium, towards the end, the numbers were dropping and dropping. You’d think, with Spurs back here, it’s going to be packed. It was carnage, people trying to get tickets. It’s going to be so noisy and it’ll be so hyped up, you’d think that would get Spurs there because, yes, an Andros Townsend 1-0 winner would be a horrific way to open the stadium.”
That is the expectation, the Spurs gallows humour…
“Oh, absolutely, you can’t be a Tottenham Hotspur fan and expect the best. It doesn’t work like that, there’s always going to be some spanners in the works. Andros Townsend may be that spanner! He’s certainly not a spanner but he was very good in the FA Cup, he didn’t celebrate, I’m sure there’s a part of him that doesn’t want to be the guy that does that in the first game. It’s up to Spurs to stop him doing it. They’ve got to sort the defence out, which hasn’t been that great the last couple of months.”
If it can’t cope vs Palace, then they might not have much of a chance against Man City…
“That’s putting it lightly. They’ll get absolutely stuffed by City if they’re anything like they have been in recent games. He’s got some decisions to make, Poch. This season, he’s flipped and flapped between a back three and a back four and I don’t think that’s helped the team.
“Last year, he may have been weirdly helped, if that’s such a way of describing Toby Alderweireld’s injury, but Alderweireld’s injury meant he had to play Jan Vertonghen and Davinson Sanchez. They formed a very solid partnership and they knew what each other were doing and when it went to a back three, it was purely Eric Dier coming back into that back three. It was very settled.
“This year, he looks like a man who is thinking ‘I have to play Alderweireld, because he’s class’ but it’s now giving him an issue with Sanchez, who Pochettino absolutely adores, so he’s now got a thing of ‘I really want to play a back three but I can’t do it every match’ and it’s messy. You can see it in the goals conceded tally. I think it’s almost double what it ended up as last season.”
Surely there will be some sort of deal this summer to help out the defence?
“You’d think so. I think right-back has been a bit of a mess. It’s a bit like Trippier hasn’t been able to get down from that peak of that World Cup semi-final free-kick. He’s not creating enough anymore and you don’t want to use the term ‘believing his own hype’ but a lot of fans have been saying that. Serge Aurier hasn’t been the player Spurs thought they were buying. It was always a gamble but he hasn’t been an upgrade. If he could have put his personal issues aside, actually, as a player, he’d be a real upgrade. He just hasn’t done it, he’s too inconsistent in defending.
“Kyle Walker-Peters, everyone wants him to get a chance, but when he has had a chance, apart from Bournemouth, he really hasn’t taken it. It might see him go out on loan, I think right-back is the area for me. Left-back, I think he’s quite happy with. Danny Rose has shown signs of being more like the old Danny Rose but I don’t think enough. He’s still not doing enough in the final third for me and if you’re playing with wing-backs, they have to do that.
“Ben Davies is just mister dependable. He’s not creating as much as he did last year; I think last year he created more than any other defender in the Premier League, I remember that stat at one point last year. He’s just the guy that you bring in if you want to shore things up. It needs something there, it needs a bit of excitement, it’d be nice to have someone who’s been there and done it, too, with a bit of experience in that full-back area.”
Gareth Bale’s available!
“Well, if they’ve got £650,000 a week, I’m sure they can do it! That’s what he’s supposed to earn and I think that’s before tax in Spain. It’s a very romantic notion, Bale and Modric, another one people are wanting, but it’s just not the Tottenham way right now.”
Are we talking more Aaron Wan-Bissaka or Max Aarons?
“Very much so, very much so. That’s the kind of players. British talent (is wanted) because they had a total mess with the foreign player limit last year. Michel Vorm, we’ll probably see leave, because that’s another foreign player signing they could make. I do wonder if it’s going to be a bit of a revamp this summer, I think they have to. There’s a positive to the stability they’ve had because it’s clearly given a foundation but they’ve never really kicked above it.
“I think a bit of a revamp is probably needed, I think Poch needs to freshen things up for himself as well. He’s working with the same players he’s been working with since 2014, pretty much, on the whole. I think he’s got to freshen it up. The stadium will freshen things up but in terms of the squad, we will see. Obviously, Eriksen and Alderweireld could be out the door. It could be forced upon them anyway.”
Does the clause in Alderweireld’s contract now feel like a huge mistake?
“It was very un-Tottenham like, that clause. That was the weird thing about it. It was very un-Levy like. He (Alderweireld) put something on Instagram after the stadium training session saying ‘this place is amazing, it’s exceeded all my expectations’, so I asked Pochettino about that in the press conference. I didn’t name the player but I asked if the stadium could help convince players to sign new contracts and he was just like ‘nope’.
“He said it’s a lovely romantic notion and you and I would probably feel that way but he said there’s so much around the players, so many people who are so involved in the business side of it that it just doesn’t work like that anymore. You kind of have to feel he was talking about Alderweireld.
“There’s been a lot of background noise about deals that were offered and not taken and the fact that no deal has seemingly been offered in the last year or so. I think it’s a player who is coming towards the end of his time at Spurs which is tremendously sad because he’s a terrific player. But I suppose the flipside is £25million for a 30-year-old ends up not being the worst deal in the world. But it is Alderweireld.”
Could he bow out with the last hurrah of winning the Champions League?
“Yeah, I don’t think that’d keep him. It’d be more of an ‘I’ve done that now, let’s tick it off the list’. It would be a massive achievement if Spurs won the Champions League. It wouldn’t quite be Leicester winning the Premier League but it would be an amazing thing. In the players’ minds, they might think it was a one-off and wonder if they could do it again at this club. We’ll see, we’ll see. I think rebuilding is the aim of the summer.”
Is the new stadium going to play a key role against Man City in the Champions League?
“You’d hope so otherwise what was the point of it all. Getting it open before the end of the season is for nights like that. The fans are going to be so hyped up. The opening night is going to be noisy but that, with the Champions League anthem playing, the fans are going to be so on edge, in a good way. And it’s suddenly become a little bit harder for City. They came to Wembley earlier this season, it was just another match for them. This place, they will be coming into enemy territory. It’s got to play a role, it has to. Otherwise, Spurs are in trouble.”
Do they need to win the home leg?
“I think so, they have to go to the Etihad with something to hold onto instead of something to build on because we know, you know, I know it’s not the same level but we saw City against Fulham and it was just wave after wave of attacks and Spurs currently, I don’t feel they’re mentally strong enough to deal with that. We’ve seen a lot of examples where they would’ve drawn matches in the past but they’ve conceded another straight away, they’re not there mentally this season. I worry about going to the Etihad with something like a 1-1, I don’t think that’s enough.”
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