drmcsexy | (no subject)

Michael is still waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. It’s not that he actively thinks it’s going to but building up trust isn’t done over night and while he and Alex had damaged each other, there had never really been a bond with Kyle Valenti to begin with. There were some things that Michael trusts him with without question: Alex’s best interest, the whole alien truths and things along those lines. The relationship sort of trust, though, that is a long way in coming. Michael only really knew how to be left and side lined or blamed for things.

Michael didn’t know how to be in a healthy relationship even if it was just Alex, it left him constantly waiting for the moment Alex walks out the door. And with Kyle in the mix Alex had all the more reasons to walk away from Michael. And Michael hates that he can’t help but go there, hates even more that the more time passes the more he finds it’s not just Alex he’s dreading walking away. There isn’t the same visceral cosmic connection with Kyle but there’s... something, maybe it’s because of Alex, maybe not. It’s impossible to be certain Michael’s pretty damned sure of that.

There’s a hesitancy to go to the Wild Pony to meet Kyle and not just for the particular obvious reason that he’d been avoiding Maria for a while. That friendship was going to take a lot to repair and he just didn’t have it to be able to do the work on it yet. In any case, he’d finished up working on a car before cleaning up and headed to the bar. He’s half expecting this to be some form of a shovel talk but rationalizes that away as he walks in. Michael goes straight to the table when he catches sight of Kyle and offers him a quick smile.

“Hey.” He sits down, though he shouldn’t procrastinate and should go snatch a beer or commandeer a bottle of something stronger from the bar. Procrastination it is. “So, what is all this about, Valenti?”

For Kyle the location is thinking about a place that is more neutral. That isn't Alex's house, and isn't their own homes. Somewhere they can try and talk, to get to know one another more than through Alex. He needs this because he wants to know Michael. The sex is good, but he wants the rest of it to be that way. To have things be good between them. Given things in Caulfield, even before they went to Hell, he's not sure really how they stand.

The other part of the location was...

"She's not here," he says casually. "Liz came by to see me earlier and told me they were doing a girl's night thing so figured it gave us an neutral place to hang out for a bit. I just kind of wanted time to talk to you, hang out," he says, rolling his eyes. "I sound like an idiot, I know, but I'm dating someone I don't really know. I want to know."

"You could have mentioned that," Michael mutters, pushing his fingers through his hair and he glances at the bar which he had been actively avoiding looking at. "You do sound like an idiot."

Then without preamble he nods toward the bar.

"Gonna get a drink then," he said with a flash of a smile and came back with a bottle of whiskey and a couple shot glasses as he sat down across from Kyle. There's still something strange about doing this in public, talking to Kyle in public since things had shifted and all anyway. Public spaces weren't a thing he'd ever really done with Alex, the other had avoided being seen with him at all costs it felt like so Kyle actively choosing somewhere public? That's new. Not that he thought it'd be obvious to anyone what's actually going on between them.

Michael pours two shots of whiskey after he settled at the table. "Kind of thought you might have been telling me to come here to tell me to fuck off." He might as well be honest, right?

"Well, thanks. I appreciate how smoothly this is already going," he says, his expression flat despite the sickly sweet tones. "I knew this would be so fun," he adds, tones dropping as he mutters it at Michael's back, downing half his beer in a single drink.

His thumbnail picks at the edge of the label, slowly peeling it back. It's easy in the cabin, with Alex there and seeing how much this means to him to make this work, but he can't help that feeling in the pit of his stomach that tells him it's just not going to happen. Even if he knows he's not going to be the one to give up. Alex asked this of him, and he had faith in Kyle this could work. He's going to try. No matter how much it all seems to play up on that same anxious feeling he had that day, waiting, only to end up being shot.

"If I was going to tell you that, I wouldn't do it in public. My one and only public break up was prom," he mutters, knowing if he starts with that shot, he's not likely to quit. "Besides, why would I?"

Really, what did Kyle expect from Michael when he leaves him an opening like that. He actually isn't trying to be difficult or make this some form of torture really. It's partly just a defense mechanic to push at Kyle that way.

Settled into the table for good this time he takes a shot of the whiskey and leans back.

"I guess I'll keep that in mind," Michael said, because regardless he still expected it to come at some point, from Kyle, from Alex... He lifts a shoulder at the question. "It's what people do when it comes to me. They leave or they tell me to get out been that way since I can remember. It's always only a matter of time and..." he waves his hand and shrugs before pouring another shot. Michael clearly has as much faith in Kyle as he's had in Alex's ability to stick around and not walk away.

Michael exhales then. "Look, I'm blowing this aren't I?" This being this outing...date... whatever it is. Sex is so much easier.

"No, you're not blowing it, but you're kinda hoping I will and prove you right," he says, giving him a look. "But not sure why you think I will. I'm not everyone else, and I'll be the first to say that the truth is, Guerin, I don't know you. I know of you, but I don't know you. That's why I invited you here tonight. Just so we could get to know one another on what is the best neutral territory I could think off because neither of us is interested in that tourist trap of a bar out on the highway.

"So you can keep believing that Alex is just biding his time, or that I'm just here to take him from you but the truth?" That's when he picks up the shot, downing it. "Much as you think he will, I know for a fact that he loves you and yeah his heart is broken and I'm guessing yours is too, and I am in this knowing that he belongs to you so believe what you want, I know the facts."

And yet he's still there, taking a chance in hopes he might get to stick around Alex a little more and not go back to friends. If they can even have that after this.

"And I get why you hate me. I also know we both care about him so the least we can do is try and get to know one another. Then if we end up hating one another at least we have a reason, right?"

Michael scowls at the implication that he's hoping Kyle will blow it. He looks away as he takes another shot of whiskey and probably is going to drink at too fast a pace for a moment here. He pours them both another shot after the other downs one and pushes his fingers through his hair again. To his credit, at least he doesn't interrupt Kyle while the other is talking.

Grandstanding, he'd call it actually.

"I'm not hoping you're going to blow it, unless you mean my dick and then maybe I am," Michael says and leans back for a moment.

"He doesn't belong to me, he never belonged to me Kyle." He looks down at the table. You know what, they could go in circles on this forever and he just shakes his head. "This isn't going to help accomplish what you want," he said, meaning this topic, this direction of the conversation. They could both go back and forth on their expectations of this. Michael knew that he isn't the type that people stick with for long.

"I don't hate you, though. I hate how you treated Alex but if he's moved on from that then," Michael shrugs. Kyle's shown he knows how to treat Alex good now and that counts for something. "What do you want to know about me?"

"And that's why we're in public," he notes, though he's smiling. Because he's thinking much the same thing. It would be so easy to just ensure that when they're around one another it's in private, and they can lose close and it would be good. They both can definitely do the sex side of things easily.

Michael wants more than that. He's had the starts of that with Alex, and he likes it. Likes having someone he wants to spend time with, can be comfortable around. He needs to try and see if they can have this as well. He wants it. Even as much as in that moment he really does kind of want to drag Michael into the bathroom and get on his knees.

"And what is it you think I want to accomplish? Getting to know you? Trying to find a way to make this more than us playing nice because of Manes and getting one another off?"

Because honestly it's all that he's looking to try to make this work, and maybe it's selfish so he doesn't have a break up before it becomes a bit thing between them.

"I hate the guy I was then too," he points out. "Which doesn't make it better but I would never treat anyone like that again. What do you expect to get out of this? What do you want?"

Michael just rolls his eyes a bit. It's not like they couldn't get out to his truck in the parking lot or the bathroom but he doesn't point it out, at least not out loud. He turns the glass in his hand.

It would be easy to just be argumentative with Kyle because the other option is being honest, which makes him vulnerable but that's the point isn't it? And Michael's been so fucking tired of lies and secrets and hiding. And Michael wants things to work, he just doesn't believe that he's going to have a place long-term. He doesn't know if it's an itch that just needs scratched out or what but eventually, they won't need him or want him. He won't be wanted.

Michael takes another drink and fills himself up just as soon after. So those first questions, he doesn't answer, just shrugs. And when Kyle agrees with not liking who he was in high school at least it's common ground or... whatever.

"What kind of questions are those, Valenti? What do you mean what do I expect? I don't expect... anything." Which is true in a sense. He doesn't expect anything from Kyle or Alex except the eventual discarding of him when he's not serving a purpose, just like foster families had done and Max and to an extent Isobel. He doesn't see how it wouldn't happen with Kyle and Alex when they were both... just better than him. An airman, a doctor and an alien criminal is a good start of a joke but not a lasting relationship.

"I just want Alex to be happy," also true if a bit of a disengenous answer. "Do you really think you're gonna get to know me asking me these kinds of questions?"

He knew better. He knew this was going to be a waste of time, and that it was just going to end in him frustrated and tired of everything. He'd thought it would take longer, but that doesn't change that in the end, he knew better.

"You know what? You're right. You win, Guerin," he announces, downing the freshly poured shot and setting the glass upside down on the table. "This was stupid and there's no point, is there? All that matter is we both want Alex happy, and so we're going to do whatever it takes to ensure that happens. We don't have to know one another, or even like one another, for that to happen. Just so long as around him, we're civil with one another. I can manage that, for him. Whatever it is he wants."

Because in a short time feelings of admiration and respect were quickly becoming more and with everything else going on in his life, if this is what Kyle has to do to keep the peace and still see Alex, so be it.

Pulling out his wallet, he tossed some bills on the table. "That should cover the bottle, since this was my idea, and I guess I'll see you sometime at the cabin because apparently the only thing we can agree on is that we care about him. So whatever it takes for his sake."

Michael is kind of surprised at the suddenness that Kyle just... quits. It wasn't exactly what Michael was aiming for and maybe he shouldn't have been so critical and contrary about the approach. "Fuck, Kyle," he snaps and it's an effort not to raise his voice.

He gets up too, finishing off a shot and he grabs the bottle and then looks at Kyle.

"You don't get what I'm saying, dumbass," he says, but with the bottle in hand he looks at Kyle. "You want to get to know me? Come with me," he says and he's headed out of the Wild Pony and to his truck. He's not even close to drunk enough that driving wouldn't be safe. Because even if he's not ready to admit it, he does want more than just to make Alex happy. He wants to be happy. He doesn't want to be left again and he wants more with Kyle because there's... something there even if that something is different than what's there with Alex.

So much of his frustration is as much about his own tension as it is Guerin's attitude. Maybe Kyle's holding on to it from Caulfield, from the constant feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff and holding his breath because eventually a stiff enough breeze is going to strike him in the center of the back and send him tumbling over the edge.

There's a part of him that doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to spend his day bickering and he doesn't want to spend the day being shit on either. Because that part bothers him more than the fighting. The thought of being looked down on by Michael, of feeling as if he's good enough to fuck but not good enough to be friends with. He doesn't ever expect it to be more than that, but he'd had a hope for that when Alex had propositioned them for this.

So he follows Michael out, figuring they're about to defeat the purpose. They've already proven they can get sex right, and as good as that might feel for the time being, Kyle knows he'll end up in that mental slump again that drove him to texting Guerin to begin with. That one where he wants to feel like more than a piece on the side.

Michael makes sure the lid is on the bottle before he puts it on the floor of the passenger side of the truck. “Get in,” he says, leaning against the frame of the truck and waiting to make sure Kyle actually does get in before he’d climb in as well. He doesn’t want Kyle to walk away from him, from whatever they’re trying to make here.

When he gets into the truck he’s quick to turn the engine on and what he’s doing is driving out to the ranch. He’s not supposed to be there but since when did Michael give a shit about things he’s not supposed to do.

“Look, I know I’m an asshole and whatever but I wasn’t trying to shut you down. But fuck, you’re kind of being clinical about this,” Michael said as he sped in the direction out of town.

Climbing into the truck, Alex buckles his seat belt, considering Michael. There's things he wants to say, and things he just isn't even sure how to broach. He can't find it in himself to talk about his feelings, not when he really hasn't even vocalized them to Alex even.

"Well, I mean... Doctor," he says with a shrug, though he's being a dick himself and he knows it. "Fine, do you want me to ask the one thing I want to know? How long do you plan to give me before you take charge of things and get me out of your relationship?"

He winces, and he hates himself for saying it but years of being on call means he's not been downing shorts on a regular basis on top of a beer. Not sounding angry but emotional, hating himself for how he sounds. He sounds pathetic and he knows it.

Michael rolls his eyes at the reference to being a doctor. But that's not what ends up pissing Michael off. He nearly stops the truck then and there. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

"So wanting to get to know me was just a line of bullshit?" Michael snaps and seriously reconsiders the destination and just going to the junkyard instead. They can fuck and forget whatever this attempt was.

"Last I checked, this was our relationship and I'm pretty sure if anyone's going to get booted out of it it's going to be me because Alex has always known he's too good for me and now he has you. So eventually, the novelty of me is going to wear off... I ain't gonna speed that along by sabotaging you because I couldn't if I tried."

He had slowed down, no longer speeding and he was hurt by the question, by the fact he actually believed for a minute that Kyle had been real about wanting to get to know him. He should have figured by the bullshit line of questions to begin with instead of trying to let Kyle into his world in a better way than the other was doing.

"Should I just go to the junkyard and we can fuck and forget ... this conversation ever happened?"

"No. It wasn't a fucking line but given the attitude I've had since go, I had no reason to believe you gave a shit about trying," he says, his words not loud but his tone hard. "I literally wanted to get to know you because I didn't know you in high school, and I barely know you now, and we're involved so I want to know you."

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair, staring out the side window as he considers his words, tries not to just be hurt and angry and worried all rolled into one.

"Okay, you know what, I'm going to say this and you can fucking hate me for it but Alex knows no such thing. He's never thought that. Alex doesn't have it in him to think that," he says, pointblank and serious. "If he was that kind of man, he wouldn't have forgiven you."

He shifts, turning on the seat to face Michael as much as he can, staring at him and knowing this could be dangerous after the speeding that had already happened.

"You think that you're not good enough for him, but you're the only one involved in this thinking that because, like I said, it's not in Alex to feel that way, and I know I sure as Hell don't think that."

He shakes his head. "No, keeping going where you were heading. I don't want to forget it. I don't want to just fall back on sex because it's easy. If I wanted easy, Guerin, I would have walked out of Alex's after the first kiss. Or would have drive off when I saw the two of you standing there talking on the porch. Falling back on sex is saying we can't handle this, and I think we can. What do you think?"

"Stop talking for Alex, Christ," Michael snaps. His hands tighten on the wheel again and the speed does pick up once more. He doesn't point out to Kyle the things that Alex has said to him that just prove that those thoughts had been there whether Alex really believed them or not. The things Alex has said stay clear in his mind and it's going to take a lot more than words denying or explaining them to make the original go away.

The rest of it... Michael just stares ahead, though it's tempting to look over at Kyle. "Come on Kyle, that's just... you're a fucking doctor and he's an airman and what am I? Anyone with any eyes or common sense sees what doesn't belong here."

He doesn't really want to fight, not about this. "Just let it go, Kyle."

Either way, he will keep headed toward the place he'd always run to. He pushes his fingers through his curls and makes the turn when he gets to it. "Maybe we can. Maybe we can't."

With all the speeding it hadn't taken long to get to the ranch and Michael parked, reaching to grab the bottle and he takes a drink from it as soon as the truck is parked and then gets out to go back and pull the tailgate of his truck down, jumping up on it.

"Then ask him," he snaps back, rolling his eyes. "But he wouldn't have asked this of us, wanted this, if he felt that way. "And if you want to wreck this truck and kill yourself, fine, but let me out," he says, glaring. "I've seen enough mangled fucking bodies from emotional driving to not want to be one of them, thank you."

He shakes his head. "Naw, you asked. I'm going to tell you how I feel. I don't think about what someone does for a living when it comes to sleeping with them or dating them. Do you know why I went to medical school? Besides that I fucked up my knee? Because I realized just what a monster I had become and I wanted to do better. For myself and for others. Which means I don't freak out because I had a crush on my friend, and I don't judge you for living a harder life than I could have ever survived," he says, his voice softening as he says it to him.

Climbing out of the truck, he comes around and moves to stand in front of Michael, sliding his hands over his knees and along his thighs. A casual intimate touch despite the fighting and snapping.

"I get you're worried. We're both worried about the same thing, but it's going to come true for both of us if we can't work this out, but..." He pauses, considering this. Not hiding how nervous he is saying this, how much it hurts, even if he isn't even sure about his emotions with Alex alone. He's never been good with emotions. "If you can't forgive me or get past what I've done to him, and really to both of you because of it..." Between Jesse and Kyle he can understand if Alex isn't entirely comfortable in his sexuality. Or hasn't been. "Let me know now, okay? I don't want to screw things up for either of you."

His tones and words are softer than they've been, tense about opening up but trying to do the best he can.

Michael doesn't say anything right away. He needs a minute and the time from the door to the tailgate and a couple drinks of whiskey before Kyle is right there too was enough. He didn't expect Kyle to touch him, he felt a give somewhere inside him and his stomach twisted. He's not exactly great with emotion in his own way too. He sets the bottle down, his hands going over the other's where Kyle's were on his thighs. It's a reassuring thing the intimate contact, physical touch was always what got to Michael the best. He got lost in trying to have conversations. He didn't know why it was like that with every damned person he gave a shit about.

"I'm over it, what you did. I don't know how many ways I can tell you that. I can see who you are now and how you treat Alex and that's what matters. I trust his judgment of you, Kyle," Michael looks to the side, shaking his head. "Besides, Alex would never forgive me if I said or did anything that pushed you away from him." And maybe they're better for having Kyle and his ridiculous clinical approach to almost everything.

"You asked me what I wanted," Michael says, a question from the Wild Pony. "I just want to be happy. I've been miserable every day since Rosa. And that's not all on Alex... or anyone..." Well, it's a little on Max but you know. "And I want us to get to know each other too."

His hands slid away from Kyle's and he lifted one to cup Kyle's cheek, leaning in for a single, rather chaste kiss before nodding at the tailgate. "You gonna join me or what?"

It's been years for Kyle since he's been close to others, but he doesn't much talk about it. It's all on him. Throwing himself into college and then his residency, and then into surgery in Roswell. It's easier to focus on those things, on those clinically minded things that he can handle without thinking about it. He's good at what he does, and that's what matters. Even with bringing aliens into things, he feels he's handling it well.

This throws him for a loop. Ever since he kissed Alex in a game of chicken that was anything but. Ever since Alex had made that proclamation and Michael and he had first kissed. This is opening up and not hiding all the things he's buried for so long.

"If... If you had said you couldn't handle it, he wouldn't have known. I would have backed away and he could blame me." He wasn't going to ruin things between Alex and Michael. He just doesn't want to lose what he has.

Leaning into that touch, smiling slightly at that kiss as he shifts to settled onto the tailgate next to Michael. Picking up the bottle, he takes a drink and then hands it to him.

"You know I think that's what all of us want. I don't think any of us have ever been happy," he mutters softly. "Even Isobel who thought she was wasn't."

“Yeah but then it’d just be another fucking secret or lie,” and Michael is so tired of those. He is relieved when the other settles beside him, though he kind of missed the weight of his hands on his thighs. There’s a moment as the other drinks and then hands him the bottle that he hesitates.

But as he takes it and another drink and then another he scoots close so that their thighs and arms are brushing each other. It’s enough points of contact to satisfy him.

“No, she was. Just because he was a liar doesn’t make her experiences a lie,” Michael says, lifting his shoulders and then looking up to the sky.

Shifting into that touch, moving his arm and sliding it along the bed of the truck behind Michael so that he's almost holding him, testing the water between them. He likes how it feels though, likes being close to him. And not for the obvious reason.

"I seriously want to camp with you in the snow," he says suddenly, chuckling. "Just curl up in a tent and be toasty," he says, shrugging because it's kind of a dumb thing to think about but now it's in his head.

Falling quiet for a minute before looking at Michael's profile.

"She's stronger than me," he says, staring at the desert, the scent of sand and dust and sage and creosotes as comforting as the heat of whiskey in his system. "I learned just parts of my life was all of this bullshit and I can't stop thinking about how much it changes everything in my head."

His dad was a monster who died violently because of it. His dad helped cover up things. Because of him people were held and tortured for being different. The man he idolized likely never helped Michael because of that.

Michael likes that, Kyle's arm right there and he doesn't quite want to admit it. There's a lot of things he's not sure he wants to admit.

"That's... weird," Michael grins but he's not exactly judging. "Do people actually go fucking camping in the snow?"

"She's stronger than most people," Michael replies and lifts a shoulder. He takes another drink of the whiskey and then offers it back to Kyle. "It only changes what you let it change."

It's easy and casual, and if Michael wants to move away, he can. Kyle's glad though that he hasn't. He likes casual intimacy, being near to those he trusts and likes, and much as Guerin is a pain in the ass, he does trust and like him.

"I have. I like it. Cuddle up to stay warm, go skiing in the morning, or hiking in the snow. I don't know. I like it."

Though there's a lot of things he does regularly and likes that most aren't exactly into. Like working out the way he does.

Taking the bottle, he doesn't drink out of it. Not right away. "I'm letting it change what I think of him. I spent my whole life thinking he was a good man, and now I'm looking back on what he did, and didn't do, and realizing I was a fucking fool," he says, taking a drink, toying with the bottle before taking another.

Michael just snorts because he guess it kind of makes sense for Kyle or whatever. He would do something ridiculous like that. Michael probably could be convinced to go, maybe. It'd probably take a lot of convincing.

He's quiet as Kyle talks, leaning back just a little and looking up at the sky. He always felt a little better out here. It still fucking messed him up that he'd basically been kicked off this land. And he's not supposed to be here now which who knows for sure if Kyle even realizes they're technically probably breaking about 10 federal laws at the moment.

"People aren't black and white, Valenti. They're fucking shades of grey. Your dad wasn't the same kind of monster that Jesse Manes was and that should count for something. Sorry he wasn't perfect but he did give a shit about you. Don't lose that."

"You're right, he wasn't. He was the subversive kind who pretended he was doing good and what? Let Jesse run that goddamn prison? Who left you living on the streets as a kid and never actually did his job to help you? Oh and let's not forget the one even I knew about and never realized how horrible he was. He knew his best friend was beating his kid and let it happen," he growls, shaking his head.

"You're right. Shades of grey. The fact that he didn't beat me too doesn't forgive everything he let happen, that he knew about and took part in," he says. "I don't want to hold on to his legacy, Michael," he says, shaking his head. "And I'm sorry I'm being a fucking whiny bitch right now," he mutters softly, holding the bottle out to Michael. "I've been trying to keep myself busy so I don't think about this, but I need to face it, and do something about it."

“I wouldn’t have accepted his help if he tried. I also didn’t exactly make it obvious I needed help,” Michael muttered, finding it a strange feeling that Kyle pulled him into the whole thing too. He shrugs a little and takes the bottle back to take a long drink out of it.

“What the hell could you do about any of it?”

Michael just settled on that because honestly he doesn’t know what to do with most of it. He doesn’t really feel equipped with the tools to deal with most of this. He looks down at the bottle. “The alien that gave your dad the tumor... my mom was in a cell just like them. What if she Could do something awful like that too? Should it mean less that she loved me? I just don’t think you should throw everything out with the bad just because you found out the man you thought was a hero wasn’t.”

"Shouldn't the county have noticed at some point? Welfare checks? Or is that all smoke and mirrors that society, and myself, are willing to believe are real?"

And he hates he feels this way but now he wonders. With every child with a bruise, every foster kid he has come into the ER on his rotations, he wonders.

"Would that alien have given my father a tumor if he wasn't being held prisoner and being experimented on? None of them should have been there. I think every day about what would happen if ICE came for Arturo, and no one knew to even try and advocate for a group of people being victimized like that."

He glances sidelong at Michael. "If you had known she did things like Jesse and my father with the same malice they acted on, how would you feel?"

"If you don't want people to know and the foster family doesn't want people to know..." Michael shrugs. "The checks keep coming, I don't cause any trouble really so who the fuck gives a shit about some nothing kid."

Michael looks down at the bottle of whiskey and the conversation is starting to really make him tense. It's a lot and it doesn't seem to have a point which made it worse somehow. "Do these what ifs even matter, Kyle? The point is no one's fucking perfect. No one's all good or all bad, you of all people should know that." Because no the aliens shouldn't have been there but they'd been there long before Kyle's father and by then hadn't the lore around them already been built up by xenophobic idiots?

"I don't know, Kyle. I don't have the same frame of reference as you. I didn't grow up loving her or even knowing she fucking existed. I thought I was alone because I was alone. And fuck, I'd run away here and stare at the stars and just wish someone would come save me and she was... there instead. So it doesn't matter. And you know, I thought Isobel killed those girls. I saw her, Kyle. It didn't change a damned thing about what I felt or thought about her and I protected her from the truth instead. So I'm the wrong person to ask if you want someone to agree with you."

But in Kyle's mind, someone should care. Someone should realize these kids are being hurt, and he's though it enough to help make sure they stay well and do everything he can or them, and he just feels like he keeps seeing the world anew, and none of it's good and it hurts. It hurts feeling he should do more, and he isn't even sure where to start.

"It matters to me," he says softly, even as he shakes his head. "Which doesn't matter. I get it," he says in the same voice, staring off into the desert but not really seeing anything at all.

"I don't want or need you to agree with me. I just realized that drinking isn't helping me much because it makes it harder not to talk about what I'm always thinking about," he says, putting the bottle kind of pressed between their legs, just to hold it up right, not even wanting to hold it because he's not sure he won't take another drink.

"Forget I said anything. I'm just being a dick with alcohol in his system rambling. Ignore me and everything I've said. Seriously, I'll be fine."

Because there's no other choice. There's things he needs to do, and people he needs to help and he just needs to forget about it all. At least openly, because it doesn't matter what he's thinking about if no one else knows.

Michael rolls his eyes because there's something irritating about the way Kyle would say something and dismiss himself in the same breath and he was constantly doing it. He didn't say anything about it, though.

"You're an idiot," Michael exhales and he's not going to forget anything that Kyle's said but there's no point in pushing the topics either because they're not ones that help either of them.

"But not the best method to get to know each other probably."

Are they really learning much about each other this way? Fucking would have been less frustrating and probably just as productive. Michael doesn't say it out loud, though.

Kyle catches his lower lip between his teeth, biting down hard. In truth, he's fed up and he's just about done with everything at the moment. He isn't sure what he's not doing right, or should be doing, and he's had too much alcohol to not regret everything he's just said.

"If your best method is calling me an idiot and expecting to blow you or some shit, I can start hiking back now," he says, shaking his head as he shifts both arms behind him, leaning back on them and staring up at the sky.

"All you've had to say all along is you just want it physical and ... Hell, maybe you did and I just wasn't listening. My bad," he says, and hating that it bothers him because he would want more, but he can't force that either.

Michael isn’t exactly expecting that extreme or a reaction from Kyle. It felt like his words had been taken far more seriously than they’d been said which he guessed is his fault. It’s not like they know how to talk to one another. He wouldn’t say so but he missed the others arm where it had been the contact lessened by Kyle’s shift.

And it’d be easy to just let Kyle think he’s right, it’s a safer option. After all, it’s only a matter of time isn’t it?

“If that’s what you’re taking away from this then you really are a fucking idiot,” he mutters and works his jaw for a long moment. “You keep saying shit and then wanting me to forget it. You wanna talk about all this shit that isn’t you and I’m supposed to get to know you? But I’m the one that just wants something physical, maybe you just want a therapist. Fuck you, Valenti.”

"I told you to forget it because I'm laying shit on you that you don't need to deal with. It's my bullshit family drama to work through and I felt bad for rambling on about it. Hence the forget about it because you shouldn't have to listen to me bitch."

His tones are sharp, as brittle as he feels.

"But if this is just going to be me trying even if I'm getting it wrong and you constantly calling me names, then I don't know what else I'm supposed to do because I really don't have the emotional strength right now for this."

He's coping with family and the aftermath of Jesse, and what the hell he's even doing with Jesse because he can't keep him in a coma forever, and waiting for this to fall apart and to be single again before he was even not actually single with Manes, and the constant turmoil because after Caulfield before things went to Hell and the cabin and now this, he just isn't sure what to do anymore.

Michael rolls his eyes and the anger and frustration with Kyle just builds and kicks out his foot with a telekinetic blast that sends dirt and small rocks flying off and doesn't really do anything to soothe it but at least he won't blow up at Kyle verbally.

"Nothing I fucking say is going to be the right thing. It never is."

He never has the right thing to say to Alex either. To Max. To Isobel. Maria. It's not like things are great for him, his world had come apart at Caulfield and then hadn't stopped. He'd finally found his family only to have to leave his mom to be bombed to oblivion while he watched and did nothing to save her or any of them. That feeling he'd felt when they first got close to the prison hadn't quite gone away. And then everything that had happened with Max and his hand. It's not like he could even explain why that healing was such a trauma but everyone saw it as a good thing.

But he hadn't minded hearing about Kyle's problems but it had been frustrating when it seems Kyle just wants to sit in the feelings without doing anything about them. He didn't need Kyle to agree with his ideas but it pissed him off that he should dismiss an entire conversation they'd had.

"I take you to one of the most important places to me on this planet and you tell me forget the entire conversation we had because I don't know, I guess you didn't get what you wanted from me so you just want to act like you made a mistake talking to me. You aren't trying to get to know me, Kyle and you're blaming me. So yeah, I think you're being an idiot. And you're completely ignoring the parts of what I said that mattered. I'm trying to tell you I don't want something just physical and you're getting upset because I called you an idiot because you didn't catch on but then again you'd have to get your head out of your ass and think about anything I've actually said or done to realize that."

Michael jumps off the tailgate and maybe he should have let off a few more telekinetic blasts because that still wasn't the best way to say anything. Then again no one had ever accused Michael of being a good communicator.

"I'll drive you home or whatever."

Because there's no way that's not what Kyle wants.

Kyle rolls his eyes at the display, some part of him knowing he should be concerned all things considered but it's still Michael Guerin even if he technically has the ability to literally take Kyle apart with his mind.

"Stop comparing me to everyone else. I just don't fucking know what you want, but I want to try. So instead of just flying off the damn handle, talk to me instead of making me feel like I'm fucking beneath even your contempt."

Because he gets it. He's human. He's not one of them. He's a doctor and he technically has the knowledge to destroy Michael and his whole family. But he hasn't, and he won't.

"I told you to forget it because it's not your place to deal with the horrible things my father did to your family and me whining about it, Guerin. I'm bitching about a man that has hurt you and your family and you know what? I do want you to forget it, because the last thing I want is for you to look at me and see him and all he's done."

His words crack, hating how emotional he feels over this. Not just about his father but about the fact that they can't seem to spend time together without fighting.

"And you can think I'm idiot. I don't fucking care," he says, knowing he's lying. "But I refuse to let the fact that he took me to games and camping and all outweigh that in the end, he was a horrible person. He never should have died like he did but that doesn't negate the truth either. But I'm not blaming you, Michael. I'm blaming myself."

For letting himself fall in love with someone who is in love with another. For letting himself think he could be forgiven for the past, for his family. For thinking he had any clue how to make this work.

"But you haven't told me anything, Michael. You've snapped, and you've grumped at me, and you've made me feel like I'm fucking six years old again and can't do a goddamn thing right but don't pretend as if you've talked to me because you haven't. At me, sure, but don't pretend you've even given me anything but apparently cryptic clues that prove to you I'm an idiot because I haven't picked up on them."

Kyle slides off the tailgate, turning to face Michael. "I think I'm going to stay here a bit longer. I'm not ready to go back. And..." He pauses, figuring he's going to say the wrong thing again but being honest. "I hope you don't leave, and it's not because I worry about you driving like this, which I do," he says, and he can't help the truth. The thought of Michael racing out of there as angry as he is terrifies the doctor in him that has done one too many ER rounds. "But because in the end, we both care about the same person and he deserves us trying again."

Because there's little Kyle wouldn't do for Alex, not after all he's put him through and all he's come to care for him.

Michael could keep arguing because there's something Kyle is missing in what Michael had been trying to get across about his dad. But Kyle was stuck in his way on it so it didn't matter. Michael knew when to give up on a battle if he really didn't want to fight it and he really didn't want to fight this one. He didn't want to fight with Kyle at all.

But he does have to say one thing.

"I don't see what he did when I look at you," and maybe that's why he doesn't want Kyle to forget about the fact that his father loved him and that mattered. Even with everything else it still mattered and he wasn't the same as Jesse Manes. But none of them were simply their father's sons -- or maybe Michael was but who's going to know? "You shouldn't blame yourself for any of it. That's like saying Alex should blame himself. So don't be a fucking hypocrite because you know what you'd say to Alex if he came at you with this bullshit."

The feeling that he can't say anything right really doesn't dissipate the more Kyle talks. He sighs as he leans on the side of the truck, his arms propped on it as he stares at Kyle. It's not like he's going to just drive off without Kyle.

"Ask me a question that's not about relationship status or what I want from this."

"I do." He says it quickly, so fast, and he knows he should stop but he can't. "I think about what he did every time I see you, or Isobel, and every time I see another sign of what has happened in this town because off him and Jesse Manes."

He looks down and away, shifting as he shoves his hands in his pockets, hugging his arms close to his sides, drawing a deep breath and sighing out as he looks at Michael once, his expression so drawn and showing the pain and sadness he keeps trying to hide.

"I don't blame myself for what he did. I fear becoming him. I'm scared to death of letting myself get caught up in all the wrong things. Not like I haven't done it once, right?"

And he is scared he can't swear he won't again.

"And I'm good for do as I say not as I do, Michael," he adds softly. "Because hypocrite is apparently in my DNA." He's been one. His father. Hell, even his mom when he's called her out on her beliefs about the Ortecho's.

"Oh great, course soon as you ask like that, I can't think of anything," he says, smiling thought to soften the words, trying to at least make himself relax. Which isn't easy when he's positive everything he says will be looked down on and seen as idiotic. "Tell me about this place," he says softly. "About how you feel out here."

Maybe it does sound stupid but he said it's important to him, so he wants to know.

Micahel sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair and he can't help but find that a bit infuriating and he doesn't know why. But there's no point in arguing or telling Kyle that he doesn't need to worry about shit like that. People who worry about it aren't the people who become the monsters. It's the ones who never stop to consider they could.

"Then do better and stop being a fucking hypocrite," Michael settles on it being the only thing he'll say to that matter. He taps his fist lightly on the truck's bed's frame.

It's a bit hard to shift away from the anger but he'll do it. He has to. He shifts and moves to grab the bottle of alcohol again taking a long drink from it.

"When I ended up back in Roswell, this became my spot. On the really bad nights, I'd come here. Something felt... connected here and I guess it's kind of stupid but I'd look up at the sky and just wait for someone to come for me." Michael lifts a shoulder. "Sometimes it made me feel less alone, imagining someone was out there looking..." he furrowed his brow because after the prison well... it's not likely anyone had ever been looking for him after all. "It's the one place I could be that I could hope things would get better."

Before Alex, anyway.

"Another time we'll talk about why I became a hypocrite," he says, being honest about it because if they're actually going to truly get involved in all of this, then eventually all of this has to be talked about. What's the point if they don't share?

But this is about Michael, about this place, not about Kyle getting hard at the thought of kissing his best friend during a game of spin the bottle, and fearing being beaten like Alex was so often.

"It's not stupid, Michael. Not at all," he says softly, sincere though, being honest about how that sounds and how he feels about it. "It makes sense you would come back to this place, and you don't know there isn't someone out there," he points out. "You were once upon a time. There could be others."

He cants his head back, looking up at the sky. "I mean, let's be honest, Michael. You're the literally proof about why there could have been others out there and could be coming for you."

They have no idea how long it took Michael and his people to get to Earth, after all, and how long it might take others to get there.

Michael shrugs. They could talk about it but he'd be settled on the idea that just because you were once a hypocrite doesn't mean you have to stay one but he lets it go for now.

"If my mom was in Caulfield... I don't really think there was more family out there looking for me," Michael says and he's not trying to be negative but it's just what he believes. If he had any other family they were in that prison when it got blown up too. They were gone. Maybe there were other aliens out there like him, Max and Isobel but that didn't mean they were family in the same way, in the way he'd been wishing for when he was younger.

"It's not the same, but it's fine," Michael shrugged. He knew that because Alex knew Kyle knows that he has part of the ship that crashed that he'd been trying to rebuild it so he could go out searching. But honestly, between Alex... and knowing his mother had died in that prison there feels less and less reason to try. He still felt out of place and like he didn't really belong here but he's not sure he'd belong any better out there either.

"It still feels right to be out here, though." It still feels close to home or something or what he guesses is home since he's never really had one of those to know what it should feel like.

One day Kyle will forgive himself for what he did to Alex. One day. He's pretty sure that won't be any time soon, though the way things have been going he's getting closer to it. He doubts he'll ever let it go through. Forgetting means risking doing it again, in letting his fears control him and Kyle plans to never let that happen again. No matter how much madness he throws himself into trying to prove he won't let fear control him.

Even if he has felt the trickling of it during this talk. Of what he would do to keep the relationships he has and how much he doesn't want to lose this. Not just with Alex, but with Michael as well.

There's a part of Kyle then that wants to argue there could be others, even distant family, but given how little he wants to have with any family besides his mom after everything that's happened, he figures that isn't the right answer either.

"It doesn't have to be fine, but I can understand that." He can't bring himself to talk about accepting he can still love his dad as much as he hates what he did, so how can he push Michael to cope with dealing with so much worse.

"Thank you for bringing me out here. For sharing this with me."

Michael's quiet for a while and he shrugs.

"You wanted to know me, this was just a good place to start," he says. He feels exhausted somehow, this whole conversation starting at the bar and now here just weighty.

"I'm trying, Kyle."

He's trying to make it work too.