drmcsexy | For thenewnormal, post 1x13

Alex checked his watch for what felt like the tenth time that morning. Or...it probably qualified as afternoon by now. He wasn't sure whether he should be worried for Michael because something had clearly been wrong or upset that he had apparently forgotten that he was supposed to meet so they could talk. He knew he wasn't a part of whatever was going on with them, but it was the first time he'd wished he was.

Hope filled him when his cell phone went off and his heart clenched a little when he saw the name. Kyle could be calling him for any number of reasons, but he couldn't help but consider that Kyle was a doctor.

"Is everyone all right?" were his first words after answering the call. He didn't even know if Max or Isobel knew that he knew. They might not give him a straight answer if he went up to them and asked what had happened last night. They might not, but Kyle would. If he knew. Alex's frame of reference began and ended with his father and the little information Michael had given him before Alex had walked away again. Kyle had been the one working on a cure with Liz and directly treating Isobel.

Glancing back, making sure no one was coming up behind him and might hear this talk. She knows that eventually someone was going to contact the family, and maybe someone would even call Alex, but he needs him to hear the truth.

Wincing at that tone, the question that comes with it, and still trying to find his words on this. And then speaking before he truly thinks.

"As far as I know, everyone you care about," he says, figuring that isn't lying. "Listen. We need to talk in person about this," he says. "But Jesse Manes is now a patient under my care. He's in a coma," he says, not sure how Alex is going to handle this but needing him to know two things. That Jesse was back, and that Kyle has him detained in one way or another. "Where are you? I can meet you somewhere."

Alex took a deep breath. His father. Back in town. He felt more out of the loop now than ever and he was tired of it. He glanced around and thought about leaving Michael a note, but figured that if he’d cared about talking to Alex, he would have sent a text. Called. Or maybe actually showed up.

“I’m at the junkyard. But I guess there’s no point in staying here. Why don’t we meet at the bunker? Unless this is a conversation that requires a noon beer.”

Because he didn’t know how or why his father would be in a coma. But he didn’t think he was going to like whatever answer that Kyle had to give him.

"You're at... if I'm interrupting anything, I can get somewhere and just do this on the phone," he offers, and maybe it shows he's learned a little, willing to try and be considerate. And not give him shit. Not that Alex sounds as if it's all okay but again, that might be an in person talk.

"Let's start with the bunker, but that beer may be needed," he admits, sounding about as worn as he feels. "I know it's not just for me but it's been one helluva night," he says, assuming Alex knows more about what's gone down, just the bits of it that Kyle knows, if nothing else.

"But yeah. Heading for the bunker, and if you can get away from things, I'll give you all the details. And then maybe get that beer after." He really didn't want to do this in public, that was for damn sure.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Alex said with a sigh. He wished that Kyle were. He stood up, heading for his car. He took a last glance back at the trailer and then got in and went to the bunker.

He thought about what little he’d seen from Michael last night. After working through a few loose ends from things they’d found yesterday, he’d headed over to Michael’s trailer to see how he was doing. When he wasn’t there, he’d let himself in, figuring Michael had gone to talk to Max or Isobel and would be back sooner or later.

Instead, when he’d come in, he’d seemed almost desperate. There’d been all that blood that Michael had said wasn’t his. And then he’d been even more desperate to get out. Not away from Alex, it seemed, but almost as if he’d received a phone call and had to go. He rubbed at his eyes and hit the accelerator. Maybe Kyle would have answers.

Kyle frowns, glancing at his phone but then figuring that he is better off asking him in person than trying to do this over the phone. "Okay. See you then."

The bunker is becoming like a second home to him, which given all his time at the hospital he really isn't actually seeing his home. Instead he's here, trying to go through these files as if he's going to find something that could help. He's not even sure help with what but he's trying.

Now though he knows. He needs to find what they can use against Jesse Manes.

Nothing has been cleaned up from earlier, including Manes' gun on the table, where Kyle is sitting, staring at it, his new vest with the hole in the covering laying next to it.

Alex looked like hell. Part of it was that he hadn’t actually slept last night and part of it was that he was worried about Michael, even though Kyle had said that no one he cared about was hurt. A lot of his trust in that would depend on whether he knew if Michael could be hurt or not.

He froze when he walked inside. He looked like hell, but Kyle looked worse. And then he noticed the gun and the vest.

“What happened?” he asked, quickly looking Kyle over for signs he was hurt. Had Kyle actually shot his father? He probably should have been upset if the answer were yes, but he found himself almost hoping he was out of the picture permanently.

"I'm fine. Physically." Which is the truth. He is fine that way. He won't promise that he's okay in any other way. Not yet. Not for a while.

He sighs, poking his finger at the vest. "I noticed... I got paranoid,' he admits, looking away, not sure he can meet Alex's gaze during this. "I knew he was following me. I knew. And I went to buy a gun," he says, unable to keep looking away, but his gaze doesn't settle on Alex, not as he talks. "I didn't want to die, but... I didn't become a doctor to hurt people."

He's done enough of that in his life. He's seen what it can do and he couldn't.

"He came here. He shot me." With that he pokes his finger in the hole in the vest. The cover was torn but not the kevlar. "Okay I guess I'm not entirely fine," he says, moving to tug his shirt down, showing where it's starting to bruise.

He can't look away then, meeting Alex's gaze. "You're the only one that will know this. I injected him with a very large dose of barbiturates. I induced a coma and then admitted him as my patient. I couldn't kill him, but I couldn't leave him out there killing whoever he sees as a threat. Bad enough Liz was stabbed tonight by Noah and I still don't know what is happening with Isobel and Max. Liz went looking for them."

Alex closed his eyes. At least he could sort of explain Michael and the others keeping him out of what was going on last night. Michael had told him what was going on with him; he hadn’t shared the details with what was going on with the rest of them. And maybe he would have, but Alex had walked away after finding that console.

But Kyle and Cameron had been the ones to fill him in on current events. Hell, he’d been there when Kyle had found out who was really responsible for his dad’s death and it was that truth that had shaken a few things clear in him.

He rubbed at his eyes and then snapped them open when Kyle said that his father had actually shot Kyle. He was moving before he knew it, reaching over and pressing his hand against the bruise. “You didn’t break anything, did you?” Alex had worn enough of those vests to know that they usually stopped what they needed to, but you might have to suffer a bruised or even broken rib depending.

But then Kyle continued, talking about Noah and how Liz had been stabbed and Alex couldn’t help but notice the one name missing in that disturbing tableau. He stopped pressing against Kyle’s chest and asked quietly, “Michael was supposed to meet me this morning. You haven’t heard from him, have you?”

Maybe he should have been more upset by that, but he’d been okay with his father actually being shot. That Kyle had found a way to stop him while still keeping that part of his soul? It seemed like Kyle was doing better than Alex was in terms of his father.

He knows he should have told Alex sooner but it felt... wrong. Twisted even. Knowing your father is an evil wannabe mastermind and your former friend turned maybe friend again telling you he's got his hackles up he might be stalking him is not the same thing. Now though he has no choice, and he needs him to know what's going on. At least what Kyle knows.

Though he expects Alex's concern, that touch catches him off guard. Not movie, barely even breathing though, if he's honest, he's been kind of shallow and short on the breathing thing since his panic attack at the gun shop.

"I... I don't think so. Honestly? Kind of just ignored the pain and figured nothing was punctured and I had too much to worry about instead," he admits, offering a kind of crooked, hollow smile and a shrug. "He really just... guess I should be lucky he doesn't believe in head shots," he says with laugh that matches that smile. Shock and panic are lovely things though.

"I went to buy a gun, Alex. I... You would not even believe that he was just going to give me one. No identification even and..." Part of what bothered him so much was that. It shouldn't have been that easy. It never should be that easy to kill another human being, or in the case of their life. Any being.

He shakes his head, frowning heavily at that, looking down again. Jesus Christ. He couldn't imagine the state Alex would be in if something happened to Guerin.

"I've only seen Liz. Noah jumped her at the diner, and luckily missed anything vital. She had me come do some really fun mending using her mother's sewing kit and a bottle. For her, not me," he says, though right now the way his hands are balled up, still in his lap, they may be shaking as well. He's trying hard to hold it all together though. He'd done what he had to. That's what matters. "She wouldn't go to the hospital. Said it was so they wouldn't ask questions about how but..." But he knew better. He knew why she wouldn't go, and that was only part of the reason he did what he did for her.

"Do you want to go look for him? See if we can find any of them?"

“I’m active military in the state of New Mexico,” Alex replied dryly. “Of course I’d believe.” He continued pressing at Kyle’s chest. “Things don’t have to just be punctured to be a problem, Kyle. You might not be familiar with these kinds of wounds, but bruised or broken bones can be a part of it.” Depending on the caliber of the weapon. And yes, he was very lucky that his father had decided not to go for the head shot.

A part of him very much wanted to hurt his father more than he had the day Alex had broke in here. He’d killed Jim Valenti. Maybe his hadn’t been the hands who’d given the former Sheriff the tumor, but could you really blame the person who’d done it? He’d spent decades in captivity having god knew what happen to them and how was he supposed to know that Valenti was one of the good guys? And now his father had tried to kill Kyle.

“If he’s working for Dad, it’s possible that Flint will still be out there.” He wanted to believe that his brother wasn’t completely irredeemable. He’d warned them to get out, after all. Not that it hadn’t been obvious pretty quickly, but he could have done so much worse. His dad, well, his dad would have left at least two of them in there and he wasn’t so sure he was safe anymore. “And who knows how many more of my brothers.”

He let Kyle go once he was satisfied that he probably didn’t have anything major wrong with him. He wasn’t screaming in pain, although he’d have a nice bruise for his trouble. Instead, he leaned back against the table and tried to take all of this in. He wanted to help. He needed to help because he was apparently as much in this as anyone. Maybe he was veering from the path his father had set out from him, but he was still cleaning up his father’s messes. Still felt responsible for helping to stop him. And it’d been his father who’d cleaned up after every murder Noah had committed without doing the due diligence to figure out who was responsible. The one person he might have been justified to keep a prisoner and he hid the evidence that might have helped catch him.

And Michael. God, he didn’t want to think about the blood he’d seen on Michael. He’d said it wasn’t his. Had it been Liz? Had he been trying to help her before running off in the same kind of frenzy he’d run from Alex?

So his answer to Kyle was yes. Yes, he did want to go track Michael down and make sure he was okay. But he already had a friend to worry about first and he could only deal with one thing at a time.

He shifted again and leaned forward enough to put a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.

“How are you doing with all of this? It’s been a pretty crazy 24 hours.” This time yesterday, they’d been planning on going out to look at some anomalous heat signatures, never knowing that what they found would change everything.

"Wait, what? There's a half dozen ways your ribs could be injured that can leave you needing more in depth medical care?" He looks up at Alex with wide eyes, blinking at him innocently. "Shit, my medical degree left that off," he says, smiling at him. For a moment, the briefest of touches, he lifts his hand and touches the back of Alex's hand where it rests on his chest. "I'll have them take x-rays later, but I was too busy dealing with Jesse, and ... Shit, how has it even only been a day."

Saying it like that, making himself think about the fact that so much of his life has gone entirely upside down in a day and he's not sure how to handle it, except to keep pushing through and do what has to be done.

"Guess it's a good thing my only full time patient right now is in a coma," he says, realizing as he felt his hand against Alex's that maybe he isn't handling things as well as he things. Showing it by holding his hand out, noticing the tremor through his hand that belied more than his words or tone did.

Folding his hand back into a fist, dropping it to his lap as if that hides it all.

"I should be asking you that," he says, deflecting as best he can as he sits up in his seat more, fixing Alex with a serious look, arching a brow. "If you need to go look for anyone, try and find them, I understand that. Okay? It was good of you to come hear this face to face," he says, trying to pull together a semblance of the man he had been a couple of weeks before. Hell, even forty-eight hours before. Before Liz had told him about aliens, and before he'd had to cope with a patient that drank acetone for pain, and had killed a friend of theirs and yet hadn't been responsible.

Forty-eight hours ago when he hadn't known about aliens kept as test rats, killed because of their attempts to rescue them, or had witnessed the video of his father's murder. When he hadn't sewn up his ex-girlfriend who he'd just been trying to rebond with as friends. When he hadn't been shot, an intended murder victim. When life had been normal. Except, he knows, this is his normal now. There is now going back.

He shifts though without thinking towards Alex, towards that touch. Much as they had fought in high school, when Kyle had been a miserable asshole to Alex, there had been a time when they had been close, when if he'd been asked to name his best friend, he would have said Alex Manes, and part of him has never forgotten that.

Leave it to Kyle to actually give Alex a little bit of a chuckle during all of this. At least an internal chuckle. Outwardly, he merely shook his head at Kyle’s comment. “You doctor, me soldier,” he reminded Kyle. “I’m the one who’s actually been hit through a vest, so I know what’s likely to happen. Somehow I don’t think you get a lot of flak vest injuries in the sleepy town of Roswell. At least I hope not.” Sure, there were always those kids dumb enough to play with guns in the middle of the desert, but those were actual bullet wounds.

“You told me my father was in a coma under your care,” Alex reminded him. “When yesterday we blew up one of his research facilities.” Not intentionally, never intentionally when there’d been that many people there. But they’d blown it up nonetheless. “There was no way I wasn’t coming to find out what happened.”

He took a breath. “I should. If only because there was blood on Michael’s shirt the last time I saw him.” He took one of Kyle’s hands in his. “But I don’t think you should be driving anywhere.” His hands were still shaky and that was no wonder. Kyle hadn’t been through any of the training or situations that Alex had. It wasn’t any wonder he wasn’t reacting well to any of this. He was having to learn very literally on the battlefield. He squeezed Kyle’s hand and let go.

“Why don’t you come with me? You can give Liz a call on the way and find out if she needs any more advanced care than she got when you were playing field medic.” And meanwhile, Alex would have to start contemplating whether they were going to need actual medical supplies on hand if no one was actually going to get proper medical care. His basement was only stocked for someone going through recovery and everything in it was years out of date.

"I know, Tarzan," he says, smiling though despite the mental exhaustion and the nerves that still felt frazzled and worn. "I would have to guess I'm our first," he says with a snort. "Though I'm kind of surprised I could even buy one. I mean... hell it cost me more than the gun would have," he admits, poking at it with a finger as if it's a living, poisonous thing even if it had saved his life.

"I should have... I couldn't think of a better way to say it,' he admits. "Eventually they'll contact the rest of the family, and I needed you to know what happened." He sighs, rubbing at his temple, realizing he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, the last thing he'd had to drink. It felt like a year since he'd pulled up at the junkyard to meet up with Alex and Guerin.

He shifts, looking away again. "I keep thinking about all of those people," he says. Not aliens. Not different. People. They had been people. "And how we got them..." He shakes his head, knowing if he goes down this road he'll never stop, the facade will crack and he isn't sure he'll be able to stop from breaking if he let's the cracks start to grow.

His hand still shakes against Alex's but he's thankful for that secure anchor in that moment, his fingers curling against Alex's. "If... if this is my life now, I really need to think about redoing my guest room," he murmurs, almost tracking the same place Alex's thoughts are when he mentions calling Liz. "I get in trouble with admin sometimes because we get these patients in the emergency room, right?" He looks at Alex, almost smiling as he talks about this. "And they'll start to get cagey about insurance and all, so I go out and talk to them. Usually it's sick kids and I can't... I just can't think about what would happen if their parents got picked up, if these kids got sent to those camps," he says, expression hardening. "We have a sample closet and I'm forever raiding it for them, before they're registered and expecting to have insurance. My mom would have my ass if she knew," he says, smiling then though it's watery as his is gaze.

"I'd... I'd like to tag along,' he says, his hand still holding Alex's, more or less. "I need to get her on antibiotics if nothing else. So yeah, that's good. I need..." He looks around. "Maybe I shouldn't just stay here, entirely not watching that video of my dad."

Alex sucked in a shaky breath. Kyle hadn’t been there. He didn’t know what Alex knew about the people in the cells. Or at least about the person. Michael’s mother. And they, in their rush to find answers, had gotten her killed. He nodded. “Yeah. Me too.” He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget all the ways he’d failed Michael over the years and this was just the latest example. And his brother. His brother hadn’t even seemed to care.

So close to those kind of thoughts, the smile he shot Kyle when he was talking about samples and lack of insurance was feeble, but it was there. “You’re a good guy, Kyle. After you got over your asshole phase.” And most of the time that dickishness had been pointed towards him. He might not have had much of a backbone back then, but he’d used most of it to stand up to Kyle.

“Yeah, no brooding over that. Especially when you have my dad in the hospital. But you know, if you give me ten minutes with one of the computers, I can make sure that I’m listed as having power of attorney. It won’t last forever, but it might hold off my brothers for a little while. Enough for us to regroup and figure out what else he might have in place.”

He squeezed Kyle’s hand before letting go. “Come on. Let’s go try to figure out what’s going on.”

All Kyle knew, and couldn't get out of his head, is that so many people died the day they decided to go there after being kept for so many decades. He couldn't get it out of his head, even if it's background noise sometimes to the sound of a gun in that small space, wondering how long he might flinch at loud sounds thinking about it. Kyle promised to save lives, and he's accepted a lot in trying to do that. He hadn't shot Jesse Manes, but he had been part of whatever happened in that prison. Even if he doesn't know what happened in those moments. He just keeps seeing faces. Even the one that had caused his dad's tumors, but not as the enemy. Not now.

"Yeah well, a lot changed after graduation." He'd left Roswell. He'd left behind the guys that had encouraged him at his worse. He'd left behind Alex, and those thoughts he had buried deep in his psyche so many years before. "I want to be this guy," he says, meaning it. In everything, and especially with Alex. Alex who was off limits and in love and so whatever all of that had been, it didn't matter.

"Do what you need to," he says with a nod. "Thankfully I'm the one they would consult on about his sudden coma without a cause, so I can push things back with a series of useless tests so no one will check his levels but me," he notes. "I just... I don't think I can keep him like that forever but we have time."

He nods as he says it, realizing his hand feels cold then, almost tingling and he forces himself to shake it off as he stands. "Let's go."

Alex led the way to his car, only hesitating once they were both inside and he’d started the engine. Just because he wanted to find Michael didn’t mean he’d know where to find him. There were two or three options he could think of before he’d start running out of places he knew Michael frequented. He’d tried the junkyard, where they’d planned to meet. There was Max or Isobel’s or there was the Wild Pony. It was still a little early for Maria to be open even to get things set up.

“I’m going to try Max and Isobel’s first,” he told Kyle. “Tell Liz that I think she’s an idiot for not going in to get proper care, but that I love her anyway and I’m glad she’s safe.”

He put the car into gear and headed toward Max’s. If they didn’t find Michael by the time they got around to the Wild Pony, Alex would at least ask Maria for a drink and the intervening distance would give him an excuse for why he’d decided to start day drinking. He hadn’t had to use an excuse to explain away any behavior yet, but if things kept going like they were, he was going to have to start and it was always a difficult proposition, lying to Maria.

"Hey, I am pretty damn proper care. In the right circumstances." Though he knows what Alex meant. Hell, he felt the same way, and it's killing him that he knows he isn't going to shy away from these things but run towards them. He's got a code now, he guesses, and he knows where it's leading him.

Settling in, Kyle got out his phone and started texting with Liz. "She's says she's not an idiot," he says between texts. "And that she loves you too." He pauses, texting more, considering the area around them while waiting. "Huh. She hasn't heard from Max since early this morning, like before dawn, and is heading out to look for him herself. She says she thinks Noah's dead though," he says, glancing at Alex. "Because she says she can't feel him anymore, and the handprint he left on her is gone."

He falls silent, considering that, not liking any of it. "She'd know if Max was gone, wouldn't she?"

Alex’s fist curled around the wheel and his knuckles briefly went white. There was so much that he didn’t know and he’d thought it was okay and he would learn in time, but it was affecting all the people he cared about now. Noah dead. A handprint that he hadn’t known Liz had had. He wanted to get angry but took a deep breath instead and reminded himself that Michael had promised they’d talk. Michael, who was nowhere to be found.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know how it works.”

He took another breath and his grip on the wheel relaxed. “Let her know that we’re checking Max’s and Isobel’s. We’ll keep a lookout for Max if she keeps one for Michael.”

He considered that maybe what they needed to do was all sit down together and talk. They’d learned a lot when it had just been him, Kyle, and Cameron.

So much of this is so far over Kyle's pay grade and he's not sure how to handle most of this. He just knows that he's not backing down from this, not leaving any of them on their own to handle this. Not Alex or Liz, not the alien family they've known most of their lives. It's crazy and all of it leaves his head spinning half the time as he leads this kind of double life but both come down to the same thing. Saving lives.

"Got it," he murmurs softly, texting Liz... and then also sending out a couple of other texts as well. One to his mother, asking if she had picked up Guerin or seen Max that morning. Another was sent to a nurse he knows, checking with her about anyone brought in overnight fitting the description of any of those they were looking for.

"Okay, Liz says she'll let us know when she knows something." Not if. He doesn't buy if. Eventually she'll know something.

He glances sidelong at Alex, considering his profile for a long time. "It's going to be okay, you know."

Alex attempted a smile. If you’d have told him when he first came back to town that he’d actually be glad that Kyle was trying to look after him…okay, it might not have sounded as crazy to him as it could have. They’d been friends, once. But it would have still sounded a bit crazy. They hadn’t exactly ended things on the best note, not with him being the reason that Kyle and Liz broke up. Or at least that’s how the guy Kyle had been probably would have seen it.

“Yeah, Michael will be fine and you said Noah is gone and my father is in a holding pattern for the time being.” He took another deep breath. “The only ones likely to come after us at the moment are my brothers.” Because he was assuming that if one of them was working for his father, they all were. Keeping it in the family and everything. And he wasn’t at all bitter that his father had decided to keep this from him. Maybe he’d known that Alex never would have agreed with him.

He pulled up to Max’s and glanced at Kyle. “I’ll be right back.”

He did a brief sweep of the area, noting the glass and the blood. Something had gone down here and it was probably where they’d been holding Noah. He checked inside, but no one was home, so he headed back to the car.

“All right. Isobel’s next. And then we’ll see if Maria’s seen him.”

"I need to figure out what I'm doing about Jesse with the family," he points out, speaking softly. This is all so weird to him, and he has no idea what this means or what he should feel, but doing the right thing is what matters. The legal way, the way that his career and family has told him to do things, it doesn't work. It has to be about what's right and wrong, and he knows that line. "Flint knows not to trust me though, and even with you'll have power of attorney... Do we let them see him?"

He waits in the car, texting with Liz. Thinking about other things as well.

"I need your honest opinion, Alex." He's looking out the window, not looking at Alex. "Knowing what you know, and without me literally have what I would diagnosis as a panic attack, should I be armed when dealing with your brothers?"

He's military. He knows his siblings. Kyle trusts him to be honest with him.

"And I would just end up shooting myself is a legit answer."

Edited 2019-05-04 01:49 (UTC)

Alex groaned softly and started the car, heading them towards Isobel’s. “Tell Liz that there’s nobody at Max’s,” he said to give him time to stall. You’d think he’d have known his brothers, but when was the last time they’d all been together as a family? When had they ever been a family? He’d thought he’d known his father’s line before he crossed it with Michael. And then he thought he knew that line only to find out that there was pretty much nothing he wouldn’t do. He had no idea if that attitude was one his brothers had adopted or whether it was just another assignment to them. Flint didn’t seem to have cared that so many people had died.

“Call me. If you see any of my brothers, call me.” Maybe he should be telling Kyle to call Max, Michael, or Isabel, but these were his brothers. His family. If anyone was going to be dealing with them, making sure they couldn’t hurt anyone else, it was him. That said, he also didn’t want Kyle to be in the crossfire. They were starting to actually be friends again, good friends, like it had been before, and he wasn’t going to let his family screw up another relationship.

“And you probably would end up shooting yourself, so if you ever feel the need for lessons, let me know.” Especially if their lives continued in the path they seemed to be going down.

He nods, settling back in the car and giving her that depressing update that isn't likely to make her feel any better, but that's one thing that's true in all of this. Communication needs to happen, and not just between a couple of people. They're all in this together, and unless they work at keeping each other in the loop, they're going to all crash and burn.

"Your name's on the paperwork," he says with a nod. "You got it." Because while he'll hold his own and refuse them entry based on medical reasons, he also knows that at least one of them he can't trust to play nice, fair, or legally, and that's one too many out of three as it is.

"Kind of why I'm asking," he says softly, looking down at his phone though there's not been a message, just not looking at Alex. "It's stupid, I know, to even think about it. I realized that before, but..." But before he hadn't actually been shot and had only thought maybe the threat would be worth it. Now he knows it wouldn't be worth it just to threaten, and he'd been shot. Just because he isn't dead doesn't change that.

"I'm thinking later, after we find your errant would be boyfriend and his family, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. I mean... I just feel I should have one," he says, speaking casually but he's just taken all of this in stride, more or less, and yet he's not sure any of it is healthy. Not to mention he's sure the moment he has a drink, and he's definitely going to have a drink, he's going to crack.

"If you'd rather, I'm sure we can find a few non-lethal methods you could use to defend yourself." There were always tasers for long distance and other ways to defend yourself in closer combat. After managing to bring down his brother, his confidence in that arena had pretty much skyrocketed. He'd been working on his physical therapy the last few months and now he'd tested himself in battle, so to speak.

"He's not my boyfriend," Alex added. He wasn't sure he wanted to live without Michael and Michael had promised him that they'd talk, but they were barely even friends, such as that went. He knew so little about Michael, although he'd learned a bit after he'd confronted Michael about being who and what he was.

"Look," he said, glancing over at Kyle. "I'm sorry Guerin was an ass to you yesterday. He doesn't get it." All he knew about Kyle and Alex was that Kyle had made Alex's life hell in high school. He didn't know the history behind that or even that they'd been friends once.

"Otherwise I'd suggest we all grab a couple of bottles and head out to the middle of nowhere somewhere."

"Yeah the bruise I'm sporting wasn't nonlethal," he points out, rubbing at his chest with a sigh as he leans back in the seat, closing his eyes. "That might be best though," he admits, feeling his heart starting to race when he thought about it once more, about the idea of holding that gun in that moment. He rubs his hand at his thigh along the nap of his jeans as if he can rub away the feeling of it.

It's been too much in such a short time and he's not sure how he's going to hold himself together the moment he has a second to stop and actually think. Until then though, he can just focus on here and now.

"Hence would be," he says softly, making himself open his eyes and staring out the window rather than looking at Alex. Though he laughs at that, the sound more bitter than he means it to be. "Oh he gets it," he says with a snort. "He gets that he's jealous as all hell because we're becoming friends again. You should have seen his face when I told him we'd been working on the code together." Barely turning his head then, stealing a glance at Alex from the corner of his eye.

"Somewhere he's gotten it in his head that he's got something to fear from me, as if that's somewhere you'd go,' he says, shaking his head. "He'll get over it. Just like he'll get over the fact that I was a monster to you in high school and then we can have those drinks and nothing to worry about."

It's easy to talk about, but he's not sure how much it would be in practice. Michael likely wouldn't forgive Kyle, and maybe he can sense Kyle's remembering what had happened to turn Kyle as he had. The crush that had terrified him so badly back then.

"You weren't a monster," Alex said absently. "The monster was who shattered Michael's hand and you were never that." There'd been words that hurt and a few shoves on both sides, but Kyle had never been particularly violent. And that was the problem he was having with shooting a gun. Alex could sense if not see the way his hand would be shaking. Give the man an open wound and he was a professional, but no one should have to deal with his father without a significant amount of training.

He frowned as he thought about it. Was Guerin really jealous of a friendship? Or had he somehow intuited his childhood crush on Kyle? Not that it would be really hard to figure out. Lots of kids had crushes on their best friend when they were the opposite gender and he'd just happened to prefer his own. And there Kyle was.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll ask him about it when we find him. We were supposed to talk." And now he wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be worried that Michael hadn't come back or angry that he hadn't.

"Do you know that I'd thought about not leaving the Air Force because I thought it would keep me one step ahead of my dad?" He shook his head. "I really should have known better. I've never managed to keep up with him."

He'd only managed to catch his dad flat-footed because his father had never assumed that Alex would have the guts to stand up to him.

"I'm glad you don't see it that way," he says, shifting to lean his head against the window, feeling the stress of the last two days weighing heavy on his shoulders. When Kyle had broken through his high school stupidity and looked back on the horrible things he'd done to his best friend out of fear, he had thought of himself as little more. He hadn't gone to medical school because of it, but he did a lot to try and make things better for people out of his own need to be a better man.

"With Noah on the loose last night, who knows... I mean, he's fine. Okay? Trust me, if anyone is fine in this, it's Guerin. Just..." He sighs. "Who knows if Max or Isobel are. Who knows how far they had to chase him," he says, realizing how horrible what he started to say is. "So it's probably that he couldn't get there to talk to you. So we'll find him, you two will fix things and you won't snap at me when I say he's your boyfriend," he says, smirking crookedly.

"Do you know why you can't keep up with him? Because you're not evil. You're not constantly thinking about six ways to cover your back and to fuck everyone over, because you're a good man, Alex Manes. Your father is a villain. He literally is constantly plotting and planning and working to keep himself ahead of everyone else. So maybe... maybe stop doing shit because of that asshole and start doing things because of you. About damn time you did things for you, Alex. You've deserved it since we were kids, and ... I know I was a kid, so I couldn't do anything to fix it but I'm sorry that I was the one that added on to it."

Edited 2019-05-17 04:40 (UTC)

You're not constantly thinking about six ways to cover your back. . Alex couldn't help but laugh a little at that and it wasn't the sort of happy laugh that was normally out of his mouth.

"That's exactly why I agreed to go into the Air Force," he pointed out. "Because I wanted to do something more than just sit around on my hands whe someone I cared about was in danger. It's what they trained us to do. Sometimes I think it was the only worthwhile thing I came back with."

The memories, the nightmares. He didn't want those. And he didn't want the expectations his father had that Alex would just fall in line like the good little soldier he'd been. A Manes Man. Maybe that was the family curse. He wondered if any of his brothers had broken free of it or whether they were all good little soldiers like Flint.

He sighed. He really didn't want to think about how being an airman had changed him. That was a long, involved conversation that he wasn't even comfortable talking about with a therapist. It certainly wasn't fit conversation during the hunt for the Guerin-Evans's. But you could always trust Kyle to have a witty comment to fall back on, so Alex finished on that.

"Clearly I'm going to have to find something else to grouse about. You always give me something, so I figure it won't be hard."

Kyle stares out the window, thinking about all of them and their reasons for leaving, for staying, the things that drew them back to Roswell. Like they couldn't stay away. Or get away. When he left for college, he never thought he'd come back. It felt like a different lifetime, a different person, when the world made sense, and he knew what he wanted.

Now he hasn't a clue, he just knows that out of all of them, apparently he's got it easier than most of them, and more and more he's feeling he doesn't want to complain, just do what he can for them. It's why he became a doctor, so he can understand Alex's feelings on it. On what he'd hoped to gain.

"You know, I could give you a big long speech about how you can't save everyone, but given how long I cried after the last person I lost on the table, I don't think I've got room to talk about it. All you can do though is try and do your best, and a lot of other pithy comments you'll roll your eyes at," he says, turning his head to look at Alex instead of the desert.

"Well, you could get frustrated and take a shot at me." He pales a little, that turn of phrase suddenly nauseating. "Or punch. Definitely meant punch," he says, muttering softly under his breath at how saying that twisted up his gut. "Or we could drink. A lot. Black out drunk sounds like the best thing in the world right now."

"If we were back in high school, I might have taken you up on that," Alex said, shaking his head. He didn't really want to shoot Kyle now. He'd changed in some indefinable way. Or maybe he'd gone back to being the Kyle Alex had known when they were kids. The one who hadn't yet given in to peer pressure and dumped Alex on his ass.

He slowed to a stop in front of Isobel's. The benefits of living in a small town. They weren't friends, but he still knew where she lived. Of course, the fact that her dad had had her information in his database had helped. And made him feel a little like Big Brother.

"If we don't find anyone...yeah, drinking might be an option."

Except it wouldn't be. He'd want to be out there figuring out what was going on. Because to have everyone disappear all at once? That meant that something was wrong.

"I'll be right back." He slipped out so he could walk over and knock at Isobel's door. When that didn't work, he tried around out back. Nothing. He started cursing under his breath. Michael had been bloody the last time Alex had seen him. He said it hadn't been his, but...

He managed not to punch anything and headed back to the car instead. "We're heading to the Wild Pony. See if Maria's heard from anyone."

"Well, I'm thankful for that. One close encounter with bullet holes is enough for one day," he says. As if that is the only stress he's had on him in the last day. That any of them have been through. And it's still not over as they seek out Michael.

"If there's anything wrong, holler." And even as he says it, he moves to stand by the car, looking around as if hoping she would come pulling up at any minute. Except Alex comes back and nothing. Not promising, not in the least.

The longer they go without hearing from any of them he worries. He'd last hear from Liz that she was okay from the cut, that she had kept Arturo safe, and that Noah hadn't come back. It was the only news he'd had, and it had been hours ago.

Kyle nods at that, moving to get into the car. "I'm trying with Liz again but after everything, she is likely asleep. She promised to let me know if there were any issues with the cut so..." So he's hoping that everything is okay or he would have heard from her. He hopes.

There was silence in the car for several long, unbearable moments until Alex said, "I love him. I think I've loved him for the last ten years, but it's terrifying. The more I learn about what's going on, the more it seems like he's the only thing I have to hold onto." And there was a small, secret part of him that wondered if it was enough.

If it was enough, would he have kept pushing Michael away at every chance he got? Maybe if he hadn't, he'd know what was going on, but maybe he wouldn't. Maybe it would always be like this between them. Michael was his whole world and he couldn't be Michael's. Not with everything else he had going on.

A stray thought latched on and he glanced over at Kyle. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if you and I had never stopped being friends." Maybe nothing would have changed. Kyle's dad would still be dead and Alex's father would still be responsible. And now, all these years later, they were still friends of a sort.

"I wish I had answers to give you," Kyle says softly when Alex speaks about it being scary, and how Guerin might be all Alex has to hold on to.

Like talking about how Kyle is there for him, but he hasn't been. He's been his bully. He's been the monster that made an abused kid's life even worse. Now they've been tentatively working things out, leaving that behind, but Kyle also knows the person he was, and he isn't sure how many changes makes him different. Even if there's only a few of them that likely still think about that side of him rather than the man he's become.

"You'd have had what you have now for the last ten years," he says softly, looking over to Alex from where he's staring out the window, not really seeing anything. "Someone you can turn to whenever you need anything."

Which feels like so much of too little to late, and he knows it. "Something else to hold on to."

He shifts, the sound of it loud to his own ears in the quiet of the car.

"I really a sorry, Alex. I did the same thing I think everyone else has. Taken out their issues on you. I'm really sorry."

Alex slammed on the brakes, turning to look at Kyle. "Stop, okay? Just stop. It's done, you were an idiot, but you weren't the only idiot back then. I did some awful things, too." Like run away from something that had felt right. He'd kept running even after ten years and at least Kyle had admitted he was wrong.

"Let's make a deal that that will be the last time you apologize for being a dick in high school." He paused and added, "Otherwise, you'll start a backlog for when you fuck up from here on out." If he'd felt like smiling, that would have been when he smiled, but the smile was in his voice.

"Okay? Besides, it's not like it would have changed all that much. I ran away after Michael's hand got broken when I should have stayed and done...something."

He turned to make sure Kyle knew he meant it.

He's had no sleep, and while not as much stress as Alex and the others, everything that Kyle has gone through in the last twenty-four hours from talking to Liz about Rosa to everything about the gun and Jesse and Alex hitting the brakes like that sends his stomach dropping.

And pain through his shoulder as the seatbelt locks and presses hard against the bruise, or whatever it is that he's still telling himself is a bruise. It hurts like hell, whatever it is.

Clutching at the door, his hand on the dash, and for a minute panicking that something is wrong, something else has happened, and someone else is trying to kill someone.

Staying very still as Alex talks, even as he draws his arms back, sitting up straight and facing him. Nodding, as he exhales slowly, trying not to let it sound like a sigh.

"It's done," he agrees with a nod. He wants to argue though that maybe he wouldn't have gone into the military. Maybe he'd have come up to Michigan, gone to college there and they could have caused trouble together. At the very least Alex would have had someone to talk to. Instead they had all bailed on this town and tried to pretend they weren't broken. And sometimes they still pretended because it's easier.

"Also, can we leave sudden movements behind for a few days or I'm going to puke if you do that again." It's a crap joke but it's easier than giving into the bile in his throat. "Not to mention wounded here," he quips, smirking as he says it. Yep, everything is fine. Not broken at all.

Alex searched Kyle's face and he didn't like what he saw. He'd seen the same thing in the men and women around him when he'd been overseas and it twisted something in his chest to see it in Kyle's expression now. He'd been in such a rush to go find Michael, to figure out what was going on, that he'd hurried right past the part where he'd checked over Kyle to make sure he was alive. Physically, he was mostly just bruised and that's what Alex had worried about.

But there was more to it than just the physical bruise. The bruise didn't cause the whiteness in Kyle's face or the ways his eyes darted around to assess the situation. Alex pressed his lips together and wondered whether anyone would care if he shot his own father.

"I won't," he promised.

He continued forward slowly, continuing to glance at Kyle out of the corner of his eye. He'd been too lost in his own crap to be worried about more than the physical, but he was worried now.

"I should have known he wouldn't stay away," he muttered softly. Especially since they'd destroyed something that must have been precious. He couldn't help but wonder if that was one of the things his father had squirreled away or whether the government knew about the prisoners that had been held there.

He hates feeling this way. Ever since the panic attack in the gun shop last night - fuck it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet - ever since then he's felt on edge in a way he's just never experienced. Not even on his fifth night on ER duty pulling down a double... after a double with just sleep on an empty bed between calls. That was paranoia. This is knowing they are out to get you.

"Cool, then let's get back to trying to find your wayward... Guerin," he says, knowing he's still being a dick about that, but hey. If he acts normal then it's all fine, right? Fake it until you don't break until a million pieces? Okay, he's pretty sure that's not it but still.

"You shouldn't have to worry about your dad trying to kill people," he shoots back, not wanting Alex to blame himself. "It shouldn't even have to be your job," he mutters, settling back in the seat, staring out the windshield again and not looking at Alex. Especially not as he says this.

"I couldn't... I should have, and I know it, but I couldn't..." He can't even say it. Shit, he feels so fucking weak on this, but he didn't spend all that time actually reevaluating himself as a person to just destroy people like he used to with words and actions.

Except he swore to protect others, and he isn't if Jesse leaves that hospital.

"Given he's under a doctor's care, most investigations would be minimal if he were to not wake up at some point."

He can't believe he's talking about this, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly to try and stay calm and not let that same heart racing, sick as fuck panic take over once more.

"Especially if whatever family member is in charge of his care didn't ask for one."

He'd been putting a lot of things off about this conversation in favor of focusing on the task at hand: finding Michael or Max or Isobel or even Liz at this point and finding out what had happened. But it was starting to become apparent that while Alex could compartmentalize (hide, a part of him said), Kyle was having trouble.

Alex took one hand off the wheel and squeezed Kyle's shoulder gently.

"You're not alone, I promise. Whatever comes your way, especially when it comes to my father, we'll deal with it. You're being a lot kinder to him than anyone else would be and miles away than he would be to you." Given that his father had tried to...

Horror twisted in his stomach and he didn't finish the thought. Just when he and Kyle were getting back to something, just when they were becoming friends again. It was another thing his father had tried to take from him and there would be a reckoning.

"If I have to take it out of your hands so you can sleep easy, I will." Because he'd done as bad or worse over the years.

Until recently, Kyle's life has been fairly good. Sure he didn't become the football star he'd thought about, but he became a better person. He's happy, and he's worked hard for it. He's not had to deal with family secrets revealed, endangered aliens, and death threats. He lost a sister before he ever knew he had her. His father tortured others for being different. So many were suddenly dead, and others dead because of things his father and Alex's hid for so many years. It's painful before he had gone through the last twenty-four hours. He has no idea how to hide it, to pretend he's fine.

Even if he's starting to suspect he's going to need to learn and quickly.

"I didn't become a doctor to shoot someone," he says in a low voice, though he glances at Alex when that touch comes, just starting at him for the longest time. "This is why I told you what I did. You are brave, and strong. I'm just doing whatever I have to just because I have no other choice."

Which isn't true. It's because he'll do whatever he has to for his friends, for those that are really his family even if not by blood. And for those they care about as well. And he'll keep pushing though because they need him to, even if he hasn't had a chance to slow down, to think about his sister, and his dad, and everything else that he's trying to ignore so they can find the others. That's more important than everything he's not thinking about, and he keeps telling himself that.

"We've got time to decide what to do about him,' he says in a low voice. "I don't know if I can ask you to do something I'm not willing to do. If things go to Hell, I can't have you going to prison because of him." He'd rather he be the one to do it, if he had to.

"Though let's be honest, I'm really too goddamn good looking for prison," he says, trying to pull himself together, if only because he can't be another burden that Alex is dealing with. He won't have him having to carry him.

"I'll figure something out. Thank you though." As if it's on him now, and as Jesse is his patient, he feels it is.

Alex snorted a laugh. That was something he admired about Kyle. His ability to put an absurd spin on even the most serious subjects, just injecting a little bit of humor to make the terrible seem not as bad.

"You are. You'd be someone's bitch within the first half hour." And...okay. That was enough of thinking about Kyle bending over and taking it. His love life was complicated enough and his relationship with Kyle maybe even moreso. He didn't want to screw this up the way he had all those years ago.

He pulled his hand back to put on the wheel and shook his head. "You're wrong, though. I'm not brave. I just put on a good act." Maybe he had his moments, but they never seemed to last long. If he'd been brave, he would have told his father to go to hell at the drive-in. If he'd been brave, he would have stayed on that tailgate and to hell with the rest of the world.

He sighed as he pulled into the parking lot at the Wild Pony.

"Someone had better be here," he said and got out before Kyle could respond to his 'I'm not brave' comment. He knew why people always thought he was brave. His leg was a very clear comment about why they thought that. But he knew they were wrong and he didn't need Kyle's platitudes or to go into detail about why Kyle was wrong.

Not that the quiet would last long because Kyle was probably right behind him. He headed for the door, opening it quickly so that maybe he could get into a conversation with Maria before Kyle could call him on what he'd said and froze.

Michael. There he was, like he didn't have a care in the world or had made any promises to be anywhere. And... His heart twisted and tears sprang to his eyes when he actually took in what he was seeing. Michael was playing the guitar. To Maria.

He shut the door quietly and backed up, smacking into a warm chest.

"Michael's fine, which means that Max and Isobel are going to be." Because there was no way that he was going to serenade Maria without his family being safe. He stumbled away from Kyle and headed back to the car. "Where can I drop you? I have a date with..." Michael. He had a date with Michael which Michael was clearly not keeping. And he couldn't drink his pain away at the Wild Pony like he usually might.

"Saturn's Ring," he finally said and yes, it was a tourist joint, but maybe that was for the best. He wouldn't be recognized there. No one would question why he was having a mid-afternoon bender."

This was not the time to think about Alex talking about making Kyle his bitch, which is not what Alex said and yet that is the image that goes through his head, leaving him trying to catch his breath and focus on anything but that.

So he lets Alex get out of the vehicle and head for the bar, ending up a few steps behind Alex as they head into the bar.

Or don't head into the bar as it ends up, Alex backing up into him and closing the door.

"What the hell, Ma..." He stops, blinking at him in shock. "Uhmmm, okay? I mean, are you sure? We could just..." He glances towards the door and then back to Alex. Maria's car is in the parking lot, and Alex is acting all panicked and weird and... Kyle glances back towards the door and then to Alex.

Oh. Oh no. After all of this, they couldn't...

Except he's looking at Alex who says he's going to that overdone tourist trap and definitely it's just about as bad inside that door as Kyle is imagining. Okay maybe not as bad as he's imagining, but worse for Alex. Less nudity, way more intimacy.

"Huh. You know, that's funny, because that's exactly where I was going to ask you to drop me off at. Anywhere that has that much alcohol is perfect right now. You know, if you want, I can drive," he says, heading for the car.

Alex shook his head. "You don't have to, Kyle. Michael's inside if you want to go ask him where everyone else is." He didn't think he could face the two of them. And maybe it wasn't anything, but it looked like something. It looked as if Michael had his hand back. Clearly near-death wasn't the only thing Max could heal. And he'd chosen to play for someone for the first time in years.

He'd chosen to play for Maria.

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he thought that maybe the better idea was to grab a few bottles of something and head home. He couldn't do any damage out there and it wasn't like Michael was looking for him. He'd probably even forgotten that he'd made a plan to meet up.

"And we both know that you wouldn't step inside that tourist shack if someone paid you." Which...it meant a lot that Kyle was willing to go for him. But he wasn't likely to be the best company. He was just planning on drinking until he was sick and then having whoever the bartender was call him a cab.

"The truth? I'm not here for Guerin. I'm here to help you." And to not be alone, to not be alone with his thoughts, and his fears, and his pain. Being out with Alex has helped him to calm down and try and find center, to be as relaxed as he can be. Not that anything is very relaxing right now.

"Then give me your keys," he says, stepping in close to Alex and holding out his hand. "And we'll go back to my place. I've got some bottles there, or we can stop on the way. We've talked all morning about needing a drink, and I don't think either of us really needs to be drinking alone," he says, because it's true. As much as he knows it's more for Alex right now, he's not sure he could go home and start drinking and stop at any point.

"At least they way we can both make sure the other doesn't end up face down in their own puke." Or he can have a few drinks, and let Alex get as wasted as he needs to. It's been easy to wallow in his own fears right until someone else needs his help, let's him care for them. It lets him have the focus he needs to pull himself together. At least for now.

There was a brief flicker of a smile and a bleak expression on Alex's face at that comment. What he wouldn't give for Michael to be the one saying that. Yes, Alex had made mistakes. Plenty of mistakes. But he'd thought they were getting to a better place.

And now...

He pressed the keys into Kyle's hand. "My place. No one really knows where I am. Except for random people trying to break in because they think they still own it."

Another flicker of a smile and he headed for the passenger's side. "We'll have to stop for something on the way out." Because he wasn't too keen on having a lot of alcohol in the house. Too much temptation some days and if he was in that kind of mood, he'd prefer to be at the Wild Pony with friends who could keep him in check.

Which wasn't an option. Might not be an option for a while.

"I am entirely not random, thank you very much," he says, heading for the driver's seat. "And not my fault you and my father snuck around," he teases, getting in behind the wheel, glancing at Alex. "Even if I'm glad he did, though I wasn't wrong about finding answers there. Just saying."

Nodding at the comment about needing to stop, pulling out and heading for the package store. The silence feels tense, heavier than it's been all morning and that's saying something when they'd been searching for answers about friends possibly being dead. He's not sure what to say though, or even if there's anything that can be said to help.

"Have you eaten at all? Do I have that talk about drinking on an empty stomach?" Trying to make it sound like a joke, teasing, and hypocritical as hell given he hasn't eaten either.

"You're absolutely random," Alex muttered, mostly for osmething else to say. He did make a bit of a face at the mention of Alex and Kyle's father sneaking around. Sure, it wasn't like that, but after finding out that Kyle was actually Rosa's half-brother, it was a little weird to hear.

"Fine," he said when Kyle mentioned food. "Stop for fast food, too. Unless you want me to make omelets or something."

Except he didn't really want to stop drinking long enough to cook. He was willing to eat while he was drinking. So if Kyle wanted him to have food, they'd have to get it before the alcohol.

Despite the fact that Kyle has been nearly out of it all morning, now that he has a focus and someone to care for, he's pulling himself together. It's why he's good at what he does, at the life he chose for himself, and it's showing now.

"Naw, we'll stop for food. You definitely don't have to do anything once we get back to the cabin," he says, thinking about his route for a minute and then heading to the package store first. "You can stay in the car if you want. Do you want anything in particular?"

Maybe it's not what Alex needs this minute but until they get home and Kyle can start pouring drinks, it's the best thing he can offer. Just to be there for Alex. Just getting through both stops and getting them away from everyone else and let him just try and forget for a minute.

Alex shook his head. "You were the one who was shot and now you're the one taking care of me." He... He'd only had his heart shattered. Only. "I'll come in with you." And they'd pick out a handful of bottles of alcohol and figure out food and then they would go home and drink until he didn't care that Michael had chosen Maria over him. That he wouldn't care that he hadn't seen it coming because he'd taken Maria at her word.

But he could hold up under a little emotional strain and it wasn't fair of him to make Kyle take up the slack, not in his condition. So they'd do it together. And then get completely plastered together.

It wasn't long before they had all the things they needed and were heading home. And still Alex couldn't keep from seeing Michael playing the guitar. Needless to say, he'd been quiet for most of the drive.

"Technically I got hit with a fastball from about ninety paces. I'll survive," he says, dismissing it as if that is all that matters. And in Kyle's mind, in that moment, it is all that matters.

So he gets the alcohol, and gets them food, and heads out to the cabin. To his credit, Kyle doesn't try and make small talk, doesn't ask about whatever it is Alex has seen. Just getting him back to the cabin and grabbing their bags to head inside.

"Anything you need me to do before we start pouring drinks?"

So far, Kyle hadn't mentioned what had happened at the Wild Pony. Alex knew his luck wasn't going to last. Especially if he got drunk because then he'd be more than willing to spill his guts. But he would have to get drunk first. So he shook his head.

"I'm good." He started to unpack the food while Kyle poured the drinks.

Of course, not talking about what he'd seen didn't mean he wasn't thinking about it. Obsessively. He and Michael weren't together so, realistically, he couldn't be upset at him. But it still hurt because he thought they were going to have a conversation that maybe changed that. He'd been fighting his father's battles and here was one of his own he could fight.

And instead, Michael had chosen someone else, something else.

Going into the kitchen, moving easily about the cabin as if this is their childhood trips up here and not their entire world changing again. Maybe it's how life always is, but lately it's been inundating Kyle with changes he just has no idea how to cope with. So he's not. It's easier to focus on Liz, and Isobel, and Alex, and aliens than it is to focus on how all of that changes his life, or that there's still a man out there in a coma that tried to kill him.

Nope, instead he gets glasses and ice and comes in and sets it all on the table above that hidden room where his sister was supposed to get clean.

"So are we even pretending this isn't daydrinking to get wasted?" And even as he asks, he pours them both a double on the rocks making it clear he's definitely not pretending.

Alex took the drink when Kyle handed it to him and poured it down his throat like it was nothing, even if he grimaced a little at the burn. That would go away soon enough and all he would be left with was something numb. He couldn't even say pleasantly.

"This is daydrinking to forget that Michael chose Maria. And that she let him." And maybe they hadn't been having sex on the bar, but he knew what playing the guitar meant to Michael and he'd seen the smile on Maria's face. He didn't have to paint-by-numbers to figure out that Michael had made some decision that didn't include Alex.

He let Kyle decide whether how fast they were going to get drunk and rummaged around in the bags of takeout they'd gotten. He could have cooked and it might have busied his hands, but he was as likely to throw a plate against the wall. He just wanted to forget the outside world for a night.

"Oh, that reminds me," he said, "give me your phone. Unless you want to be reachable."

Well, at least Alex is going to put it out there on the table. Fair enough then. For Kyle it isn't as much about knowing the detail but in having an idea of how to handle this for Alex until he gets drunk enough the pain hurts less.

Leaning forward to fill Alex's glass again, thinking about how he'd like to have it out with both of them, though he's fairly certain at this moment especially both of them would probably kick his ass. Hell, they raised their voices and he'd probably flinch. Fuck. So much for helping beyond enabling alcoholic tendencies.

"I know this is going to sound like a dumb fucking question but there's no way you got things wrong? That it's way more innocent than it sounds?"

Even as he asks, he holds his phone out to Alex, frowning slightly. "You're not going to throw it in a fit of anger, are you?"

"I have my own phone for that." Instead, he headed into the other room and came back with a small kit. He set about removing the SIM card - easy enough - and the battery - just a little harder - while he answered Kyle's question.

"I suppose I should mention that they slept together. Recently. Maria said it didn't mean anything. That it was a one-night-stand kind of deal. But Michael was in there playing a guitar for her and that was not a one-night-stand kind of thing. Especially when the two of us were supposed to be talking."

Which meant that it wasn't like Michael had had more important things to do.

"And playing, for him, it's kind of special. So yeah, it was G-rated, but it wasn't innocent."

He put Kyle's phone and his down, putting their respective SIM cards and batteries on top of the cases.

"There. Now we're about as off the grid as we're going to get."

"They..." He stops at that, considering what he's known, how long he's realized Alex was hot for someone involved in all of this, and figuring out it was Guerin hadn't been that hard. So... Had she known? But then, hell, Max had all but dropped to his knees and begged Liz to walk all over him in heels so, maybe not everyone backed off if they were with someone else.

Though after that image in his head early, would he now?

It's a thought he never though he would have, frowning as he picked up his glass and downed it, pouring himself another.

"Wait, wait, hold up." He makes a face, canting his head and peering at Alex. "I thought with how his hand is all messed up... Could he even?" Because he's seen the damage, could guess just how much it would inhibit him, and he's pretty sure the tendons and muscles wouldn't be able to do that.

"They know you live out here? If so, you might want to move your vehicle out back so they can't see it from down the lane," he says, just playing into this, though he guesses if he thinks about it... He almost laughs.

"My friend is a spy. I never thought of it that way," he says, shaking his head. "Aliens and spies and killers, oh my." Yeah, he is just barely holding onto sanity in many ways. Sorry, Alex.

"You were the one who told me that Max saved Liz's life. I can only imagine that he had something to do with Michael's hand. I just can't figure out why he did it now." Or back when they could have played it off as him healing naturally. But he wasn't sure he'd ever really known how Guerin thought.

"No one knows where I live. No one but you." Not that he thought his brothers were going to come looking for them. Not yet. But it was better to be on the safe side and it had the side benefit of meaning that none of the Guerin-Evanses could reach either him or Kyle. It would mean a night free of any expectations and he could already feel his shoulders start to relax.

"Aliens and spies and killers and doctors, oh my," Alex retorted.

"And yeah. They." And god, now that his hands had stopped their busy manipulations, he was thinking about it again.

Kyle sits back, holding his glass in both hands and considering that. Considering that if Max could do that, why didn't he do it sooner? Why not do it ten years ago instead of leaving Guerin to suffer all this time? He can understand why Alex is wondering that, because if he could heal people like that? He'd blow his own secret day one.

"Maybe something else happened and he had to fix that and it fixed the whole hand? If he hurt his hand again maybe?"

He snorts at that but looks a bit relieved. "The one positive to my father keeping secrets then, I guess." And with that he takes a drink, still adjusting to how his world looks now. The full range of the secrets his father kept. That an attempt was made on his life. Aliens on their own seemed almost normal now, even if he had willingly accepted it all rather than be that asshole that just dismissed the possibility.

He wanted that surprising possibility back over everything else it came with.

He lifts his glass in toast at that. "Hey, all those years in medical school are paying off in this. Football wouldn't have done me jackshit." Not that he's ever regretted it before, but he likes seeing the time and changes he's made pay off.

"So... I told Liz about Rosa," he says, because this house is making him think about it, and it is important to him and better for him to focus on than the rest. "You know, while I stitched up my ex girlfriend using her mother's sewing thread."

He picked up his glass and was a little more methodical about this one. There was getting drunk and there was ruining his liver. He started to sip slowly, but then Kyle raised his hand in a toast, and Alex snorted when he realized exactly what Kyle was toasting to. He took a longer sip.

"I'm not sure football did anything but turn you into a bit of a jackass. Well, that and give you abs." And oh, those abs. He definitely remembered having a bit of a lust/hate relationship with those abs. They belonged to the asshole who'd turned his life upside down because he'd lost the one person he thought he could trust. But then they were also so lickable.

He took another long sip. Maybe his liver could survive a little heavy drinking.

"What even is our lives? My ex is an alien. Your ex's sister is also your sister. It sounds like an episode of General Hospital or something." Not that there were ever aliens in that show. ...he didn't think.

"Oh, football turned me into a huge jackass," he points out, not even denying that. He's come a long way, and he can admit his failings from back then. That said, he also can't help but brag when he has the chance as well.

"Though my abs then were nothing compared to now," he says with a snort, tugging up the hem of his shirt and baring several inches of tanned washboard abs. "I work a lot harder at them now instead of accepting what being a teenager and playing sports gave me," he says, patting his abs, sighing softly "Well, at least if I die in all this I'll leave one helluva good looking corpse," he says, making a face. "Not that it'll matter, organ donor and all."

Well, his brain has definitely gone to morbid places, even though he's been trying so hard to hold himself together. If nothing else for Alex's sake, though it's him fearing how he'll react if he lets himself crack.

"You forgot where your dad tried to kill me, and our family legacy is torture," he mutters, shaking his glass. "I should have brought more ice in. You got an ice bucket?" Because if he keeps letting his thoughts go there, he's going to ruin a lot of years of good eating and working out in a single night.

"Oh! Hey! At least none of us have an evil twin?" Looking on the bright side, right? "My luck would be if anyone has a twins, it'd be Max."

"What?" Alex asked, completely missing out on anything Kyle was saying. He wasn't drunk enough to ogle Kyle's abs. And even if it wasn't Kyle, he wasn't sure his heart was capable of a rebound. Not so fast. Not until he'd at least had a chance to be properly mad at Michael.

But here he was, feeling like he was in high school again and sneaking a peek at his mortal enemy while he was walking around without his shirt.

The talk of his father brought him back from ab heaven and he shook his head to try to knock the image out of his head. He'd already had one old crush come back to haunt him. He didn't need another just when he and Kyle were getting to some kind of normal.

"My father can go fuck himself." He said it, he meant it, and he'd even had a chance to say it to the man's face. He was just disappointed that it hadn't managed to stick.

"I really hope that Max stays a boy scout. I have no desire to see his evil twin."

He sighed and settled more firmly into the couch. "And you can put the abs away now."

Despite earlier mental images, Kyle isn't thinking that he's being distracting. Much as Alex has forgiven him, he's still not sure why... and he's not sure why he is even having those kind of thoughts except that he's dealing with so much stress right now that he's obviously not on an even keel.

It's going to take a marathon of morning runs to even get close to clearing his mind to the point he isn't going to panic every time he gets started. He can only hope nothing makes a loud noise in surgery any time soon.

"I'd like to never think about Jesse Manes and fucking, thank you," he mutters, sounding like he's back in high school. "Between that and two Maxes I may be forever turned off, thanks."

It's childish and silly but God, it's what he needs right now.

"I can..." He looks down, realizing his tee is still rucked up. "Shit, my bad." He tugs down his tee. "Want to hear something stupid? All this panic, the worry, and I know it doesn't change shit when a gun is involved, but I literally do boxing training like twice a week, and I never would have thought to throw a punch. Nope. Just never thought about the fact that I train in self defense."

Because he knew with this enemy it wouldn't be enough.

"You were shot," Alex reminded. "I'm pretty sure that implies that he didn't give you a chance to punch him. I, on the other hand, managed to disarm Flint and then aim his own weapon at him." He was a bit smug at that and got up to get another drink. Instead of dealing with the glasses, he just brought over one of the bottles.

"Come over here," he said, gesturing with the bottle. If they were going to be sharing a bottle, he didn't want to actually move every time they passed it back and forth. And he wasn't drinking. If they were getting into talking about what had happened with his brother, his father, he was definitely going to need more than two or three glasses.

He leaned into one corner of the couch and couldn't help teasing Kyle a little by lifting up his own shirt a little. Maybe he didn't have the chiseled stomach Kyle did, but his own was nothing to be ashamed of.

"There. In case you wanted incentive. Or maybe just as payback."

"Oh? Did you? Huh. I admit, I didn't see that," he says, unable to help himself as he glances at Alex, trying not to smirk. "I mean, that would be really cool... if it happened." And he is sure it did. Alex is a bad ass, after all. Of that he has no doubt. "Shame you didn't get that on camera."

Laughing when Alex just moves to the bottle, setting down his empty glass. Considering the move when Alex goes lifting up his shirt, and Kyle tilts his head to one side, staring at Alex's stomach. For a moment he finds himself utterly lost in thoughts he hasn't had since he was a teenager. Huh

Pushing himself to his feet, he moves to drop down beside him on the couch and leaning into Alex until there is a bit of space between them but not much. "You know, for a guy that probably doesn't spend an hour a day in the gym, not bad," he says, pursing his lips and nodding.

"Plus you've got the whole manly but not Sasquatch thing going on," he says, apparently actually putting thought into this. "It's a good look."

"I spend over an hour a day in the gym, thank you." Alex leaned in on his end mostly so he could elbow Kyle in the stomach. And then he just didn't bother to move back. "I'm just not working out my abs."

He knocked on his leg and lifted an eyebrow at Kyle as if he should have remembered that there was a reason Alex needed to work out. Or, in some circles, it was called physical therapy and he had to do it if he wanted to regain as much of his physical ability as he could.

He chuckled when Kyle called it a 'good look'.

"Been thinking about this a lot, have you?" he teased and then realized that they were at a teasing place. Ever since Kyle had made the comment about his type.

"Physical therapy is not what I meant, and you knew that," he says, giving him a look before rolling his eyes at the elbow, even if he finds he doesn't mind that lean, liking how Alex feels against him. It's so much of their past, the way they had been, and it feels... it feels like something in his world is right again. Even when he hadn't been entirely aware of what he was missing.

"Physical therapy isn't you paying a beautiful sadist to push you until your arms feel like jelly," he teases. "Though if you want a time with Olivia, I'll give her a call," he teases.

He considers that, shrugging. "When I talked through all my homophobic bullshit, one of the things my doctor had me do was considering what I find attractive on men. I had to learn to rethink that attractive isn't attraction or sexual. I had to stop thinking on the terms I'd learned to hide being afraid," he says, shrugging, and obviously quoting some of the things he's heard from his therapist.

"Much as I don't like the look on me," he says, rubbing a hand over his chest that has been well waxed and smooth. "It's one I prefer on a guy," he says, shrugging. He snickers suddenly. "Man, that was probably waaaaay more than you wanted to hear."

"Make it an Oliver and you have a deal." And, fine. Maybe it didn't make much of a difference what kind of sadist pushed him around, but now that they were talking sex and attraction and all that bullshit, it reminded him that it had been a while since he'd had any.

Which was his own fault. He'd been the one who'd had doubts in the first place and broke things off and then made sure it stayed off when he found out about aliens in some kind of attempt to keep Michael safe. And then--

He grimaced. There were too many 'and thens' and he didn't want to remember any of them.

"While it's great you got therapy and now you're all enlightened, all you really need to do is say three words. Repeat after me: Alex, you're hot."

He smirked and took a slug from the bottle before offering it back to Kyle.

He considers that. "I might know a guy," he says. "But damn, you're practically laying on me and you're asking for a hook up? Fine. I'll take you to my gym and you can have your pick." Of that he has no doubt. Alex could definitely have his pick of men, he suspects.

He laughs though when Alex lays it out, pushes him and he knows that the problem is, he isn't one to back down. More than that, Alex knows it too. He's kind of aware of that as he takes the bottle and takes a drink.

"I know I haven't been in the military so I'm not as good with orders," he says, toying with the bottle. "But let me try."

He leans his head over so he's basically whispering in Alex's ear. "Alex, you've always been hot."

Alex shivered. He couldn't help it. Much as it probably wasn't about Kyle, there was a guy whispering in his ear and yes, Alex was practically lying on top of him, but Kyle bringing it up almost sounded...disappointed.

First that and then the whisper and Alex was a little confused and more perturbed and he shot Kyle a dark look.

"Do you really want to play chicken with me, Valenti?" Slowly, he slid his hand to Kyle's knee and then moved it so his hand was on the inside of Kyle's thigh, not moving. Just stopped there.

"I won our last game." Or lost if you wanted to look at it like that. Kyle had blinked first. More than blinked.

He wanted a friend. He wasn't interested in being fucked with.

Somewhere between the way Alex reacts to those words and the feeling of Manes' hand on his thigh, and Kyle starts to realize that he is in way over his head. Not because he's playing some game with Alex at the worst possible time, but because he's realized that in his stress and with the help of alcohol, he's being way too honest. More than he ever planned to be with how things have been over the last few months, before this morning and after.

"I..." He takes another drink, knowing he could laugh this off, maybe piss Alex off and blow this all off and go back to drinking until the pair of them passed out. "It's the truth, Manes. You've always been hot. What scared me the most," he says, knowing that he's breaking the mood of teasing and joking but he's too fucking tired of everything to play games. "And I'm keeping up my tradition of being a dick and saying this right now," he admits, pushing the bottle at Alex before he starts chugging.

"I don't even know what you're saying right now," he said, taking an extra long sip from the bottle. That was pretty much a lie. He had a pretty good idea what Kyle was trying to say. But that was one revelation too many. And sure, maybe right now he was being the coward, but they'd both come here to get away from everything.

He said that, but he'd used the hand that wasn't on Kyle's thigh to grab the bottle. He paused mid-way to lowering the bottle and then continued drinking.

"I'd still win a game of chicken," he muttered, desperately trying to recapture that teasing mood that Kyle's serious shift had dispelled.

Kyle snorts, not caring if that's the truth or not. Kind of glad for it because the moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He's been impulsive in his desires before but whatever that hand on his thigh means, Alex taunting him he's sure because of the past, Alex has been through Hell in a literal morning and Kyle wants to help.

If taunting Kyle for his past, for the horrible person he was helps, then so be it.

"Yeah, sure you would. It's easy enough to say, Manes." Leaning down once more, his lips just brushing Alex's ear as he speaks. "But we know how little words are worth." Trying to ignore the shiver it sends up his spine, how he can taste the salt from Alex skin on his lips as he licks them.

"Fine," Alex said, still a little angry from Kyle changing the mood. He squeezed Kyle's thigh and turned to face him. Because he'd been practically kissing his ear, Kyle was right there. Too close and maybe not close enough.

"Just say uncle when you've had enough," he murmured and leaned in. It looked like he was heading in for Kyle's lips, but he shifted and pressed his mouth to Kyle's neck instead, licking at the skin before sucking on it gently.

If anything was going to scare him off, it would be a hickey he couldn't explain. But he did move his hand up a little, just to see whether Kyle was actually enjoying this or just pissing him off for no reason.

Kyle's breath catches in his lungs, going utterly still as Alex leans in, wondering how he'll feel kissing a guy, even a guy like Alex who he's thought about for years. Then it's more than a kiss, at least to Kyle.

Some part of his mind is telling him to stop. Telling him that neither of them can explain this, and Alex probably wouldn't so it's some secret that he'll be keeping. Yet it feels so good, and everything in his mind just shuts down and focuses on nothing but Alex and how good this feel.

His fingers brush along the back of Alex's neck, dragging them through his hair as he cups the back of Alex's head in a silent plea for him not to stop. Legs parting a little, groaning as the sensation of Alex's mouth on his skin goes right through him.

Alex almost thought he knew where this was going. Until Kyle groaned and this suddenly turned into something real. He almost pulled away, pulling back just enough to really look at Kyle. There was something about his eyes that said that this was no joke. That he was enjoying the feel of Alex's mouth on his skin.

That should have been the warning sign that Alex needed to stop this. After all, he already had one fucked up relationship. He didn't need a second. But he'd had enough to drink that 'should' didn't matter.

He grabbed Kyle's shirt and tugged.

"Come sit on my lap, Valenti," he said with a smirk. He'd have been the one to straddle Kyle's, but that would mean dealing with the prosthetic and he wasn't quite that far gone, yet. Not on alcohol or on lust.

Some part of Kyle is berating himself for not just telling a joke, making some smart ass comment, and letting this go to teasing and him backing down. But then Alex was kissing his neck, and everything he knew he should be doing he just couldn't bring himself to do.

Like pull away and end this now.

He can't bring himself to do it though. Sure he could blame the alcohol, but it's more than that and he knows it.

That tug is all it takes, shifting to kneel over Alex's lap, to straddle him as both hands move to cup Alex's face. Staring into his eyes for a moment, just the briefest of pauses, and then his mouth is on Alex's, kissing him with the sort of reckless abandon he doens't think he's ever truly known before.

His heart twisted because that, that look right there had been another sign that he should stop this before it really got started. It was a sign that there might be feelings involved and how fucked up would it be if this were Kyle's first time with a guy? How fucked up was it that this was Kyle in the first place?

But then Kyle was kissing him, really kissing him and all Alex had it in him to do was lean back and roll his hips up and pretend like this was some random hookup and not Kyle fucking Valenti, the first person he'd ever had a crush on long before Michael showed up and twisted his world sideways.

He slid his hands over Kyle's ass to pull him closer and start a slow rock that was a perfect counterpoint to their frenzied kisses.

Kyle knows he should say something. Hell, Kyle knows he should back up and back off and laugh it off that Alex was right, he is too chicken for this. And yet, instead, he's kissing Alex. He's settled on Alex's lap, arching into him as he feels that roll of his hips.

Groaning once more, pressing his knees wider, letting himself press to Alex, grinding against him with soft, needy sounds. Letting his hands slide down, working to get his fingers beneath Alex's shirt and moaning as he felt the heat of Alex's skin against his palms. He's thought about this a time or two since Alex had come back to Roswell and maybe it was wrong but just this once he was going to be selfish.

Even if he suspects that by the time sobriety hits Alex, this isn't going to happen again.

And that was about the time it really hit him that Kyle wanted this. That this had evolved from some kind of game of chicken because chicken didn't involve the kinds of sounds that Kyle was making. Chicken didn't have him tugging Kyle's shirt off until those distracting abs were bare or pressing into the hands that were making his skin feel hot.

He considered kissing other parts of Kyle's body, but his mouth kept gravitating towards Kyle's mouth. Clearly his body had decided that it wasn't done exploring Kyle's mouth or maybe it didn't want to stop their rocking.

He did reach down and tug a little at one of Kyle's nipples. Eventually he would drag his tongue over the skin there, but that could wait until he couldn't stand the grinding and needed more.

It is the first time in months that there hasn't been any other thought in Kyle's mind but what is before, except pleasure and having what he wants, and not worrying about life or death or loss. Just how Alex is kissing him, and how good Alex's body feels against his.

Working to try and get Alex's pants open, suddenly desperate to make him feel good, to touch and taste and have as much as he can. He doesn't want to think about the past, about his stupidity as a teen, or anything but about how good this feels, how good it feels to give into thoughts he's had since he was a boy.

"Alex. Fuck," he groans, nipping at his bottom lip as he continues to roll his hips, rutting against Ale

Except Alex was holding him too tight, too close. The more they kissed, the more Alex wanted, and the more he wanted, the harder he got. After a minute, he realized Kyle's intent and indecision warred within him. Whether he should do this. How he should do this. All he needed to tell Kyle was that he'd won.

"Here, get off," he finally murmured. "I can't take anything off with you sitting there."

Except he was still holding onto Kyle's ass and squeezing, still leaning in to kiss along Kyle's neck. If Kyle got off, Alex was pretty sure that one of them was going to come to their senses and he knew it might very well be him.

He thought about suggesting the bed, but that almost seemed like the point of no return and he could always give Kyle a decent enough handjob or blowjob right here.

"What I was trying to do," he mutters, wincing though when he realizes what Alex meant, and not about them getting off in their jeans like this was high school under the bleachers.

For a brief moment there's a glimpse of that, of the times he'd been with Liz, with girls before they started dating, under the bleachers and making out like this. But for that moment, it's a glimpse of Alex and him like this. Alex's hands clutching at Kyle's Letterman jacket and Kyle's fingers hooked in the belt loop of those wide leg monstrosities that Alex sometimes wore. Thinking about eyeliner smeared and his lips lightly tugging on that earring and Kyle suddenly groans, wondering for a brief moment how this would have gone then.

Probably ending with a fight, he realizes, and he has no plans for this to end the same way.

He's terrified and scared and has no idea how this is even going to work, or how far it's going to go. He doesn't know what Alex might expect from him, and not like he hadn't a clue how this works but who's giving and who's receiving and it's the first conscious thought he's had since their lips met. He realizes one thing though... he doesn't want to worry about it. He trusts Alex enough that if he doesn't like something, he'll stop. That's all that matters, right?

Both of his hands cup Alex's face and Kyle kisses him like he's going to die if he doesn't do this. Like he needs it more than anything. Gasping as he breaks the kiss, his lips still against Alex's, nipping at his bottom lip.

"We really going to do this here," he murmurs. It's not like he doesn't love how it feels riding against Alex like this, but if they're moving to clothes off, that ever growing part of him that wants this wants to know why they're not getting into a bed, the floor, anything with more space.

A shudder went through Alex’s body. This was the make or break moment, the moment when he decided whether he was really going to do this. Talk about doozies of a rebound. But then Kyle kissed him and it was if he was sucked right back into that feeling of abandon that had started this. That feeling that Kyle was challenging him.

He finally took his hands off of Kyle’s ass and pressed both of them to his chest, pushing him just enough that he’d pull away from Alex’s mouth. Even though a part of him was tempted to watch Kyle sprawl on his ass.

“Off,” he ordered. “And give me a hand up.”

Fine, if Kyle wanted someplace different, they’d go to the bedroom and Alex would attempt to quiet that voice that was saying this was a bad idea and that one or both of them was going to end up hurting the other.

Hating that motion, hating moving away from kissing him again. There is something about kissing Manes in this moment where everything else melts away. Gone. Forgotten. Just this and them and it's all good.

And he's terrified that any moment it's going to stop and Alex is going to remember that he's in love with another, and that Kyle is the asshole that tormented him and shit, what the hell happened when he somehow suddenly wanted a guy this much. No. Not a guy. Alex Manes. This one particular guy that he'd had a crush on in his youth and apparently hadn't truly gotten over.

His knees feel weak when he stands, groaning as fabric rubs against his cock, against the hard length of his cock that is so noticeable through his jeans. He holds both hands out to Alex.

"You using the master bedroom?" He's spent a lot of time in this cabin, and he's making it clear that he isn't pretending to not know where this is heading. Unless one of them backs down still.

Alex glanced at Kyle's dick when Kyle got up and he let out a slow breath. All they'd really been doing to this point was making out. Alex knew from being drunkenly teased by his female friends - not Maria or Liz - that you didn't get hard just by kissing someone, not if you weren't actually attracted to them in the first place.

So Kyle wanted him. Really wanted him. He let out a shuddering breath and grabbed both of Kyle's hands, letting himself get pulled up.

"Yeah," he agreed, leaning in and kissing Kyle again briefly before grabbing his hand and leading him into the bedroom.

He let go when they were inside and turned, watching Kyle as Alex slowly lifted his own shirt over his head. He tossed it on the ground and then stepped back in, pressing bare chest to bare chest.

Kyle suspects if he backed down now, Alex wouldn't hate him. They might stay friends. Maybe. Except there's nothing in him at all that wants to stop this. Too hard from kissing Alex to even pretend he doesn't want this. Has for longer than he wants to remember because that brings up so much else, the horrible things he did. To Alex.

So instead he follows Alex, keeping tight hold of his hand until they're in the bedroom. Not wanting Alex to even leave, to move away, and so he's moving in instantly as Alex presses up against him.

"This is the part where I admit I don't have a lot of experience and you mock me, right?"

"I'm not going to mock you," Alex said. The truth, as far as it went. He would be good and angry later, when he'd had a chance to process just what they were doing, but he didn't want to spend that time to think about what this meant when Kyle was hot and hard against him. In fact, the longer he could keep from that line of thinking, the better as far as he was concerned.

He tugged Kyle back to the bed and sat on the edge, leaning back and pulling Kyle with him.

"I think this is what you're looking for?" he teased, popping open the button to his jeans. This was more what he had in mind instead of taunting Kyle. Teasing them both to the edge, not creating a situation that was bound to have them both angry and frustrated.

It feels crazy to be the age he is and suffering the amount of nervousness that is overwhelming him with being with another person. He rarely second guesses himself in a sexual situation but this isn't just any lover. This is Alex Manes, a fantasy he's pretended he hasn't held for years, and now he has a chance. Maybe just the one night, but that's all he needs or desires.

Or so he tells himself. For now though he just focusing on here and now and Alex.

"That's a start," he murmurs, brushing a soft kiss to Alex's mouth as he lets himself be drawn down onto the bed with Alex. Settling in against him with a groan, shifting slightly to the side to let him run a hand over Alex's stomach, teasing along the waistband of his pants as Kyle's mouth glides over his neck, kissing and nuzzling along his throat. Savoring the slight roughness, the taste of salt on his skin as Kyle's tongue darts out and over Alex's pulsepoint.

Alex's breath caught when Kyle's mouth left his. The act seemed more deliberate somehow. Maybe it was the fact that they'd changed locations. That they'd both made this decision to be in the bed rather than keep pretending that this was some game. But right now it felt like the entire world - and especially the room - was spinning and those lips on his neck were the only things keeping him grounded.

He reached for Kyle, one hand rubbing firmly against the outline of his cock. After all, Alex had to lead by example, even though he was fairly sure that Kyle could figure out the rudiments of a hand job, given he probably gave one to himself a few times a week.

He closed his eyes and arched his neck, letting out a soft moan. Whatever Kyle decided he wanted to do was fine with Alex so long as he didn't stop.

With another guy, Kyle might have been more aggressive, not worrying about how he does things so long as they both get off from it. While he may have fantasized about it, he's never really thrown himself into it. Not like this. No one has ever made him feel this way.

So maybe with another he would be more aggressive. That would be with anyone that wasn't Alex Manes. With Alex though all the rules change. Kyle feels changed having this moment.

Biting and kissing, playing along the muscles of Alex's neck. Just wanting to explore, to feel Alex's pulse against his lips, to feeling the way he moves, the sounds he makes. All because of what Kyle does to him.

And as he does, he works Alex's fly open, needing to get his pants open. Just enough he can slide his hand down, pushing past Alex's underwear. Moaning as his fingers brushed over Alex's cock.

Despite knowing the direction this had been heading in, Alex still froze briefly when he felt Kyle's hand. For a moment, it could go either way. But then he relaxed into the touch, cupping Kyle's jaw and pulling him back up so that they could keep kissing.

Better he keep himself as distracted as possible before this all caught up with him alcohol-fuzzy mind.

But since Kyle had given him the idea, Alex returned the favor and undid Kyle's jeans, spitting on the palm of his hand before slipping inside.

"Not laughing," he promised again.

Something about hearing Alex's voice then, even with the words as they are, he can't help but groan. God, he's never thought about how sexy Alex's voice is. Not until he hears it in that moment.

"Fuck, not going to laugh," he whispers, not sure why he would. Alex is touching him, and he doesn't care how much shock he's in, how much he's had to drink. He just cares about Alex touching him like that and it not stopping.

"Just, God, don't stop." He whispers, brushing a kiss along Alex's ear. "I need you."

Alex covered Kyle's mouth with his after that. He was trying his damndest not to think, not about what he'd seen today with Michael, not about what Kyle had told him earlier in the day, and definitely not about what Kyle was saying here and now. Thinking would mean feeling the impact of those words and the fact that Kyle wanted him. No, needed him, and that didn't sound like two guys getting each other off because it'd been a stressful day. His emotions were already all over the place. If he were let himself think about this... No.

So he focused on the kiss and on the feel of Kyle's cock in his hand and on the way that Kyle's hand was making him feel. His strokes were strong but slow. He wasn't in any hurry to get to the next part of this, where there were thoughts and memories and all the bullshit that went with the after.

If he could just come and make Kyle come and then sleep and pretend this day had never happened, that would be good. That would be the best outcome.

All of this is crazy and leaving Kyle feel as if the way that everything has been spinning for days is finally coming to a stop. Focusing on Alex, all of the pain and panic and confusion not mattering when things feel so amazing. Fantasies he had denied himself for years, and now they're real. Real and so much better.

Just kissing Alex is better than he'd dreamt of, but it's like memories and home and he can't stop kissing him. Moaning as he deepens the kiss, all teeth and tongue and a desperation he can't hide.

One that shows in the bucking of his hips, the way his body trembles. Knowing he's close, and not wanting to be. Somewhere deep down he knows that when this ends, it's likely over, and he wants anything but that.

Alex didn't know where he pulled the strength from, but he pushed himself away from Kyle. Maybe it was because somewhere he knew that he was going to let Kyle stay the night and he wanted Kyle to feel as vulnerable as Alex himself felt. So he tugged at Kyle's jeans and then sat up so he could start undoing his own clothes.

"Get undressed." It wasn't quite an order and he definitely wasn't looking Kyle in the eye, but, as he started getting undressed, including getting his prosthetic off, he kept glancing over to watch Kyle's body. Fuck, he was looking good, and that combined with the the way they'd both been that close to getting off meant that Alex hurried to get the rest of his clothes off.

Kyle was done long before Alex was, so when Alex finished getting his underwear off, he slid back onto the bed and reached for Kyle.

Get undressed.

It's not like he hasn't heard those words before. Hell, he's said them often enough. But he's hearing them from Alex Manes, and it's like a half dozen different fantasies coming true and he isn't sure what to do for a minute. Freezing, as he just watches Alex for a minute, staring because he can't believe this is happening.

His heart races, chest already starting to heave a bit as he tries to catch his breath. Giving a shake of his head, making himself focus on what he should be doing and not just staring at Alex and thinking about what he wants. He's here now, and that's more important than what he's fantasized about.

Not bothering to keep track of his clothes as he strips down, settling onto the bed with a soft sound as the combination of air on bare skin, and the sight of Alex naked almost overcomes him.

Arching into his touch, sliding his hand along his side, over the curve of his hip as he leans in, wanting to kiss him once more. No, needing to. It feels utterly like a need welling up within him. Not even second guessing this moment. Maybe tomorrow he'd panic but for now he just wants more.

For thenewnormal, post 1x13 - Spoilers

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