drmcsexy | For thenewnormal, post 1x13

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.

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