drmcsexy | For thenewnormal, post 1x13

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.

For thenewnormal, post 1x13 - Spoilers

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