Chapter Text
Michael is lounging on the couch in the cabin, his right arm behind his head, legs haphazardly spread out over the cushions. From where he’s laying, he can see Alex moving around the kitchen, putting away groceries in a sickenly domestic way that Michael had once never thought he would ever get to experience. Shifting his gaze, he looks down at the scarred flesh of his left hand, allowing himself to think of how it all started, and how far they’ve come since then.
“Alex?”
He can feel the smile on his own face as Alex turns just enough to meet Michael’s gaze, and Michael knows, whether it’s fifty years from now, or later tonight, he’s never going to ever tire of getting to see Alex like this. His hair is wild from moments earlier when Michael had pressed him up again the counter to kiss him after arriving home. It’s taken some time for them to get here, and it hasn’t been easy - Michael doesn’t like to think about some of their conversations, and generally avoids reminding himself of the times they’ve yelled at each other, but they’re working on them and being open and honest with one another, and he knows that counts for something - that it counts for everything .
The smile Alex sends back his way is enough to set a plan in motion in Michael’s mind. He pushes himself up off the couch, and strides into the kitchen, crowding Alex up against the counter for the second time, his front pressed up against Alex’s back, hands on Alex’s hips. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to the back of Alex’s head, just savoring being in Alex’s presence, because it really is one of the only things on this planet that makes him happy .
“Let’s get married.”
Alex shifts at the words, spinning around, and Michael lets him so they’re face to face.
“Right now?”
Michael shrugs, because why not? causing Alex to let out a laugh, letting his head drop forward onto Michael’s shoulder, fingers gripping the flesh of Michael’s arms, as if he needs to hold on to ground himself just as Michael does. He hears the calming breath Alex releases, something Michael has learned helps him focus, something learned long ago during his physical therapy and countless sessions learning to handle the PTSD left over from his injury and his time in the Middle East.
Alex lifts his head, pulling back just far enough so that he can stare Michael in the eye, and Michael can’t help himself, he leans forward and presses their lips together. It’s as if, when allowed to be this close to Alex, he’s unable to stop himself from kissing Alex. They’re just two puzzle pieces, slotting together to complete each other, and Michael doesn’t know, has never really figured it out, how to say no to Alex.
He knows he’s come close - so many times over the years as Alex worked through his own demons, and Michael was always there, waiting for him. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how many times Alex walked away, Michael couldn’t say no to Alex. He’s spent too many nights trying to make sense of it, trying to understand their connection, the pull they have toward each other, and why neither of them seem able to fully stay away, and he’s failed every time, electing to give Alex the space he needs instead, always believing, knowing , that they’ll find their way back to each other in the end.
Pulling back from Alex just enough to look him in the eyes again, Michael gently slides his hands up Alex’s arms to cup his face, letting the tips of his fingers dig into the hair at the base of Alex’s neck, grounding him. He watches Alex close his eyes, melting into the feeling, and Michael knows he will never tire of seeing that look of content on Alex's face.
“We can go down to the courthouse-”
“You’re serious,” Alex replies, eyes opening, and Michael wants to live in the way Alex looks at him forever.
It’s not that Michael has ever hated the planet, and it’s inhabitants - it’s that they never did anything good for him. He’s always been relieved that Max and Isobel had an easier life, that they were adopted, they were loved and cared for. But why should he stay in a place that has never wanted him?
The concept of home has never existed for him, not really. Or at least, not until he stole a guitar from the high school music room, and fell in love with a boy with black nail polish and a septum piercing who offered him a place to go on a cold night. Sometimes it feels as though they’ve been through literal hell and back to get where they are, but in the end they still ended up here, together , and Michael thinks that’s really all that matters.
“You know we don’t have to-”
“I want to,” Michael interrupts, pressing their lips together again. And again. And again.
“We need witnesses,” Alex replies finally, hands on Michael’s chest to keep them apart long enough to get a sentence out. “You know Max and Isobel won’t be happy-”
“Do not call them.” Michael shakes his head at the suggestion, because getting Isobel involved with mean a conversation about why they’re getting married at the courthouse on a random Friday instead of letting her plan some elegant affair that no matter how beautifully executed would never be something either Michael or Alex would ever want.
“What about Kyle?”
Michael levels him with a look, but gives in. He’s seen the change in Kyle, especially in how he’s reached out and helped Alex, even extending an olive branch of friendship to try and make up for the way he’d acted in high school. If Alex wants to mend those bridges, Michael isn’t going to stand in the way.
“I’ll call Jenna. She’ll love being included for once,” Michael decides, thinking back to the months working to figure out not only what was wrong with Isobel, but also hunting down an alien serial killer.
“You just want to piss off Max, don’t you?”
Michael doesn’t dignify that with a reply, just leans in once more to kiss Alex, before letting go, and leaving Alex inclined against the counter. He keeps his conversation with Jenna short, certain he hears a bit of confusion in her voice, but that’s to be expected considering he doesn’t tell her the why of his request to meet him at the courthouse in a half hour. He does, however, ask her not to tell Max if, and only if , she happens to see him in the next thirty minutes.
He finds Alex is in the bedroom, changing into a different shirt than the one he was wearing, and Michael stands in the doorway watching him. When Alex catches him, there's a soft smile on his face, and something warm blossoms in Michael's chest that they're here, together, doing this.
“Left Kyle a message.”
Michael nods, taking in the haphazard way Alex's hair is sticking up from changing, and decides that's how he wants him to look when they're standing in front of the justice of the peace. There's a certain giddiness to how Michael feels, and he knows, without even asking, that Alex feels it too. They're different people than they were when they started this whatever at seventeen, but Michael has always been able to read Alex, even when Alex preferred to ignore his own feelings.
Lost in his thoughts, Michael misses the second shirt that's laid out on the bed - a button up in a soft turquoise color - that Alex motions towards with just a look.
Michael doesn't object, and Alex doesn't ask, the request and the acquiescence silently passing between them. Michael yanks his t-shirt over his head, and tosses it in the direction of the laundry basket near the closet, before swiping the shirt and pushing his arms into the sleeves. In an instant, Alex is standing in front of him, maneuvering just enough so that he can work the buttons closed. Michael lets him, feeling the ghost of Alex's fingers through the fabric of the shirt as he does them up, leaving the top three open. But Michael barely notices because he can't stop staring at Alex, caught up in his orbit, still not processing that they're really going to do this, that Alex agreed at all.
They've never talked about getting married, not really. Isobel and Noah have had some rough patches, especially in regards to the alien aspect, but Michael had watched as Noah had stood by Isobel, had refused to not be included, and realized that feeling in his chest from watching them was want - he wanted that. And there's really only ever been one person that's come to mind when he gets that feeling, and sometimes Michael still can't believe it. He knows, without a doubt, that if he could tell his 13 year old self, who had dealt with meth heads and alcoholics and religious fundamentalists, that one day he would find a reason to stay , he would. To let himself know that there is someone worth it all, even for the boy who was always left behind.
Alex runs his hands through Michael's curls, pushing them back, pulling them forward, until he's satisfied with where they've landed, a smile on his face as he leans forward and kisses Michael.
“Let's go,” Alex whispers against his lips, and it takes a certain amount of willpower for Michael to not grab Alex, push him onto the bed and say screw it to this plan.
But they can get lost in each other between the sheets of their bed later. Because there will always be a later for them.
They take Michael's truck, and Michael allows himself to get lost in the sheer amount of memories he has that involve both this truck and Alex. And Alex is leaning against the passenger door, a smile on his face, his head tilted just enough to watch Michael out of the corner of his eye, like he can't look away either.
Jenna is waiting inside the courthouse when they arrive, Noah sitting in the chair next to her - and that's a surprise Michael hadn't considered.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Noah? What are you doing here?” Alex finds his voice first, because Michael is still trying to work out why Jenna brought Noah with her at all , his internal panic rising at the idea that Isobel might be somewhere waiting to yell at him.
“Jenna said you called. Thought you might need a lawyer,” Noah replies, sounding confused as he eyes first, Michael's shirt, then glances over at Alex, who shrugs before making his way over to the clerk.
“I thought you called because you did something stupid and needed a lawyer!” Jenna yells, furious and looking like she's ready to call Max just to spite him. “Especially if I'm not supposed to tell Max!”
Michael can't help but just smile then, because hey, now they've got both their witnesses, and none of them are Valenti or Max or Isobel.
“So what are we doing here?” Noah asks, eyes still darting between Michael and Alex. “Since apparently you don't need a lawyer?”
It's then that Alex beckons Michael over to the clerk, and he's gotta sign some forms for the marriage certificate, leaving both Jenna and Noah standing several feet away bewildered still as to what is going on, but Michael really can't find it in himself to care. They're not gonna be mad anyway when they figure it out, he knows.
Michael feels like he's on cloud nine, as he leans against the wall and watches Alex finish up with the clerk. Alex has his polite smile on, the one that even strangers are drawn to, and Michael loves that about him, that no matter who he's talking to or interacting with, Alex always makes the other person feel like they've got his full attention. When Alex sneaks a glance over at Michael, it's as if there's a complete change in his eyes, and on his face, as if he needs to look at Michael, like he’s drawn in the same way. It’s these kind of looks that make Michael wonder if Alex can read his mind - an impossibility, he knows, and why he’d landed on cosmic all those years ago to describe this feeling, this connection, between them.
It takes until they're walking into the room with the justice of the peace for Noah to exclaim, “Isobel is gonna kill you!” under his breath, and Michael can't find it in himself to care, because the clerk is speaking, and Alex's hands are in his, and Michael can feel Alex gently caressing the damaged skin of his left hand, delicately running his thumb over the mangled bones that were never allowed to heal properly, and all Michael can do is stare back at Alex, get lost in his eyes. He responds with an exasperated fuck yes I do when he realizes he has to verbally agree to marry Alex because honestly they're here and he has never wanted something more in his life, and Alex is rolling his eyes but his lips are upturned into the smile that is meant only for Michael, and Michael can't wait any longer, pressing forward, dropping Alex's hands to cup his face instead and pull Alex into him for a kiss, so desperate to feel Alex even though it's been less than an hour since the last time they kissed.
He doesn't pull away immediately, leans his forehead against Alex's, breathing him in, before whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Alex replies, and Michael can't see his face but he knows he's smiling, because Michael is smiling. It's peaceful and it's perfect, and it's a moment that Michael knows he's never going to forget because it's theirs .
He remembers belatedly, about the ring he’d tucked into the pocket of his jeans before leaving the cabin earlier. It’s a simple silver thing, the hammered metal reflecting indecipherable patterns across it in the light. Something he’d made years ago during a low point while Alex was in Iraq, when Michael couldn’t stop thinking about him, and how much he’d probably fucked up the best thing in his life for good. He’d made the ring in the shop at the junkyard in a fit of loneliness and desperation, a truly absurd amount of alcohol and acetone coursing through his body. He had kept it ever since, unable to ever get rid of the damn thing, but also knowing that it would probably never see the finger of the person it was meant for.
Michael’s glad he was wrong about that, as he holds Alex’s hand and slides the ring on.
“Where’d you-”
Michael shakes his head. It’s not a story for here and now - he’ll tell Alex later.
It fits perfectly, and Michael can’t help but bring Alex’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to where the ring sits perfectly on his finger.
Alex lets his hand drop out of Michael’s grasp, and reaches into the pocket of the jacket he’s wearing - pulling out a tiny black box that he pops open, revealing a ring. It’s silver, but unlike the one Michael had just slid on his finger, it’s smooth and the inside has a shimmering iridescence to it - the same kind of colors that appear in Michael’s alien biology, and reminds him of the pieces of the console from long ago that had been a catalyst to getting them here .
“How long you had that?” Michael jokes, because how can he not.
Alex ignores him, reaching into the box, and removing the ring - it’s attached to a chain, and Michael immediately thinks to his left hand, tears forming in his eyes at the thought that he can’t wear a ring for Alex. But, it seems, Alex has thought ahead - always. With a small smile, he watches Alex lift it out of the box, and lets Alex slide the chain over his head, letting the ring rest against his sternum - the weight feels like a familiar, welcoming presence.
There's some more paperwork, and he lets Alex handle most of it, because as good as he is about keeping track of things, right now his ability to think doesn't stretch much further than Alex. Jenna and Noah sign as witnesses, and then Jenna is snapping pictures on her phone, and Michael knows she's gonna send them off to Max and god-knows-who-else as soon as they leave the courthouse, but he really can't find it in himself to care.
“Okay well, I'm tired of seeing you two like this,” Jenna waves her hand wildly at them, with a smile on her face. “So I'm gonna go find Maria and have a much needed drink. Congrats.”
“Thank you,” Alex replies first, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “Give us a five minute head start before you send those pictures off to Max?”
“No problem.” Michael is only half-listening, most of his attention still only on Alex, as Jenna gently pats his cheek before turning around toward the courthouse entrance, leaving Noah standing there, still catching up with how he managed to get roped into this today.
“Isobel is gonna freak.”
Alex laughs, and Michael watches as he reaches out to shake Noah’s hand. “We’ll let you deal with that.”
When it’s just the two of them, Michael stretches out, and takes Alex’s hand, lacing their fingers together. They walk back to the truck hand in hand, only letting go long enough to climb into the cab. Michael doesn’t feel like anything is different, and yet everything is. It doesn’t surprise him when Alex slides across the bench and presses himself into Michael’s side, needing to eliminate any space between them.
At the first chance he gets, a red light on the way out of town, Michael glances over at Alex, and finds him staring down at the ring on his finger. It’s not admiration, exactly, that’s written all over his face - more like curiosity, like he’s trying to understand the why and how associated with it. Michael lets him be, the story isn’t something he wants to get into while he’s driving, and he also wants to hear Alex’s own tale about the ring hanging from the chain around his own neck.
Michael gets an idea, and makes a turn that signals to Alex they’re not headed back to the cabin at all.
“Where are we going?”
Michael just smiles, and turns to watch the road.