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“I can drive home if you want.”
Alex looked over at Michael with annoyance. He very clearly could not drive home. Just walked to the front desk of the motel had him bobbing his head and barely keeping his eyes open.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, “Look, if you’re that determined not to spend the night with me. I’ll sleep in the car.”
“Oh my god, Alex, you’re not sleeping in the car,” he argued limply, dragging his feet harder. Alex didn’t respond.
The two of them had been struggling to get along more than either of them wanted to admit. Michael had asked for time because he couldn’t handle a relationship‒which would’ve been fine if Alex hadn’t caught him with his tongue down Maria’s throat the next day. Because of that, even now months after whatever they were ended, Alex put his efforts in being overly considerate. It was super petty and he knew it made Michael feel bad, but he kept on for his own sake.
It was only getting harder now that they were doing Project Shepard themed road trips together.
“We only have one vacancy,” the guy at the front desk said, looking bored as ever. Which he probably was considering it was almost midnight.
“That’s fine,” Alex said. His eyes drifted to Michael who was slowly drooping with fatigue.
“Just one night?”
“Yeah.”
Alex pulled out his card and, within a few minutes, they were making their way to room 17. Michael almost ran into the wall twice.
“Jesus, how are you that tired?” Alex asked, but it was more rhetorical than anything. They’d been at a military library all day and he had poured himself into countless tales of detailed Antarian torture methods. Alex would’ve been more shocked if he wasn’t emotionally drained.
“I’ll be fine,” Michael whispered, his voices soft and sweet that it pissed Alex off. Instead of giving that any unneeded attention, he unlocked the door.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Alex groaned. Of course. Why would things go his way? Why would anything go well for him? Now he was stuck in a tiny hotel room with his ex.
And there was only one bed.
“I’ll go sleep in the car,” Michael said once he noticed it. It wasn’t even a big bed. It was probably a queen, just big enough for them both to fit without touching. And Alex knew better than anyone they were both horrible at not touching.
“No, no, sleep in the bed. I’ll… sleep in the chair or something,” Alex sighed. Michael grunted, shaking his head.
“No, Alex, I’m not letting you do that. You take the bed,” he said, rubbing his eye. Alex shoved him towards the bed and he had nothing in him to stop himself from fighting it, falling to the bed with a soft thud. Michael grunted which annoyingly got Alex to smile. “We can share, Alex, I don’t want you sleeping in some fucked way ‘cause of me.”
“It won’t be because of you.”
“Yeah huh, ‘cause you’re all mad at me for being a fucking dick and won’t sleep next to me,” he said. Alex sighed as he weighed his options. He really did not want to sleep in the chair or in the truck‒his body was not as forgiving as it once had been. And it would be only one night.
He could handle one night.
“Fine,” Alex complied, unbuttoning his jeans before he sat down carefully so he could take off his prosthetic, “But don’t touch me or I’ll push you off.”
“That’s the meanest thing you’ve said to me in months,” Michael whispered, but the smile was evident in his voice. God damn it. “I won’t, Alex. My hands are kept to myself.”
Alex watched as Michael limply dragged himself to the edge of the bed, not even bothering to undress or get under the blanket first. He was asleep within a minute and Alex shook his head, working himself out of his jeans. Before he could slip off the prosthetic, his eyes drifted to the bathroom area.
He felt gross and would’ve killed for a shower, but he wasn’t about to even try to. He knew it wouldn’t be very accommodating and the last thing he wanted was the fall or something and have to deal with that embarrassment. Besides, staying gross would make it a lot easier to stay away from Michael. He wouldn’t want to have sex or anything with a layer of grime on him. Especially in a very questionable bed.
Still, Alex made his way to the sink and took a washcloth, wetting it and wiping his face and armpits down. He ran a wet hand through his hair too as a way to pretend to wash away the dried sweat. Once he was done, he went to the edge of the bed. He pulled off the prosthetic and the sock followed, the cold air hitting his limb like a relaxing breath. He placed the metal securely on his side before looking over to Michael.
Without much thought, Alex removed his shoes to reveal worn socks that had holes exposing a few toes. He shook his head with an annoyingly adoring smile. He would have to get him socks for Christmas. Or nothing for Christmas because that wasn’t his job to get him Christmas presents. Or maybe he would just to make him feel bad.
Alex delicately pulled the blanket out from beneath Michael’s body, covering him up before he got beneath him himself. He faced away from Michael as he laid down, closing his eyes as he hoped to just get this over with. The sooner he got to sleep, the sooner he’d stop thinking about his body heat and his stupidly cute toes and his perfect hair and his sad face and him. Then he could wake up and not have to acknowledge that he slept hardly a foot away from him and didn’t touch.
Or, he tried not to touch.
Alex was successful in not moving, but Michael’s agreement to stay on his side of the bed lasting a whole 30 minutes at best. Just as Alex was starting to dose off‒which was probably as good as it would get in a room he didn’t know‒Michael edged closer. He was definitely asleep, but Alex couldn’t remember if he’d ever moved in his sleep before or if this was new.
He was startled awake when a heavy arm threw itself around his shoulders, an unscarred hand dangling in front of his face. Alex took a deep breath as he stared at it. He hated looking at it more than he did whenever it was messed up. He knew the pain it still caused Michael, only now there was nothing to show for it. He’d felt first hand the battle that was feeling pain that shouldn’t be there.
Part of him wanted to grab the hand, but the logical part of him knew he should shove him away. They weren’t supposed to be touching. It was Alex’s rule. But, fuck, he wanted to touch.
Before he could make the decision, the hand was snatched away. Michael’s movements got more and more frequent until he was eventually whimpering. Alex couldn’t ignore it and turned to face him, just in time to see him fly up with panicked breaths. Alex sat up after him, every single issue he had with the man vanishing as he instinctively moved to comfort him.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, I’m here, it’s okay,” Alex cooed softly as Michael frantically looked around, wheezes mixing with his heavy breaths. Once he spotted Alex, he seemed to remember where he was and his shoulders slumped. A pathetic whine came from Michael’s throat as he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands. Alex carefully put his hand on his back, rubbing softly as his other hand moved to grab Michael’s. “You’re okay, I’m here.”
Alex had more than his fair share of nightmares. After what Michael had been reading that day, he wasn’t all that surprised that it gave him some of his own.
“Sorry,” Michael whispered hoarsely, allowing himself to relax into Alex’s touch. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t revel in the way Michael felt against his chest after so long.
“Don’t apologize.”
“I woke you up.”
“No, I wasn’t sleeping.”
Michael squeezed Alex’s hand tightly, sighing against his neck. Alex’s hand moved to the back of his neck where he gently played with the curls at the nape of his neck. Eventually, he laid him back down and letting him stay firmly against his chest.
“Wanna talk about it?” Alex asked and Michael immediately shook his head. Alex dropped it.
He hated how he caved. He hated how he let his rules drop to the wayside the minute Michael seemed upset. He hated how Michael had slowly made him fall in love again during their Project Shepard road trips. He hated how Michael could only apologize and let Alex keep treating him like shit while he did his best. He hated how easy it was to hold him. He hated so many choices they’d made.
But he loved the way it felt to hold him again.