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RNM Fanfic Remix 2021
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2021-05-07
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1/1
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Alex Manes is Trying

Summary:

This is my RNM Fanfic Remix. I matched with skinsharpenedteeth, and this is a remix of their story "Michael Guerin is a Grower." This is the same plotline, told from Alex's perspective. Please see the original story for Michael's perspective.

In this story, Alex makes the decision to apply for a PTSD service dog. His application is accepted, and he's required to go to Florida for three weeks for training. He asks Michael to house-sit while he's gone.

Also, giving credit where it's due, 99.9% of all Alex/Michael dialogue and texting is skinsharpenedteeth's! Enjoy!

Work Text:

“Honestly? I miss his dog way more than I miss him.” Alex leans back in his chair, shakes his head. “Like, that says something, right?”

 

Dr. Delmont is looking at him, expression a little too calm. “What does it say to you?” he finally asks.

 

Alex shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe I should get a dog?” He’s going for a joking tone, but it comes off sounding melancholy.

 

Dr. Delmont looks thoughtful. “What’s appealing about a dog?”

 

“I dunno. I… I like the idea of it, like the idea of that, um, affection. Loyalty. And at night, sometimes, I can feel a little vulnerable. I mean, we’ve talked about that, with the nightmares and stuff. Plus my leg’s off at night.” He bites his lip. “I’ve never had a dog before. My dad wasn’t into that.” He looks down at the floor. “My friend growing up had one though. Trained hunting dog, a black lab. She was a sweetheart.” Alex huffs out a sigh. “Not sure who would trust me with a dog, though.”

 

Dr. Delmont frowns. “Trust you?”

 

Ugh. He should have known that the self-deprecation wouldn’t go unnoticed. “I, I’ve heard stories about people trying to adopt a dog, like from a shelter, and there just being all these hoops. Don’t think I’m cut out for that.”

 

Dr. Delmont cocks his head to the side, seems to consider something. “You know, Alex,” he says slowly, “there are a number of programs that provide trained companion animals to veterans. The VA doesn’t directly provide service animals to veterans, but we get enough inquiries about it that we’ve put a fact sheet together. Would you want a copy?”

 

Alex takes a moment, considers the question. “Sure.”

 

***

 

A dog’s always been a “pie in the sky” kind of idea for him. He knew there was no way, growing up - when Jesse said no, he fucking meant it. And Jesse continued to be an impediment, even after Alex was sent to Roswell for what would surely be his last duty station. It was always clear to Alex that if his father knew he cared about anything, it would be nothing but leverage in Jesse’s eyes. He… he’d already seen, time and again just how cruelly destructive his father could be. Shame on Alex, should he bring a dog into Jesse’s crosshairs.

 

But now Dad's dead. And Alex is here, in Roswell, newly discharged and seriously wondering what to do with the rest of his life.

 

He eyes the handout Dr. Delmont gave him and types in the name of the first organization.

 

***

 

“So. Some of those websites were really fucking ableist.”

 

Dr. Delmont’s eyes widen. “Oh no. I’m sorry, Alex. Would you mind telling me which ones?” He looks sheepish. “I’ll admit, I haven’t actually visited all those websites myself - this was just the standard handout the Albuquerque VA provides. I appreciate you letting me know, though - we will need to update it.”

 

Alex nods his acknowledgment. “These were the worst,” he says, pointing to two of the organizations on the list. “But there were some good ones, too.”

 

Dr. Delmont is writing in his notebook. “Again, thank you for letting me know.” He sets down his own and looks at Alex. “Is this something you might want to pursue?” 

 

“Well… I actually filled out an application for one of the sites. Haven’t heard back yet.”

 

Dr. Delmont can’t conceal his surprise. “Wow! That’s a big step. How are you feeling about it?”

 

“Honestly?” Alex says. “Part of me feels like there’s no way they’re gonna give some poor dog to me.”

 

***

 

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me, Captain Manes,” the woman, Teri, says, voice bright and chipper.

 

“Please, call me Alex.”

 

“Excellent! As I mentioned in my email, we’ve reviewed your application and are excited to let you know that you’ve been accepted into our Vet Canine program.”

 

“That’s, that’s great news,” he says, and he thinks he means it.

 

“I have a few questions for you at this time. First and foremost, will you be able to attend a three week training at our campus in Ft. Myers, Florida? Our earliest availability is in May, and we intentionally keep class sizes small to facilitate training and group bonding.”

 

“Um, yes,” Alex says, barely hesitating.

 

“Fantastic! All lodging and meals are provided. I will pass your contact information along to our training staff, and they’ll be able to provide you with more detailed information about your stay.”

 

She pauses, clearly expecting a response, so Alex provides one. “Great,” he says, trying to convey his enthusiasm for the plan while dialing back some of his lingering disbelief that this is actually happening.

 

“For my next question, I do need to inquire about your ability to provide for a dog, financially.  As you know, we rely on the generosity of donors to provide these animals free of charge to veterans. That being said, we estimate that costs can run approximately $100 a month for the dog’s care. Is that realistic for you?”

 

“Yes, I believe it is,” Alex says. “I’m 100% service-connected, and my particular skill set from the Air Force is one that is also in demand outside of the military.”

 

“Excellent. While the three-week training program provides a great base, our service dogs do need to follow specific training programs and schedules. Is that something you can commit to?”

 

“Um, well, I don’t really have a good sense of what that would look like, but I’m committed to trying my very best.”

 

“Great. And finally, will you be able to provide for the dog’s physical and emotional needs, and do you have support people in place in the event that you are unable to provide for these needs?” 

 

Alex pauses at the question, startled to realize that the person he thinks of is Michael. He has no clue if Michael likes dogs at all, but he can’t imagine Michael turning him down, not if he really needed the help.

 

Alex swallows. Maria would help too, of course. Or Greg.

 

“Alex?” comes Teri’s voice, sounding a bit concerned.

 

“Oh, uh, yes. Yes, I could provide for the dog’s needs. And I have friends that could help me if needed, I’m sure.”

 

***

 

“You’ll be happy to hear that your job is secure,” Alex says wryly.

 

Dr. Delmont quirks an eyebrow. “I’m a VA psychologist. I work for the federal government. I had no idea my job was in jeopardy.”

 

Alex rolls his eyes. “I got accepted. Well, my application did, for a service dog. And as part of the conditions of the contract, since I, um, I was specifically approved for a PTSD service dog, I have to be enrolled in therapy.”

 

“Thoughts on that?”

 

“I mean, I guess it makes sense. I read it costs a lot of money to train these dogs. I suppose they want to protect their investments.”

 

The corner of Dr. Delmont’s mouth twitches a little. “And how do you feel about being accepted?”

 

Alex sighs. “A part of me is really excited. I’ve always wanted a dog. But a part of me…”

 

“Yes?”

 

Alex rolls his shoulders. “I have to attend a three week training program down in Florida. I mean, I get why it’s necessary, but I don’t really know what to expect. Plus I’m gonna need someone to check in on my house for me, water the plants, that kind of thing.”

 

“Have anyone in mind?”

 

***

 

Should have asked Maria, Alex thinks as he stares at his phone. His finger hovers over Michael’s contact before he finally presses it.

 

“It’s Michael.”

 

His voice sounds relaxed, not out of breath, which Alex takes as a good sign. “Hey Michael,” Alex replies, feeling a little on edge. He’s taken care of everything else for this trip - airport transportation, plane tickets, he’s even started to pack - but he’s been putting this off. Talking to Michael.

 

“Hey,” Michael says, and Alex can hear the wariness. Things have been fine between the two of them. Fine. Michael clears his throat. “What can I do for you?”

 

Alex pauses, reacting to the question. Leave it to Michael to assume Alex needs something from him. But the more Alex thinks about it, it’s fair, right? It’s not like he and Michael have ever really had a relationship where one calls the other just to talk… “I’m going out of town for three weeks. I, uh…” He trails off, feeling awkward. It’s not like he discusses this with other people. With Michael. “I got approved to get a service dog for my PTSD. The facility is out in Florida. They’ve got a 21 day training program for me and the dog,”

 

“That’s… that’s great, Alex,” Michael says, and Alex relaxes a bit at how genuine Michael sounds. “I’m really happy to hear that. I bet you’re going to be an obnoxious dog dad, though,” he adds, laughing. “Should I go ahead and prepare my phone for the onslaught of dog pics?”

 

The teasing puts Alex at ease. “Jerk,” he says, feeling himself start to smile. “I don’t even know what kind of dog I’m getting. I won’t know until I get there.”

 

“Well, you’ll have to send me a photo the moment you can.”

 

“I will, man.” Alex pauses. Time to actually ask. “But, the, uh, the reason I called is cause I need someone to watch the house. Like, water the plants, pick up the mail, make sure a nest of scorpions doesn’t move in unexpectedly…” 

 

“Ohhhh, now I know why you called,” Michael says, and Alex is relieved that he still sounds so amused. “Alex Manes needs a favor from me, huh? Water the plants? Pick up the mail? This sounds like a lot of hard work,” Michael says playfully.

 

“I’ll pay you in dog pictures and pizza money,” Alex offers smoothly.

 

“Pizza money? Why didn’t you say so? You’ve got a deal, Manes. When do you leave?”

 

Alex winces internally. If he’d known how well this conversation was going to go, he would have called a week ago, not procrastinated till the very last minute. “In two days,” Alex says, bracing for a reaction. When none comes, he adds hastily, “You can drop by tomorrow if you want and I’ll give you a key.”

 

“Al-lex,” Michael says, exaggerated. “I’m an alien. I can pick locks with my brain.”

 

Alex lets out a light little laugh. This… is going so well. He decides to push it a little.  “Well, maybe I can pay you up front with some pizza and beer then?” he asks, trying desperately to keep his tone casual.

 

“Now we’re talking. Okay. I’ll come by tomorrow around six thirty. Sound good?”

 

“Yeah,” Alex says, aware that he should wrap this up before Michael’s enthusiasm propels him into further foolishness. “See you then.”

 

“See you then.”

 

***

 

He hates that he feels this nervous over a goddamn pizza.

 

He and Michael don’t really “hang out” alone, not since they were kids and Michael was living in Alex’s toolshed, and look how that ended. Alex hates that he’s thinking of that, right now, marvels at that memory’s ability to infiltrate the most benign of circumstances…

 

He sighs, refocuses on what he’s doing. The house is in good order - it always is, but it’s even neater now, in preparation for his return in three weeks with a new dog. And, if he’s being honest, there’s a certain pressure, knowing Michael’s going to be spending time, alone, at his place. He’d already spent far too long debating over whether to hide his condoms, lube, and toys a little better. Predictably, they were in his nightstand drawer. He’s never used them here, with Michael, though. Ultimately he leaves them where they are. It’s not like anything of that nature really shocks Michael. It’s on him if he goes snooping. Would Michael snoop? If roles were reversed, Alex certainly would, at least a little bit…

 

Knock knock.

 

Shit. Alex glances at the clock. Michael’s early, by at least ten minutes. He’s dressed for comfort - sweats on, prosthetic off. He uses his crutches to make his way to the front door, flings it open, and there’s Michael.

 

“Hey man,” Alex says, going for casual.  “Thanks for coming.  I was about to order the pizza.  Still a pepperoni pineapple guy?” he asks.  He shuts the door behind Michael after he enters.  Michael’s eyes are darting all around, taking everything in, and not for the first time Alex feels a twinge of guilt that this is the first time he’s ever invited Michael inside. 

 

Turns out it had been far easier to let Michael into his body than into his home.

 

“Yeah,” Michael says, and the way he looks, running his hands through his hair and smiling nervously makes Alex’s breath hitch. “I’m still pepperoni and pineapple, but seriously I’ll eat anything so get whatever you want.”

 

Thing is, Alex knows it’s true. Knows about Michael’s struggles, his lean times, and doesn’t doubt for a moment that Michael would eat whatever Alex sets in front of him, regardless of personal preference.  There’s something unsettling about the thought, and Alex quickly changes the subject.

 

“So,” he says, gesturing toward the living room, “I’ve got a snake plant in here by the window and a dragon plant in the corner over here. I’ve got an inch plant on the counter that I’m trying not to kill, but if I come back and it’s dead, no big deal,” he says, babbling on.  “I’m doing a pretty good job killing it on my own, and it’s supposed to be one of those foolproof plants.  I don’t know what I’m doing wrong with it.”  

 

He doesn’t care if Michael kills his plants, he really doesn’t, but he’s heartened to see Michael peering at the plant, brow furrowed.  He’s obviously taking it seriously.  Michael turns to him, looks like he’s about to say something, and Alex pivots.  

 

“Let me order that pizza!”

 

***

 

Florida’s hot in a way New Mexico rarely is - the air’s muggy and dense, and Alex can feel his t-shirt sticking to him. His last trip to Florida had been years ago - an official training at Patrick AFB followed by a very unofficial three hour road trip down to Miami which had… served its purpose quite admirably.

 

He’s at the Tampa airport now, waiting for the shuttle that will take him down to Ft. Myers. There’s another guy sitting just inside the baggage claim area that also looks ex-military; Alex figures he may be headed down to the training facility too, but he doesn’t inquire. Instead, he turns over the events of the last few days in his mind. 

 

Everything had gone well with the pizza - so well, in fact, that it had Alex questioning why they were even doing this “friend” dance when it seemed so obvious they both wanted more. When Michael offered to drive him to the airport, there wasn’t a single small part of him that wanted to say no. In fact, a noisy, familiar, inconvenient part wanted to beg him to come along, the way he’d wanted to on the many occasions he was returning to his duty stations. He could see it on Michael’s face, too - the memories of Alex’s many past departures were still too solid, too unprocessed to ignore. But this was different. 

 

It was different, wasn’t it?

 

Of course it’s different, Alex chastises himself. This was a choice he was making, for himself, a good , healthy choice. There was nothing dangerous about three weeks of dog training in Florida, and most importantly, he was coming back.

 

He wonders if Michael’s in his house right now.

 

“Captain Alex Manes?” comes a gruff voice, and Alex is a bit embarrassed to have been caught so unaware. 

 

“That’s me,” he says, extending a hand to the older man standing a few feet away, “and Alex is fine.”

 

“Alright Alex. Thank you for your service.”

 

Alex nods politely.

 

“I’m Kevin - I was Air Force, too, once upon a time.  I’ll be driving you and a few other folks down to Ft. Myers. We’ve got some dogs down there that are real excited to meet you folks.”

 

Alex smiles, and is pleased to realize he doesn’t have to force it at all. “Sounds great.”

 

***

 

Alex is lying in bed, grinning. This was… well, it was one of the best days. No qualifications. He’d met his new dog, named his new dog. There’s excitement, of course, but also a profound sense of responsibility for this clever, trusting animal. Alex wants to feel worthy of it, and he wants to share the thrill of it. Share it with Michael. 

 

<Alex> So I got my dog today. It’s a Goldendoodle. 

 

He’s pleased to see the three little dots display almost immediately. Michael’s typing. It’s earlier in New Mexico, and that brings him back, the calculation of it. How many thousands of times has he done that, reflexively added or subtracted the hours to Michael…

 

<Michael> A what now? 

 

Alex laughs, can picture Michael’s face.

 

<Alex> LOL. A Golden retriever/Poodle mix. 

 

He thinks about the next sentence. 

 

<Alex> He’s got curls like yours, but he’s that ginger blond most golden retrievers are. He’s cute. 

 

He bites his lip, wondering how Michael’s going to take it, being compared to a dog. 

 

<Michael> I don’t know why I haven’t received a pic yet. Holding out on me, Manes? 

 

Alex grins, thumbs through the nearly 50 pictures he’s taken just today. 

 

<Alex> Picture Sent 

 

<Michael> What’s his name? 

 

Alex types the message, holds his breath. 

 

<Alex> Cowboy

 

<Michael> Why Cowboy? 

 

It’s a reasonable question. And Alex is feeling loose, relaxed. Hopeful, even?

 

<Alex> His curls remind me of yours.

 

And fuck it, he’s feeling a little horny, too.

 

<Alex> And he gets very affectionate when you praise him, just like someone else I know. 

 

There’s a pause, too long, and Alex is wishing he hadn’t said anything, made up some bullshit about that being the name Cowboy came with…

 

<Michael> Just make sure he knows whose leg that is to hump. I won’t take kindly to competition. He’s already got me beat on talking back and following directions. 

 

Holy shit. Well. So much for being worried about that last message...

 

<Alex> Jesus, Michael.

 

As in, “Jesus, Michael, now that’s all I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.” Alex doesn’t know what he expects after that - maybe another over-the-top comment? Michael’s always been good for his ego, but never more than after his injury. When Michael’d told him nothing had changed, after the reunion, Alex had fucking believed it. 

 

So it’s a little… disappointing, now, that nothing follows. Nothing but silence. 

 

Alex gives himself five minutes, then five minutes more. 

 

<Alex> I’m going to bed. 

 

He’s given Michael an opening, he knows, and he waits, half-expecting a “wish I was there.”

 

Still nothing. Alex exhales a pent-up breath. He might be busy. Even if he’s not, it’s not like Michael owes him anything. And Michael may not have even meant anything by the text. Michael’s always been suggestive, flirtatious… and not just with Alex.

 

They’re friends. They’re friends who apparently water each other’s plants, now. Get the mail.

 

<Alex> I’ll talk to you later, okay? 

 

<Michael> Night. 

 

So he is there. Just not responding.

 

<Alex> Night. 

 

***

 

Time’s gone fast, in Florida. The first week focused on basic obedience training, as well as specialized techniques for handling their service dogs. There was a whole simulated street set up, and Alex got to work with Cowboy in a variety of scenarios.

 

To his surprise, he actually enjoyed being with the other veterans. The atmosphere at the training facility had lacked the machismo and posturing that unfortunately accompanied many military-related settings, but there was still a strong sense of purpose and camaraderie. Alex supposed that everyone here had seen some shit, in one way or another, and it put him at ease.

 

Week two had started with more advanced reward and motivation techniques. Alex feels like he’s hit the lottery with Cowboy. It’s amazing how comfortable they are with each other after only a week. 

 

Sometimes he wonders if things could have been different for him and Michael if they’d ever actually gotten a normal, uninterrupted week together.

 

Alex sets up his tablet and begins the login procedures for his Telehealth appointment with Dr. Delmont. They’d agreed to check in midway through the training program, and Alex can’t believe his stay here is already halfway done. 

 

Dr. Delmont’s face suddenly appears on screen, larger than Alex was expecting.

 

“Hello Alex,” Dr. Delmont says. 

 

“Hi,” Alex replies.

 

“Just need to confirm your current county, in the event of an emergency.”

 

“God, I have no idea,” Alex says, frowning. “I’m in Ft. Myers, Florida. At the training.”

 

Dr. Delmont looks like he’s googling something. “I’m getting Lee County. Sound right?”

 

“Sure,” Alex shrugs.

 

“And I just need to confirm that you are in a private location.”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Excellent,” Dr. Delmont says, nodding his head. “So how have you been?”

 

Alex gives a little smile. “I’m good! I really am. I have a new dog. He’s named Cowboy, and he’s just… he’s really great. It’s a great fit. There’s a lot to learn, but it’s going well.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that, Alex. I know that, before you left, you’d been concerned about being in Florida for three weeks.”

 

“Honestly, it’s been flying by, and everyone’s been really nice here. There’s a certain… understanding, if that makes sense.”

 

“Understanding?”

 

Alex nods. “We’re all veterans. We’ve all, I dunno, been through it. It’s just nice to not have to deal with certain kinds of questions, certain attention. And ultimately, everyone’s here for their dogs. People are really focused on that.”

 

“It sounds like it’s been a good experience.”

 

“For sure.”

 

“How does it feel knowing you’re at the halfway point?”

 

Alex’s mouth twists a little. “I… I’m looking forward to bringing Cowboy home.”

 

Dr. Delmont says nothing, just stares at him expectantly.

 

Alex rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’m kind of nervous to go back.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Well, there’s the desert, number one. What if Cowboy hates it? Like, it’s a totally different world from Florida.” Alex swallows. “And… I asked Michael to watch my house while I’m down here.”

 

The statement hangs in the air. It’s only been recently in his course of therapy that he’s mentioned Michael.  He reads all of Dr. Delmont’s notes, and he’s been pleased that they are usually very vague: “Veteran discussed interpersonal relationships.” It’s not that he’s comfortable disclosing information about Michael to a federal employee, but he also knows that he’s stuck with Delmont, now, thanks to Cowboy, so he might as well talk about the shit that really matters to him. And god, Michael matters .

 

“What’s making you feel nervous about Michael watching your house?”

 

Alex swallows, considers the question. “It just… it feels like a big deal. To ask him to do it.”  He closes his eyes. “I’m trying to be friends with him. And this is something a friend would do, right?”

 

Dr. Delmont looks at him. “You have other friends. You have a brother. Why did you ultimately ask Michael?”

 

“I wanted…god, I wanted to show him I trust him.”  Alex bites his lip a little, feels the familiar creep of regret. “I used to think he was…” It hurts. Hurts to say to someone else what he’s said to Michael. “I used to think he was wasting his life. And I told him so.” There’s an awkward silence that Alex knows Dr. Delmont is going to make him break. “It’s just, I would come back on leave, and he was always just there. In our shitty town. He… he’s a genius, like a real genius. He could have done anything and it… it frustrated me to no end that he stayed there.” Alex rubs at the space between his eyebrows. “And I don’t, I don’t think that anymore. I know now that Michael had his reasons for staying. Like, very compelling reasons. But that doesn’t erase the shit I said to him.”

 

“You sound angry,” Dr. Delmont said. “At yourself.”

 

Alex scoffs. “Well yeah. Yeah I’m angry. Like, I’m Michael’s asshole ex. And he’s my asshole ex. And I just… I just don’t know what we do about that.”

 

“Well,” Dr. Delmont ventures, “you’re here, actually talking about it.”

 

“I am,” Alex sighs.

 

***

 

<Michael>You don’t really have any outdoor plants. 

 

Alex frowns a bit, texts back.

 

<Alex> I hate to break this to you, but getting up and down from my knees is kind of a pain in the ass. It’s not impossible, but it makes the prospect of gardening a little harder to stomach. It seems like a lot of work and a lot of pain pills. 

 

His mouth twists a little at the disclosure. He doesn’t talk about his pain much, with other people. Tries his best to hide it. But he’s kind of… sick of hiding, with Michael. 

 

Michael. Thinking about him makes Alex smile a little. He can’t believe he’ll be seeing him in a week. It reminds him a little of the old Air Force days, counting down to leave. To Michael.

 

<Alex> Getting bored with my three little plants?

 

Not for the first time, Alex thinks of the unattended sex drawer, at his house. Thinks of Michael having free rein over it.

 

<Alex> Need something more to entertain you?

 

Michael doesn’t take the bait. Maybe this really is just about plants… Alex wants to talk to Michael. Wants to have real conversations that go beyond government conspiracies and double entendres.

 

<Alex> Besides, while flowers are great and all… I kinda feel like the only outdoor gardening that interests me would be like… vegetables or herbs or something. Something useful. 

 

<Michael> Yeah? What would you grow in your vegetable garden? 

 

What would he grow? A garden always seemed pretty far from reach, for lots of reasons.

 

<Alex> Hm. Peppers, squash, tomatoes, maybe cucumbers or something. I don’t really know what grows in New Mexico? This is the first time I’ve been anywhere long enough to consider something that permanent. 

 

<Michael> A vegetable garden equals permanence? 

 

He’s been so… impermanent , with Michael. Even right now, as they are shifting from talk of gardens to the talk of real, emotional shit, he wants to run - end the text chain, change the subject. But a strengthening part of him wants to stay. Wants to try.

 

<Alex> In some ways, yeah. I mean, it’s pretty hard to pick it up and take it with you on the drop of a dime. It still feels weird to imagine that I’m not going anywhere unless I make the decision to leave. It’s comforting and terrifying. 

 

<Michael> Interesting. 

 

Alex isn’t sure how to interpret that, so he turns it back on Michael.

 

<Alex> What about you? 

 

<Michael> I’m thinking about trying to have a garden behind the Airstream. Just some simple stuff at first like peppers or something. I love the idea of being able to grow my own food. Something like that would’ve made the lean years a little less lean if I’d had my wits about me. 

 

Alex feels the familiar ache of guilt and concern, hearing about Michael’s lean years. 

 

<Alex> Ah, age and experience. 

 

<Michael> Right. Age and experience.

 

A moment passes without any further communication, and this could be it for the night, a natural petering out… but Alex doesn’t want it to be. He knows Michael. Knows what to send him that will keep him talking.

 

<Alex> picture sent 

 

<Alex> Me and cowboy earlier today. He’s so smart. 

 

<Michael> Another thing he has in common with his namesake. ;) 

 

Alex tries to just let himself accept the compliment, allow himself to believe that Michael means it. 

 

<Michael> God you look good. Florida’s treating you well. 

 

Mission accomplished, honestly. Alex knew it was a good picture of him, knew he was sending his own private version of a thirst trap. And this compliment… well. This one’s easy to accept - easier, he should say. Because hasn’t Michael proven, time and again, his attraction to Alex? That physical want… that was never the problem, in and of itself. 

 

Alex licks his lips. He could take this in a few directions, here. The easy, well-worn sexting path. Or the newer, “Let’s actually do some talking” path.

 

<Alex> I think Cowboy and being around the other veterans is helping. It certainly makes a better argument for group therapy than my doctor did. 

 

He and Dr. Delmont have already agreed on a course of individual therapy, but he keeps mentioning his PTSD support group to Alex. For “maintenance “ after they’re done working one-on-one.

 

<Michael> Thinking about finding a group when you get back? 

 

It feels weird to discuss this with anyone. He wishes he could know what Michael’s thinking about it.

 

<Alex> Maybe. We’ll see. Maybe it’s just the effect of the dog. 

 

<Michael> When are you flying in again? Still okay for me to pick you up? 

 

He’s grateful for the subject change, and god, of course it’s fine. More than fine, really…

 

<Alex> Yeah it’s fine. Next Sunday, 10 a.m. Delta. I’ll email you the flight details. 

 

<Michael> Does Cowboy have to ride in the airplane’s hold or does he get a seat next to you? 

 

<Alex> He gets to sit next to me. 

 

<Michael> Lucky dog. 

 

Alex feels the familiar rush of want. He… he hopes this means something to Michael, hopes it’s not just Michael’s unpracticed friend mode.

 

<Alex> How long have you been waiting to make that joke? 

 

<Michael> How dare you insinuate that I plan my jokes beforehand. 

 

<Alex>.... 

 

<Michael> LOL. No really, just thought of it. Pretty good though. Definite Dad joke material. 

 

Dad joke. Alex takes a deep breath at that, and (not for the first time), imagines Michael as a father. He… he thinks he’d be a good one.

 

<Alex> And on that note, I’m going to go to bed. Talk to you later. 

 

<Michael> Night 

 

<Alex> Night.

 

Alex stares at the phone. Rereads the whole conversation. More than once. Goes to bed and dreams of Michael. Michael and Cowboy and a curly-headed boy, chasing each other around Alex’s patio.

 

***

 

“Did you get the stuff I asked for from the pet store?” Alex asks. They’re in Michael’s truck, getting close to the house. Alex winces a little when he hears how the question sounds, a little too pointed to his ears. Mainly, he’s trying to decide if he needs to make a special trip today, or if he can just relax with Cowboy, introduce him to the house.

 

Michael clears his throat.  “Yeah, I got the stuff.” Alex can feel his body relax a little - Michael doesn’t seem put out by the question. “Kennel, food, bowls, bed, toys… the works. I put it all in your bedroom. I wasn’t sure where you wanted everything to go so I figured that would be easiest…” 

 

Michael guides the truck into Alex’s driveway, shuts off the engine. Alex is just starting to plan how to get everything out of the truck and into the house when Michael makes a move to open his door. It surprises Alex. “Oh, you’re staying for a while?” 

 

He sees immediately that it’s landed wrong.  Michael seems to have just… frozen in place, his face unreadable. Alex opens his mouth, about to try to clarify, but Michael beats him to it.

 

 “I… I mean, I was going to stay for a couple minutes. Help you get your stuff in the house. Show you…. How well I took care of your plants and stuff,” Michael says. Alex hates how unsure he sounds, and he feels the familiar rush of anger, at himself.  Thinks back over the years to all the times they’ve met up for sex, to the fact that Michael’s just watched his empty house for three weeks. That he’s surprised Michael’s staying, that Michael’s unsure Alex would allow him to say… it’s fucked up. He doesn’t like it, and he wants things to be different. Needs them to be different.

 

Alex breathes deeply, trying to chase away his anger and frustration that they’re still right here, after all these years, all the “age and experience,” as he’d put it the other day.

 

 “No, it’s fine,” he says, trying to catch Michael’s eye, show him how much he means it. He tries to make his body appear loose, open. “I just didn’t know if you had anything else going on today. Thought maybe you needed to get to the junkyard. Come in, you can tell me about all the drama I missed.” But that’s not really the heart of the matter, is it? Alex gets out of the truck carefully, then pivots to face Michael. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re unwanted. I just didn’t think you’d want to hang around.”

 

Michael shakes his head, lets out a weary sigh. “Of course I do, Alex.” He swallows, and Alex can see the effort he’s making to shake off the melancholy. “I need you to get the vest off this dog so he and I can have a Come To Jesus over you,” Michael jokes, and Alex decides to just go with it, not push things further. For now. 

 

He busies himself with Cowboy, and doesn’t comment as Michael hangs back at the truck, ostensibly getting Alex’s luggage. Alex walks Cowboy into the courtyard, and freezes.

 

It… it looks like a fucking paradise. There are plants, so many of them, in beautiful standing planter boxes. Alex grips the back of his outdoor dining chair, just trying to take it all in. “Uh… Michael?” He hears Michael’s footfalls drawing closer, and he gestures around the courtyard, newly lush and fertile. “What is all this?”

 

Michael looks nervous. “I, uh… I made you a vegetable garden. It doesn’t have all that stuff you listed. It’s basically a salsa garden with more herbs. I, uh… I had help,” he says with a shrug. “Walt helped me put the boxes together and Isobel supervised.” Alex can feel his eyes widening as he hears about all the thought, all the planning… all the care that Michael put into this. 

 

“If you don’t want it, I can take them out,” Michael continues. “I just... thought maybe you’d like them.” Michael looks up, finally, and Alex can see the uncertainty, mingled with hope.

 

Alex must stare at him a beat too long, because he can see the instant Michael’s face falls, and the instant Michael tries to hide. “Look, I can take them out if you don’t like them. It was stupid of me to assume you’d - “


Alex moves toward Michael, fully into his personal space.  Keeps going.  He… he’s going to communicate with Michael in their first language, the one they’ve always understood. Wrapping his arms around Michael, he pulls him in for a kiss.  

 

To Alex’s relief, Michael kisses back. Automatically and unsubtly.  Alex allows himself to enjoy it, the feel of Michael’s mouth on his, then pulls back, just a little. 

 

This may be their first language, but it’s not their only one.

 

“It’s great,” Alex says, smiling at Michael, hoping he can begin to convey the depths of his feelings. “I’m just surprised. You made this?”

 

“Yeah, well… like I said, I had help,” Michael replies.

 

Alex scoffs a little.  Michael’s clearly being modest about this.  It was his idea, the labor of his hands, his time and energy and… It feels like love.  Is it?    “It’s… wow, Michael. Thank you. This is amazing.”  Alex considers another kiss buts decides on an embrace instead.  He pulls Michael in close, feeling the muscles of his back and shoulders through his thin t-shirt… imagines those muscles carefully constructing these wooden planters, positioning the vegetables just so… Alex feels Michael bury his face in the crook of his neck, and Alex relaxes into it, sighing deeply and holding Michael even tighter.  

Alex suddenly hears a little whine at his feet and sees Cowboy, looking up at him expectantly. He reluctantly loosens his hold on Michael. “Let’s go inside,” he says softly. “I want to show Cowboy around the house.” Michael takes a long, shaky breath, nods, and walks into the house, affording Alex a great, albeit distracting, view.  Alex is already halfway across the living room when he notices his surroundings.  “Did it get a lot greener EVERYWHERE?” he asks, eyes darting from his mantle to his window, taking in all of the beautiful houseplants. There was a warmth to the place now, a lived-in quality that hadn’t been there when Alex had left.

“Uh, yeah,” Michael says, looking a little uncertain again. “So I know it’s a lot. Miss Diane at Plantopia, that nursery across town?” Alex nods. “She hired me to do some jobs for her and paid me in plants. She also helped me rehab your inch plant. Apparently, he wasn’t getting enough light over in your kitchen.” Michael’s blushing a little as he explains the whole process to Alex.  It’s endearing. 

“Michael, I swear… You’re amazing.” For as hard as it’s been, in the past, for them to tell each other the truth, saying this to Michael right now is easy.  Natural.  Should be said often, Alex thinks, especially when he sees the way Michael seems to light up from the inside. He reaches out to grasp Michael’s hand, and squeezes it gently until Michael looks up at him through those long lashes. “Can you put my bag in my room? I’m going to walk Cowboy around the house.”

“Sure,” Michael says, and he quickly moves away, going off to search for Alex’s abandoned suitcase. Alex grabs Cowboy’s vest and practices giving him a few basic commands, seeing how he responds in this unfamiliar space.  Out of the corner of his eye he sees Michael lugging a suitcase into Alex’s bedroom.  Without warning, Cowboy darts after Michael, catching Alex off guard.  “Ah! Cowboy! No!” he calls, following him into the bedroom - where he’s leapt into Michael’s arms and is gently lapping at his face. Michael’s smiling, totally focused on Cowboy, but Alex sees the telltale evidence of tear tracks on his cheeks.  Alex bites his lip a little and takes in the scene, letting the two of them bond before Michael finally looks up at him. 

“Well, I guess he likes me,” Michael says, smiling warmly.  

“That makes two of us,” Alex says earnestly, tossing the harness to the side and going over to lay on the bed.  First language, he thinks, as he leans in close to Michael. Cowboy seems thrilled to be licking both of them.  

"At least I kiss better,” Michael says. 

“Well, now you do,” Alex teases. 

“Hey!” Michael says, faux-offended as he reaches over Cowboy to playfully swat at Alex’s arm. “I gave you nice green things and took care of your place. Be nice!”

Alex laughs, raises an eyebrow.  “Yes, you certainly gave me lots of green things. Guess you’re a grow-er and a show-er?” 

Michael groans, shakes his head.  “Leave the dad jokes to me,” he says, and Alex thinks again of his dream.  Of Michael and family and safety and peace.  Michael moves to sit up, but Alex grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him back down, on top of his own body.

“You got it,” he whispers, closing the space between them with a kiss. They’re so wrapped up in each other that it takes Cowboy barking to pull them out of their trance.

“What is it, boy?” Alex asks, concerned, and then his eyes widen. “Michael, look!”

The plants, they’re… dancing.  Swaying gently in the breezeless room.  

“Hmmm?” Michael says lazily.  As he focuses his attention on the room, the plants abruptly stop moving.

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers.  “I… I think you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“Kiss me again,” he urges.

“Gladly,” Michael says, rolling over onto Alex and pinning him in place with his body. They make out lazily for a bit, but as their touch becomes more intimate, more urgent, Alex whispers, “Look at the plants.”

Michael looks, and freezes.  ‘They’re moving.”

“I think it’s you,” Alex says.  “I think when you’re… like this.  Relaxed, happy… the plants know it.  And they like it too.”  

“That… that’s incredible,” Michael says.

“So are you,” Alex says.

***

“Hello Alex,” says Dr. Delmont, settling into his chair.  “It’s been over a month since I’ve seen you in person. What’s new?”

“Well,” says Alex, barely containing his smile, “quite a few things, actually. I have a dog now, obviously.  And a garden, which was a surprise.” He pauses, and his smile grows. “And, um, Michael and I? We’re together now. Like really together.” 

Even Dr. Delmont can’t contain his smirk.  “Sounds like you made the right choice, then? With the house-sitter?”

Oh yeah.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading! I'm aewriting on tumblr as well.