Alex wasn't here to talk about the weather, or the lack of clouds in the sky. It was a distraction, something to focus on instead of focusing on each other. He hated it. He wanted to grab Michael's collar and shake him. Shake him and kiss him and pull him close and...
He closed his eyes, scrubbed a hand over his face. Those thoughts led nowhere good. There was a distance between them now, that hadn't been there before, even when Alex had been fighting a war in a whole other country. The problem was, despite the rift keeping them apart, that cosmic connection they had that defied logic and reason was still strong, and fighting it seemed like a really bad idea.
Alex sighed and opened his eyes. "I don't want to talk about the weather, Michael." He figured this conversation was going to go one of two ways. Either they were going to have a normal, adult conversation over pizza and beer, or they were going to end up abandoning the pizza and the beer in favor of the bed. The third possible outcome, that Alex stormed off and left in a cloud of dust was unacceptable.