Who: Michael and Alex What: First time seeing each other in 10+ years When: Last night Where: Random bar Rating/Warning: Low Status: Complete
It had been an average day at work for Michael Guerin. He fixed some cars, talked to some customers. Nothing out of the ordinary. He was the only one at the shop today. Which was how he liked it. He preferred to just be alone working on cars in silence. After finishing with his last car and locking up for the shop it was time to end his night at a bar, the way he did most nights.
Michael was on his second beer when he spotted someone familiar walk into the bar. A blast from his past. Michael blinked. Could it be? Was he drunk and imagining things? But no, there he was.
Alex.
Michael’s heart stopped. It had been ten years since he had heard from Alex. Ten long years, and the guy still remained on Michael’s mind. Michael remained frozen in place, not sure of what to do. But he couldn’t look away. Michael could never look away when it came to Alex. Not really.
It felt like forever since Alex had been back in town. And it had, except for maybe two or three brief trips home (to see his brothers, never his father) during his leave, Alex had given serious thought to just leaving this place behind in his rear view mirror and never coming back. But something had drawn him home, the thought of never returning had sat ill in his stomach and the homesickness for a place he’d really always hated while he’d been away was… unnerving. As was the drive to just come home when he was finally discharged from the hospital following the IED explosion that had laid him and the other airman who had survived up for nearly six weeks.
They’d said he was lucky; he could have lost his leg. They’d managed not to have to amputate but he’d probably be able to tell the changes in the seasons with the ache in his bones and he’d become a great weather man.
Adjusting his weight so he wasn’t putting too much of it on his right leg, he rubbed the side of his neck and glanced around quickly. Stepping into the bar almost felt like coming home, or it would if home was loud and smelt like stale hops and was noisy and full of people he didn’t know - or hadn’t seen in years and didn’t know if he even had anything in common with them anymore.
Wetting his lower lip, he carefully started walking - doing his best to avoid the limp that haunted his steps at the moment - towards the bar, stumbling only slightly when his gaze fell on a face he hadn’t seen for a very long time, a face that hadn’t changed at all except it had. It made no sense. He swallowed and moved a little closer, easing himself onto a stool a couple away from Michael Guerin.
Of all the people to run into in a bar. He felt a surge of self consciousness, dark jeans, boots and a checked shirt seemed to be the furthest from the clothes he’d wanted Michael to see him in the first time they saw each other again. If that was ever to happen again.
“Guerin,” he greeted, ordering himself a beer, forcing himself to sound casual even if he felt anything but. “Figured you’d be long gone from here by the time I got back.”
And just like that everything came rushing back to Michael. What it was like to kiss Alex. What his foster father had done to him. His hand ached at the memory, but Michael was glad it had happened to him and not to Alex. How much it had hurt when Alex stopped talking to him. How worried and scared Michael had been when Max told him Alex joined the military. It was as though it had all just happened yesterday. Not ten years ago.
Michael had been sure he would never see Alex again. There were times he wondered if the man was still alive or if the way had killed him. But even with all that he didn’t think Alex would ever come home. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew he couldn’t look away.
Then Alex spoke to him. Michael swallowed. “Nowhere to go,” he replied honestly. He picked up his beer with his band hand, the deformation prominent, and took a sip. “Didn’t think you’d be coming back.”
Alex looked away when his eyes fell on Michael’s left hand, the memory of what had happened - he hadn’t run far enough away to miss what had happened when Michael’s foster father had- His fingers curled around the neck of the bottle and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. He thanked the bartender and took a sip of the beer, looking forward to compose himself before he tipped his head back in Michael’s direction.
It was like he’d never left, the memory of their precious few rushed kisses, the guilt, how much he loved the feeling of his fingers in Michael’s hair, the perpetual fear that something else would happen to the two of them, the rush he always felt just being near the other man. He wet his lower lip again and shrugged his shoulders. “Nowhere else to go,” he offered, lips twitching up in the corners softly in a humourless smile, thumb running along the neck of the bottle thoughtfully. “Besides, sometimes you just gotta come home.” He had felt like he had to be here, something deep he knew in his gut.
Michael couldn’t help the grin that formed on his face when Alex threw his own comment back at him. “Yeah,” Michael agreed finishing off his beer. He motioned to the bartender for another. “I guess you’re right,” he shrugged. Michael himself had never really had a home. Or maybe he had those first seven years, but if he had he certainly didn’t remember it. The point was Michael didn’t really know what the feeling of having a home was. Unless you counted his trailer, which was all his and Michael was proud to own.
The bartender brought his drink over. After giving the man a nod of thanks he moved over a stool, closing the gap between himself and Alex. “You back for good?” Michael couldn’t help but ask. Or was this just a visit? Before he went back to war.
Alex felt his breath catch a little when Michael moved a stool closer. There was still a bit of space between them, but suddenly it didn’t feel like enough - but also felt like too much. He needed to get a grip on himself. Resting his elbows on the bar top, he took a sip of his beer and let the bottle hang between his fingers.
“Yeah,” he answered after a moment, licking his lower lip and chasing away the taste of beer. “Yeah, I think I’m back for good. My enlistment period’s just about up and I’m on-” medical leave the words nearly tripped off his tongue but he didn’t say it. “-leave.” He tipped his head, glanced at Michael almost like he was worried about what he would see there. “That gonna be a problem?”
Alex didn’t move away, but he didn’t exactly move closer either. There was still one stool between them. Michael wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that. He wanted to be closer, to feel Alex’s touch again, to feel Alex’s lips against his. He shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about those things. It had been ten years. Alex had gone to war, had probably been through a lot. Michael was probably the last thing on Alex’s mind.
Michael noticed the pause when Alex spoke of his leave. There was more to the story there, Michael was sure of it. He wanted to know more. But he also knew he had no right to ask. “No,” Michael replied with another swig of beer. It was anything but a problem. But again he left that unsaid. “Why would it be?”
Alex’s shoulder lifted and he rubbed at the side of his head, glass chinking slightly as it hit the countertop. “Just checking,” he offered, feeling a relief that he hadn’t quite been prepared for that it wasn’t an issue. His back was tense from the effort it was taking not to just sway into Michael’s orbit, to pull towards him and close that last bit of distance so their thighs and shoulders were touching. But it had been a long time.
“I’ve been gone a long time,” he added, as if Michael didn’t even know that. “Driving through earlier it was kinda…” he wet his lower lip, “unrecognisable? Like, so much has changed.” And, when he turned his head to look at Michael, the twist in his chest told him that so much also had stayed the same.
“Not for me,” Michael replied. For him everything was basically the same. Only now he was no longer at the mercy of foster families. He was in charge of his own life, even if it wasn’t much. It was enough for him.
He bit on his bottom lip lightly, thinking of what to say next. If he should even bring it up. “You’ve seen a lot,” Michael finally said. At least he assumed Alex had. It was kind of implied with the whole being at war thing. He could see how it would seem like so much had changed for Alex.
Alex chuckled, though it was humourless. “No more or less than anyone else,” he answered, because everyone had their own traumas; he knew Michael hadn’t had an easy life and there was no joy in war and no one had it easy. He rubbed his hand over his face and leaned to the side a little, swaying closer to Michael without meaning to. Michael had always had such a strong orbit, ever since they’d met, Alex had just felt drawn to him and he had no idea why. He turned his head again, looked at the other man and felt his lips curling up into a genuine smile.
“Well, they say you don’t notice small changes that happen over time if you’re in the middle of it,” he pointed out, “but- hey, you wanna tell me what hasn’t changed?” he asked, taking another sip of his beer and shifting on the stool so he was actually facing Michael, leaning his elbow on the bar. “What’re you doing with yourself nowadays?” he asked, wondering what Michael did for work, where he lived, if he was okay.
Michael could feel Alex getting closer. His eyes locked onto Alex’s, not looking away. And then there was that smile. Michael could get lost in Alex’s smile. It brought a smile to his own face - a rare occurrence for the angry mechanic. When Alex turned to face him it took all Michael’s willpower not to reach out and grab onto his face, pull him in for a kiss.
What was wrong with him? It had been ten damn years. How did Alex still have such a hold over him?
Michael picked up his beer again instead, taking a long swallow. He needed something else to do with his hands and lips. “I haven’t changed,” he replied with a shrug turning his own body so he was fully facing Alex. “Not really.” He was still the same angry guy that had been pushed around his whole life. Okay maybe he had changed a little. He was no longer at anyone’s mercy. His life was his own.
“I work over at Out of This World Mechanics,” Michael replied smile still on his face. “Got my own place now.” Even though he was proud of it he left out the fact that it was a trailer. A pause. He took another swallow of his beer. “No one pushes me around anymore,” Michael finally said, knowing full well Alex would get what he meant. Alex knew about his history. He had been there the night Michael’s hand was broken. He knew how little control Michael used to have over his life.
Michael sounded proud of his achievements, and he should. Alex nodded, “Sounds to me like quite a bit’s changed, then,” he pointed out softly, “that’s really good, Guerin, I’m happy for you.” He tipped his head back and finished off his beer, trying to glance at how much Michael had left in his bottle before just tapping the bar and asking for another two bottles to be dropped off, shifting on the stool to get his wallet out of his pocket and putting a couple of bills down on the table to cover it.
“I literally just got back in, so y’know, need to find somewhere to stay that isn’t-” that isn’t his family home. His father wasn’t there at the moment, he’d already been reassured that was the case, but it wasn’t a sure thing. “- well, where I’m gonna be resting for the next week or so. You know anywhere with a room to rent that’s gonna give a good deal to a Vet tryna get back on his feet?” He snorted into the lip of the new bottle at his own unintentional pun.
Michael finished off his beer and accepted the next one the bartender brought over. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said when Alex paid. “I have a tab,” and he was more than happy to let Alex put his own drinks on Michael’s tab. Michael wasn’t exactly rich but he made enough to get by, and had some left over for drinks.
Another sip of beer as he got the courage to say what he was about to offer. “You could always stay with me.” Was that too forward? He didn’t mean it like they had to sleep together, though Michael certainly wouldn’t be opposed to that. He just wanted to help Alex out. “It’s small,” and there was only one bed but he could make up something on the floor. For himself. He wouldn’t make Alex sleep there. “But you’re welcome to it.”
Alex lifted his eyebrow and said, in perfect deadpan, “Well, since you have a tab this’ll clearly be the last drink I ever buy you.”
He smiled around the rim of the bottle that was lifted to his lips, winking to show that he wasn’t being serious. It would be a really uneven friendship if he let Michael always pay for the drinks. He wet his lower lip again and shifted, feeling a frown ghost over his features for a moment, fighting his knee-jerk reaction to say yes, because if it was small then he was sure that Michael only had one bed, and that would mean they either would share (not unappealing, probably not conducive to Alex’s apparent inability to control himself around Michael) or Michael would sleep on the floor (significantly more unappealing as you didn’t put a guy out of his own bed, but Alex knew his own body well enough now to know that he’d be okay on the floor for the nights but in the day he’d get hell from his leg).
“Thanks, man,” he said, reaching out with his left foot and knocking Michael’s boot gently. “Wouldn’t wanna put you out or anything. My dad’s outta town for a little while anyway so I got time to find somewhere else to stay. If I need to ‘cause he comes back early, at least I know- uh, that the offer’s there?”
But god he wanted to say yes.
Michael smirked at the comment. “You trying to take advantage of me, Private?” It felt so good to be talking to Alex again. To be joking around with him. Alex was the one person who really got Michael. Yes there was Max, who was indeed his best friend. But Alex was different.
Michael watched as Alex took his time responding. Had he gone too far? Maybe he shouldn’t have offered up his place. But what else was he supposed to do when Alex was asking about a place to stay. He wanted to help.
Michael wanted to insist that Alex wouldn’t be putting him out. That he wanted Alex there. But he refrained himself. It had been ten years. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Just because he had never stopped thinking about Alex, didn’t mean Alex felt the same way.
“Well if you need it…” Michael replied his voice trailing off a bit as he took another sip of beer. “The offer stands.”
Alex watched Michael’s face, the play of emotions on it and felt a guilt twisting in his stomach. He swallowed, sipped at his beer and knocked Michael’s boot again gently. Trying to reassure him that the offer was appreciated. “I’ll bear that in mind,” he promised. “Though if you’re gonna want me to even visit you’ll have to drop me your address.”
He shifted again, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket and sliding it across the bar to Michael, unlocking it before he did so, “And your cell number, obviously. Can’t keep in touch with you now I’m back if I don’t have that.”
Michael entered his number into Alex’s phone sliding it back over to him. “If you need it I can text the address.” Seemed the easiest way to go about it. Instead of writing it down on a napkin or some shit. Alex had his number now, he could reach out if he needed to. Or wanted to. Michael really hoped that he did.
When Alex first disappeared it had been hard on Michael. Especially when he didn’t know why. Although knowing why didn’t exactly make it easier either. But still as the years went by it got easier. Yes Michael still missed him, still thought about him. But he had come to terms with the fact that he would probably never see Alex again. Now? He didn’t want to go through that again. Lose Alex from his life. “But either way you better use that number,” he added, his tone completely serious, not even a hint of joking.
Alex met Michael’s eyes and both of his eyebrows lifted in challenge. “Nah, Guerin,” he deadpanned again, “I figured I’d just ask you for your number and then never bother texting you.” He pulled his phone back across the bar and double checked that it was saved before he pressed call, letting it start to ring before he cancelled the call. “There, now you’ve got mine too.”
He took another sip of his beer and then licked his lower lip. “Also, ‘if I need it’? You not looking for me to just come visit?”
Michael felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. However, before he could even pull it out, it stopped. That was okay though. He knew who it was. Now that he had the missed call from Alex he could easily save the number. He’d do that later. Right now he just wanted to focus on Aelx.
“You tryna stop by for a visit, Private?” he shot right back. He had a feeling if Alex showed up at his door Michael didn’t think he would be able to control himself. It was taking everything he had to keep from reaching out and kissing him right now.
“You got somethin’ to hide, Guerin?” Alex asked with an upward quirk of his eyebrow, responding to the tease with one of his own. “That you wouldn’t want the US Government to know about?”
“If I did,” Michael said taking another sip of his beer. “Would you really turn me in?” he challenged, eyebrows raised a smirk on his face. Not that Michael had anything to hide. He led a simple life. But still, joking around with Alex again felt good. He felt more like himself than he had in years.
Alex chuckled, “Don’t tempt me,” he replied around the lip of his bottle as he tipped his head back to finish it off. “Keep all your illegal stuff outta sight until I’m no longer a soldier and we’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
As he sat here, joking with Michael and feeling a warmth settle in his bones that had been missing for years, he realised that this was what it felt like to be home. And that? That was okay by him.