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Sunlight streamed in through billowing curtains. Late morning, by the feel of it on Alexander's skin, but he could be wrong. He was far from home, far everything familiar. The air here smelled different. The sheets held him differently. The body against his was definitely different. Maybe the sun felt different as well.
Not that the time mattered. Today he had no plans. For many days, in fact, he had no plans. All had been left behind in the States, along with employment, distant friends, and the last thread to family that he'd had. For the moment, that's all there was: this room, this bed, this man.
Without dislodging Michael from his arms, Alexander stretched his back. They'd been up late last night, talking, attempting to make love. He was still tired, not ready to wake. And yet, his body was insisting on things. Bathroom. Water. Food.
But none of it was urgent yet. Not as urgent as the desire to bask in Michael's warmth a bit longer, hold him close, and breathe.
Michael looked so innocent while asleep. Well, his perfect face and huge eyes always made him look innocent, but the intenseness that was there while he was awake melted away in slumber. And though the last thing he wanted was to think of dark things right now, Alexander couldn't help but marvel at the sheer luck that Michael was put into a cell with someone like Fernando Sucre instead of, well, almost anyone else. A pretty face like with someone who'd been locked away for years, and sexuality became a moot issue.
And yet...
He yawned. Kissed Michael's shoulder, above the burned out section of the map. Pressed his head into Michael's back.
Sleep tugged at him again, overriding everything else.
The phone rang.
Without pulling away from Alexander, Michael reached out and grabbed the phone. "'lo?" he mumbled into the receiver, face half buried in the pillow.
Since he was awake anyway, Alexander kissed Michael on his neck.
In response, Michael turned his head, eyes still closed. Their lips met. Soft. Open. Tongues just barely brushing against one another. When the kiss ended, their foreheads pressed together.
"Huh? " Michael said, sounding dazed. Then, "Oh. No, I'm... I'm fine." He touched Alexander's face, eyes closed. Ran his knuckles down his cheek, over his chin. "I just had a late night."
Alexander caught Michael's hand. Kissed it. Kissed each finger. Knew that he was being incredibly rude, and yet was unable to stop himself from the slow, open kisses on each of Michael's knuckles, tongue touching each one to taste sleep-warmed skin.
"Drawing." He smiled almost impishly at Alexander and swept his finger down Alexander's nose. "I was inspired."
Alexander caught the tip of Michael's finger in his teeth and nibbled.
Michael blushed. "So," he said, clearing his throat, "how's the kid?"
He really didn't want to be rude. Or a distraction. It was simply so hard not to touch Michael. He was very... touchable. Soft, receptive, and so incredibly responsive. Just stroking with the tips of his fingers produced shivers in the body beneath his.
Vague noises came from the phone, audible even to Alexander. It was garbled speech, but he caught a few words: test; pretty sure he failed; let you down.
"That's ridiculous," Michael said. "First, he could never let me down, and the next time you call, let me tell him that myself. Second, the rule is, if you think you failed, you probably did really well." More silence and talking from the other side, then, "Is here there? I'll talk to him now."
The negative came through loud and clear.
Michael sighed and rolled onto his back. "Well, tell him what I said." He pet Alexander's hand, which had come to rest on Michael's chest. "Anyway, how are you?"
Lots of talking. Alexander, who didn't really care, tugged the sheets down to his and Michael's waist. Then, carefully, he traced the lines of the tattoo. Last night, he'd traced hidden paths embedded in the image; today he concentrated on the image of the demon --or devil, or perhaps Lucifer--in the center of his chest and abdomen. Carefully going over it as if he were the artist.
"That's good," Michael said, eyes fluttering shut. The breathlessness with which he said it made Alexander wonder if Michael was speaking to him or the person on the other line. "What about that girl you were dating. Still seeing her?"
He stroked the feathers painted into the tip of the angel's wing. Followed the curvature. Played in the shadows.
"What happened?" Michael said, dismayed. His eyes opened a moment, then closed when Alexander stroked down the edge of the wing.
Michael trapped Alexander's hand under his own, holding it against his stomach. "Linc, you've got to stop breaking up with these women because of me. I.... no, I know, I just.... No, it's not that, only.... But I..." He exhaled, face tightening. "It's just that the only thing I want is for you to be happy."
The sorrow, the sadness, the *pain* in Michael's voice knifed through Alexander's heart.
More talking on the other side. Softer, but the intensity somehow came through.
The corners of Michael's mouth turned down. "No. No, yeah, I understand. I do. I promise." He sighed heavily. "Are you two, uh. You know." He rolled onto his side. "Okay, I'll send you the plan as soon as it's ready. Just give me a week." A pause. "I really miss you, too. I love you and I'll see you soon." He hung up.
Alexander let silence fill the air for a moment. Let Michael get control of his thoughts, his feelings. All the while petting and stroking up and down Michael's side.
"I take it," Alexander said after a moment, "your brother won't get involved in any serious relationship because of the fear of her finding out about you?" He pressed his hand into Michael's stomach.
Michael's nod was jerky and stiff.
Alexander held his tongue until Michael felt like elucidating.
"At first, I thought it was out of loyalty to Veronica," Michael finally said. His voice was tight. "And then he started telling me... I mean, he let it slip. He didn't meant to, but he's Lincoln."
"If he wants to stay single, it's his choice. Not your fault."
A muscle in Michael's jaw bunched.
"He's got LJ to think about," Alexander continued. "Work. Maybe he doesn't really want to be tied down. Maybe he's planning on leaving the States when LJ finishes college and wants to be free to do so. Or, maybe, he just can't find a woman he really wants to be with and, instead of admitting it, uses you as an excuse."
"Linc's never had any problem finding women."
"Women," he agreed. "But not a woman." He slipped his hand underneath the sheet and stroked Michael's hip, thoughtful. "Which may be what's really going on."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, maybe Lincoln doesn't know how to find one woman to settle down with. Or doesn't want to be with just one women."
"But he dates one woman for months on end. It's not like he's going out and having one night stands."
"Serial monogamy is still serial. And there's nothing wrong with it. I'm simply saying that perhaps Lincoln hasn't settled down because he really doesn't want to. And, for whatever reason, be it embarrassment or feeling judged or because he truly doesn't know, he prefers to say the reason is he wants to be free to come down and visit you without worry."
Michael shrugged. "I guess. Makes sense."
Alexander ran his thumb down Michael's jaw. "Does he call often?"
"Every week or so. We have a system so I'm not found. It's worked so far. I don't imagine it'll work forever."
"I don't know how serious they are in trying to find you anymore. When I resigned, there were a few who were still convinced that you were a dangerous man, but mostly... everyone understood your motivations once the conspiracy came to light. Even admired you for what you did. In cases like yours--good man, good motives, bad actions--even the FBI can develop a certain... lackadaisical method to tracking the culprit down."
"Even so, I don't want to get too comfortable."
"Probably the for the best." He traced Michael's ear. "When Lincoln coming to visit?"
"Three weeks. LJ's doing his finals, and Lincoln'll need to put notice in at work. They usually stay two months or so." Michael turned. "That won't be a problem, will it? Them being here?"
Something tight inside Alexander eased. "No, it won't. But what about you?"
"Why would it be a problem for me?"
"I'm the man who chased the two of you across the country. Who prevented a father from rescuing his innocent son from incarceration."
Michael cocked and eyebrow. "So, it's not really going to be a problem for me, but for Lincoln. And you."
"No, I..."
He was cut off by Michael rolling on top of him and kissing him. "You are staying, then," he whispered into Alexander's mouth.
Hand on the back of Michael's head, holding him close, he replied, "Yes."
"How long?" Michael's fingers dug into Alexander's shoulder. His breath was hot on Alexander's face as he kissed and nuzzled.
"How long do you want me?"
Michael just smiled. Mysterious. Knowing. Enigmatic.
So beautiful.
Michael had learned a lot since the night before. He took command of the kiss easily. His tongue found Alexander's, hot, wet. He stroked against it, caressing, causing warm thrills to run down Alexander's spine.
"God," he whispered, breaking the kiss. He rode his hips into Michael's, rubbing against the hard length.
Deep in his throat, Michael made a high whining noise. Tightened his fingers. Ground down into Alexander harder. Shuddered as he did, head falling back. His closed hi eyes tight, mouth falling open.
Such abandon. So beautiful.
Alexander ran his hands down Michael's back. Slipped underneath the thin pajama pants. Cupped his bottom. Tentatively stroked along his cleft. Then dipped deeper.
Michael went completely stiff.
"Sorry."
"No," Michael said, teeth gritted. Shook his head. "It's... it's... I just, are you... absolutely sure... you're clean?"
Oh. *Oh*.
If possible, he got even harder. And closer to the edge at the idea that they'd...
"Yes." He writhed his hips writhed under Michael's. "I was tested recently. Every test I've ever had has come back clean."
Michael nodded. Kissed him again. "Will you... I mean, do you want to, you know. Be inside me?"
The innocence and desire and need in Michael's voice almost sent him over the edge, ending the question of anything further. Alexander just managed to hold on. His fingers tightened on Michael's bottom, his spine stiffened. He held his breath. And when he thought he had control over himself, he said, "Yes."
Michael wrapped his arms around Alexander's neck. Their mouths came together again, slow, this time. Languorous. A slow, simmering heat rather than one that flamed. Tongues met and slid over one another. Alexander took Michael's bottom lip into his mouth and sucked.
Deep in his throat, Michael moaned.
"Do you have anything?"
"I don't have condoms. I..."
"No, Michael," and he actually was able to hold his laughter. "Lube."
He blushed. "Oh, right. Um... no, I don't." He sat up and climbed of Alexander. "Um... olive oil."
Alexander wrinkled his nose. He knew that olive oil had been a common lubricant in the past, but he'd rather avoid using a food based product for sex. "Anything else?"
"Um... I don't... shampoo, conditioner. Uh... sunscreen." He shook his head, obviously thinking hard--bad, because he was retreating into his head.
"Um, no," Alexander said. He rubbed his head. "I have lube at my hotel. We can put this off and..."
"Baby oil!" Michael said suddenly. "I have baby oil."
Alexander thought a moment, then nodded. "That should work."
"Hang on." Michael jumped out of bed and....
Went downstairs to his shop.
Okay.
While waiting for Michael to return, Alexander got up and went into the bathroom. There was a toothbrush laid out for him, as well as a towel, which had a place next to Michael's on the rack. He brushed the morning stickiness from his mouth, washed his face, used the toilet. And, when he was done, Michael still wasn't back.
Alexander almost wondered if Michael had actually gone out to buy baby oil, when he appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Found it," he said, holding the bottle up. His cheeks were dark red.
"In your shop?"
He nodded. "I use it mostly down there. Clean up scratches on plastic and shine anything that's chrome. Stuff like that." Michael passed the bottle back and forth between his hands. "Um, I was thinking. If we're going to do this, especially without condoms, I, uh. I need to shower." His cheeks went crimson, and he wouldn't meet Alexander's eyes. "Uh, clean up. And I'm kind of hungry, too. And, ah, it's a lot later than I thought it was when... I was asleep. It's not that... I mean, God, I want you and I want... Jesus, I've got work. Someone's coming here in, like, an hour and... I really just want to go back to bed, but their TV..."
"Michael," Alexander interrupted. He crossed the room and slid his hands up Michael's shoulders. "Calm down."
"I just..."
"Calm down."
Michael closed his eyes and exhaled shakily. "I couldn't sleep earlier. Too excited. Worked up. Anyway, I started sketching you. And I came up with this... this plan of how I wanted today to go. We'd wake up and have breakfast together. In bed since I don't have a table. And then we'd go to your hotel to get your stuff, and I wouldn't even have to ask if you were staying, I'd just know." He opened his eyes, but wouldn't quite meet Alexander's. "And we'd walk around the city. Not the tourist stuff, but I'd show you some of the places I go. And we'd come back here and just... relax. And then we'd, you know." He gave Alexander a lopsided smile. "And there wouldn't be this frantic search for lube or me being dumb or... or, God, me forgetting that I had to finish that stupid TV today. We could just... have this perfect day."
Alexander kissed Michael tenderly, one hand stroking his silky hair, the other caressing his arm. "Do your plans ever go off the way you want them to?"
He snorted. Shoved Alexander before yanking him back and kissing him with a fierce hunger. "You are a jerk."
"You are definitely in good company in thinking so." He nipped Michael's lower lip. "So, about that shower. Want company?
He groaned. Leaned heavily against Alexander. "Yes. But I have forty-five minutes to finish that TV before they come to pick it up and, despite the fact I've yet to last more than ten minutes when at your mercy..."
Alexander laughed. "How about I make breakfast while you shower? Sound good?"
"Yeah." Michael kissed him again. Rested his head on Alexander's shoulder. Whispered, "I always fantasized about us having hot sex and never felt weird. But when I imagined--hoped, really--that we could be friends, make some kind of life together, I felt so stupid. I'm glad to know that that part can be real, too."
"Yeah," Alexander whispered back, holding Michael tight. "Me too, Michael. Me too."