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back beneath the sunlight

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It’s too early to be awake, but Alex doesn’t mind. He’s surrounded by Michael’s warmth and his comforting scent of newly damp earth, forehead buried in that soft spot between Michael’s shoulder blades. Sleep hardly matters when you’re cocooned in the safest place on the planet, on any planet anywhere.

There’s not a ton of light, only the barest slivers of moon glowing silver through the window, the sun too near now to let the moon continue to have her say. But it’s enough that Alex can trace the raised scratch marks on Michael’s bare ass from their celebratory play a few hours earlier. Ending Jones had left them both starved for love, for joy, for each other.

“You look like you’ve been mauled by a wild animal,” he whispers into Michael’s shoulder. He presses a kiss into the curve of Michael’s spine and laughs when he thinks about how little control he’d had last night, the initial tendrils of freedom burrowing into his heart and overwhelming him with the urge to tear Michael apart. In the best way, of course.

In the way that he could crawl inside and build a home and stay awhile.

Rolling over, Michael yawns and stretches his arms over his head, arching his back off the bed. He holds the position for several beats longer than absolutely necessary before smiling wickedly at Alex, curls crumpled against the pillow. “What are you doing up so early?”

Alex plants his hand firmly on Michael’s chest, fingers swirling purposefully through his chest hair. “Memorizing you. Slowly, carefully. I’ve decided that’s going to be my new superpower.”

Michael’s grin grows broader, eyes sparkling in the blue light of early morning that’s finally starting to creep through the blinds. He reaches over to run his fingers through Alex’s messy hair, ghosting the pad of his thumb along the shell of his ear. “I’m not sure that’s gonna do you a whole lotta good.”

The caress travels from Alex’s ear straight down his spine and pools like liquid fire in his belly. “You’re wrong, Guerin. There’s no better superpower than knowing every single inch of your body better than you know it yourself.”

He traces invisible lines from the hollow of Michael’s throat to his nipples, taking his time to learn each rise and fall, each freckle, each oversensitive patch of skin that causes Michael’s breath to hitch. “I’m going to know exactly what you feel like underneath my fingertips, the palm of my hand, the bite of my fingernails.”

Alex pinches a nipple, smiling as Michael arches into his touch, moaning, begging for more. His cock is fully erect, bobbing with each beat of his heart. There will be time to take care of that later, but there are so many delicious spots left to explore before he gets there. He’s determined to leave nothing overlooked.

“I’m going to know exactly want you taste like on my lips, my tongue, my teeth.” Replacing his fingers with his teeth, Alex nips hard at Michael’s bloodred nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue and then sucking hard enough to bruise. Michael’s hand flies to the back of Alex’s head, scrabbling at the nape of his neck for purchase. Alex simply kisses his way across Michael’s chest and slowly tortures his other nipple, biting and dragging his teeth across his skin again and again, no longer bothering to pause and soften the burn.

Within minutes, Michael is a complete wreck despite hardly being touched. But Alex understands; he gets it. It’s been so damn long since they’ve been able to enjoy each other like this -- untethered to their own bullshit, to the world’s bullshit. To be able to let go now and just enjoy each other is beyond intoxicating.

And they have no place to be with Jones destroyed and a long, lazy Sunday beckoning them into the future.

Michael’s thighs fall open and Alex takes advantage of the unbidden invitation, climbing between his legs and rubbing their cocks together, kissing the groan from Michael’s mouth with a smooth stroke of his tongue. “I’m going to know exactly what it feels like to slide our bodies together once they’re soaked with sweat, over you and under you and inside of you.”

Alex bites rough at Michael’s chin, forcing his hands above his head, continuing to grind their hips together. Michael’s neck is thrown back into the pillow, curls spiraled wild around his head like some kind of golden crown, eyes shut tight, teeth biting his lip damn near bloody. “Open your eyes, Guerin.”

They open immediately, bright and honey-drunk. He’s always been so good, so obedient, so ready to bend to Alex’s every whim and desire. “You’re magnificent. Do you know that?”

He searches Michael’s eyes for an answer, waits for something coherent to tumble out of his mouth. Michael only nods, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes, whether from emotional or physical need Alex can’t be sure. Either is so fucking good though, and Alex plans to make sure that Michael knows just how damn good.

Eventually, he does manage to speak. “Sounds like that superpower of yours is going to take a long time to master.”

Michael’s voice is wrecked, low and strained. Alex wants so badly to fuck him, to ruin him from the inside out. “You’re not wrong about that.” His voice is just as fucked as Michael’s. “I’m pretty much planning on it taking forever.”

And then, there are no more words. There is only a warm bottle of lube, Michael opening around Alex’s fingers, and the familiar homeward slide into that furious, frantic rhythm perfected ages ago when they had only been lovesick teenagers sneaking out into the safety of some endless desert night.