Flood land
Kristin: ([email protected]
Website: http://kristin.icculus.org/
Disclaimer: "Roswell" belongs to its creator, the WB, and a bunch of other
people who are not me. No copyright infringement intended. Not for profit.
Distribution: Roswell Slash Archive. Others, Just email me for permission.
Fandom: Roswell
Content: Alex/Max
Spoilers: pretty much none. (which is very rare for me)
Summary: Max has this habit of visiting Alex...
Dedication: To all my fellow posters on the UC thread at the FanForum
Roswell board.
Push the glass, stain the glass
Push the writer to the wall
It may come but it will pass
Some say we will fall
Dream of the flood
-The Sisters of Mercy, "Flood"
Rain never really gets to me. Maybe I'm just used to discomfort, or maybe I
instinctually block it out. Or maybe it's some strange alien thing. I'll
have to ask Isabel tomorrow morning. Maybe I'm not alone. But the rain is
pouring right now, soaking my jacket and jeans as they suck it up like thick
sponges. Yet I don't mind. Not really.
Every time I to go to see him it rains.
The window is always closed tight against the wind and the cold, and I have
to concentrate for a moment, focusing my energy on unlatching and lifting
the smooth glass. It's the heat that hits me first... the dry wave of heat.
And then his smile, innocent and still so pure. I think its my favorite part
of these visits--the easy affection just *flowing* my way. He's so beautiful
in these moments. But he didn't smile the first time.
It was a crazy impulse, really. I was just wandering, letting myself get
lost in the night. Anger coursed through my body, directing itself at nature
so that Michael could still remain on this earth... in existence... Yes. I
was *that* mad. And the window was just hanging over my head... calling to
me. My mind whispered, "Why not?" Insanity.
Alex flinched as I lifted the latch and entered, clothes creating a puddle
in his carpet. I had to get them off.
"Max? Wh-wh-wh-..."
He froze, wide-eyed, as I stripped off my shirt and threw it out on the
grass. (No reason to leave a mess.) And he backed away slowly...
cautiously... panic brewing under his skin.
"Alex." The name felt like desire between my lips, and I nearly shivered as
the tip of my tongue brushed lightly across the roof of my mouth. Alex.
Approaching, I could feel the abject fear rolling off of him, and then utter
confusion as I brought my mouth to his chest... feeling his rapid heartbeat
under my lips-lightening quick, like a terrified rabbit. Delicious. My
tongue snaked up across his shirt and to his neck, tasting the salty sweat
and tender skin underneath. A playful nip, and he jumped as I laughed.
Intoxicating.
Before Alex could offer any complaint or prayer I was upon him, licking at
his sweet mouth and demanding entrance. And he melted, like ice thrust into
a furnace. Tentative, passive open-mouthed kisses turned into powerful
strokes of his tongue. I was lost in his mouth, savoring his soft whimpers
that buzzed against my lips. He had melted clear into me... found his way
*inside* of me.
So I stopped. I had to. Before I couldn't tell who was who and what was
what. But I would be back. That was necessary too. And as I crawled out the
window I sent him a smile-one of those all too rare real ones. The ones that
make promises, that tell the future, tell that I'm coming...
Yes. I always come back.
End
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