Matthewhauri Stories

It slips out of his mouth as he lies there, head back as the LA sky and its lights trickle over the horizon. "I'm gonna marry you, y'know."

Matt's caught the plague (it's just the flu) and Alex wants to take care of him.

Nothing. Still nothing. No texts, no email, no ridiculous voice note in Alex's signature playful drawl. That worries him, like /really/ worries him.

mood: aggressively smoking a cigarette in a spread eagle pose

Pink. That's all Matt can see is fucking pink. He thought the view was nice from the rented yacht they had parked in the nearby marina, but this was so much nicer.

He reached for the most nearby marker, something that was like forest green or whatever weird names they named colors nowadays, when suddenly - an idea hit him that made him put his mug down in fear of dropping it, grin returning full force as the idea turned in his head before it settled and made his mind up.

"Fix it." "No."

He remembers that they were dancing. That's the last memory he has of him, permanently stained to his eyelids. Permanently lost in the flow of time.

He was truly alone, stranded in a city succumbing to the cold, with no way to know if his best friend (and so, so much more) was even alive. He couldn't live like this. He wouldn't live like this. He had to do something.

Alex finds out that Matt likes him in certain types of clothes. Specifically, Matt's clothes.

"Name's Matt, but people call me - well, used to call me Gravy, I guess." "Cool." Alex just wants to sob, go into the History wing and curl up in a coffin or behind a display case and weep. "I'm the museum nightguard, Alex." "Alex. Nice to meet you, big guy." Matt's smile doesn't fade, but Alex can see it dim a little, his eyebrows creasing like they used to when he was thinking a little too hard about something. "My best friend was called Alex."

"Please tell me the condoms that you carry in your wallet are not just the ones adorned with the American flag colours." "Normally they're neon pink, baby." "Do not call me baby."

Matt knows his cheeks are pink, but given he's practically holding Alex up as he fondles him under his button up, eyes looking up at him like he's the night sky, he's not exactly in a position to complain.

You're stuck in a crappy situation, a low paying job and boss who pays you for your body. Every day has become normal to you and you're happy. Or you thought you were, until you met a guy at a party. A guy who said he could change your life, take you out of the hellish loop you've gotten yourself stuck in.

One song at a time. Two more songs. Just the outro...then, the world tilted.

When Matt looks at him in a way that suggests that he doesn't want him to leave LA, Alex feels some strange feeling all the way up to when he's standing at the airport he can't shake.

To be fair, Alex was expecting this guy that his manager wanted to meet was going to be some overpaid grade A asshole who just wanted some usable clout. He wasn't expecting blonde hair, blue eyes and black lipstick.

For a fleeting moment, there was recognition, a flicker of something... was it guilt? Surprise? Before Alex could decipher it, Matt's face smoothed out into a practised, almost too-wide smile. He's determined to wipe it off Matt's face.

"You're making me uneasy, staring at that thing." "Well, I used to be a cop, remember? Some things just don't leave you."

Matt receives a Christmas present just before he leaves to go spend it with his mother in Minnesota. Only problem is - he doesn't know who it's from, till he does.