They never had time. That was maybe Alex's biggest regret. He'd long since thought of the way things should have gone. Instead of running into his father, they'd have gone to the diner, maybe, and had a burger and talked. And they would have both been a bit eager and eventually the topic would have come around to their plans for the summer. And with a truck at Michael's disposal, they didn't have to spend the summer in Roswell. They could just drive away and spend the summer actually getting to know each other.

But his dad had cut that timeline short and it seemed like ever since, they'd only been able to capture stolen moments of time. Like this. A stolen moment before Alex found out what could have possibly kept Michael in Roswell. Maybe it was just as simple as Isobel and Max staying, but then why had they stayed? Why had Max gone into law enforcement instead of doing something with his love of literature? He could be a starving artist. No, there was something and this was another moment that would be cut all too short like all their moments since his father had interrupted them in the shed.

A thrill of anticipation and fear washed through him when Michael's lips drifted away from his lips. He told himself he was too old for a hickey, but a part of him was wondering if Michael would. A part of him wanted it. But another part was afraid of the questions that would raise. Being gay wasn't the problem. It was trying to explain his and Michael's complicated past.

Still, he tilted his head back and slid his fingers underneath Michael's shirt. They flexed against Michael's skin, an unconscious gesture urging him on. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to explain.