Archive of Our Own ^beta

 

Alex is over at yours, again. Making himself at home with his feet on the matted couch as he reads through some book of his. He’d been over lots of times during the last two weeks, with a book or a record that had you using the ancient cd player you always said you were going to throw away but never did, sometimes he’d write in a journal. 

While his apartment was larger, yours was cozier. His flat was still sparse, reflecting the fact that he never spent a lot of time there. 

After the second time he’d invited himself over with a bottle of wine you’d realized he was also sort of lonely. Especially as Alex actually paid attention to all the complains you had to vent out after a long day. 

You stir the onion soup, as you scroll through your phone, looking through this seasons fashion collections. Winters pretty much over so there should be some things going on sale so you might actually be able to afford things. 

Nina Simone’s voice croons throughout your flat. Filling the silence comfortably. 

You turn off the stove after tasting the broth. Heading to the cupboard for some plates. 

Alex comes into the kitchen, looking relaxed in a black shirt, untucked for once, and formfitting dark jeans. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’m alright,” you shake your head, already serving soup for him without much thought, “besides you brought the onions.”

“When I asked if you wanted anything,” Alex retorts with a smile, “I didn’t expect a grocery list back.”

“Well you did offer.” You grin up at him, noting the way the roots of his slicked back hair are starting to appear lighter than the rest of it.  

“I could’ve just gotten takeout,” he replies grabbing the glasses and bottle. 

“I’m trying not to eat out as much.”

“How’s that going?”

“Well I had mcdonald’s for lunch so not great,” you admit with a laugh that he matches, eyes crinkling with a smile on his lips.  

“I would’ve brought you something if you’d asked,” Alex says quietly, with his eyes looking dark and intensely romantic in the dim lighting. 

You can’t hold his gaze for long, looking down as you set the bowls down on the table. “Well I don’t like to be greedy.”

“I don’t mind,” Alex assures you, a certain amount of red creeping into the skin of his cheeks. 

Deciding that you don’t want to deal with this at all when you’ve found your footing on being friends, when you haven’t had to pretend about anything in nearly three weeks, you change the subject as you take a seat. “Did you dye you hair black or something?”

“What why?” He threads a hand through his locks, and it’s only the sheer amount of gel that he uses that keeps it in place. 

“your roots,” you reply easily, grabbing at a spoon and digging in. It’ll keep you from reaching out and running a hand through his hair the way you want. Like you have any right to. 

Alex smiles like the utter bastard he can be, “still looks good right?" 

You laugh a bit at his expense before nodding.



Later, when he’s helped you clean up the dishes while you find something to watch on the telly, and you’re both laying on the couch, curled up with ease, your attention only half on what’s going on as you’re about ready to doze off, Alex turns to you, his knee tapping on the floor, "remember that trip out in California Zack mentioned?" 

You nod even though your not one hundred percent sure what he’s on about. Now fed and comfy, you’re ready to doze off and your couch is just as comfortable as your bed after a long days work. 

"Would you,” Alex asks carefully, “maybe possibleh want to go?" 

"As,” you reply, just to be sure you’re both on the same page. It’s easy to ignore how your newfound friendship started out. Friendship and nothing more. Rock stars date models, not people like you. 

It’s a fact you keep forgetting when Alex fits in perfectly in your home. Your legs by his. His eyes flickering back over to the telly and laughing. 

“You know,” he carefully doesn’t say out loud. Maybe he’s just as messed up about this as you are. It was probably easier to ask a stranger to pretend to date you then a friend. “We can break it off after,” he adds in a rush. 

You sigh. “This isn’t some ploy to get me to Arielle’s wedding is it? Prove you’re not the bitter and lonely ex?" 

Alex scrunches his nose up comically, "I’m not loneleh” he protests, twisting the ring on his hand. “And I think this is the easiest breakup I’ve had." 

"Just your band mates?” A boys trip was not your idea of fun. Especially if it was going to be your first time in the states. 

“Bree too,” Alex tells you, looking over at you with his hopeful doe eyes and you just know you’re going to get suckered into this. He makes it so hard to say no when he looks at you like that. 

“When is it?” You look at the telly but it hold none of your attention, your check resting against your palm, slouching further into the sofa. 

“The end of next month,” Alex explains, “just a quick five day trip. Not work or anything though you never know what could end up happening when your just tossing ideas around.”

You nod. It’s after the big rush for the spring events all the rich posh people have. Ascot and polo. Perfect timing. Your eyes start to flutter shut, “just send me the information for the flights over so I buy the plane ticket and ask for the days off.”

Carelessly, Alex places his hand on your tigh, making the skin underneath tingle, “no, I couldn’t possibly make you pay for yourself . It’s the least I could do putting you through this.”

“Ah yes Alex,” you tell him, in that spaced out half asleep way, “it’s such a huge sacrifice to hang out with you. Just give me the noble peace prize.”

“So you’ll go?" 

"Only if you shut up and let me watch the movie.”

“You don’t even know what’s going on,” he answers with a soft smile on his head. 

You half heartedly shrug, letting sleep carry you off.

At some point the telly clicks off and Alex gets up, the sofa shifting as he moves and jolting you a tab bit awake. 

“Alex,” you mutter, wondering if he’s leaving. 

“Just a second love,” he calls out. You can’t place where he’s at and getting up sounds like too much work, so you stretch out on the sofa. It’s a testament to how tiny you are, or maybe how large the sofa is that you fit perfectly.

You’re already drifting off again when Alex gets back with some blankets, tenderly covering you with one. You hadn’t even known he’d noticed where you stashed them. 

“Are you leaving?”

“Only if you want me to.”

You crack your eyes open like a cat and catch his wrist with your hand, the feelings his skin against yours causes stirring up again. “No, stay." 

"Okay.”

You scoot over and make room for him. And he takes it for the invitation that it is. Curling up against you because there’s not room on a sofa for two people that’s aren’t spooning. 

His arm pulls you into his chest and you breath in the scent of him, something so distinctly Alex that you like so much, as you let yourself fall back asleep.