GENRE: FLUFF fluffy fluff
WARNINGS: none.
NOTES: ten_galleons Ch3rry_NympH ZHAEXXI whyamihere1988 iluvlarrydude raultin_12 Jesse1323 lupinswhoreee widowsredhair HwangSoora Haley_Quinn12 Mikaylyngrace all requested a part 2 bc they have taste. PHEW i love him so much? i hope you guys like this!!!!!!!

for reference, both are you are out of school but stay at xavier's as you train your powers. and more alex requests are appreciated lmao <333 also i got a sign off it's so cute x

— b.

_______________

The first dinner you had with Alex and Scott's parents was decidedly eventful. They really seemed to love your sense of humour, and definitely got a kick out of telling you embarrassing stories about their sons. The older boy seemed to be more peeved about it, but didn't really say anything to stop them. All he could do was watch the way you smiled and laughed at their retelling, practically glowing in the warm light of his parents' dining room.

You were just about done with your meal when they started to bring out the childhood photo albums. Alex hid behind his hand and groaned as his mom showed off every last one of them, cooing at his baby pictures, embarrassing year book photos, and family shots. You had to admit that it was awfully endearing to see him grow up through the pages, and you quite enjoyed that Alex was letting his family get away with so much teasing. You knew that he could barely get agitated in your presence, due to your mutation; but you felt like he almost didn't mind it anyways.

By the time his mom was telling Scott to clear the plates from the table, neither of you could stop smiling, stealing glances at each other every so often. He couldn't get over how beautiful you were without even trying, and he swore he didn't know when it started — it'd always just been like that.

"I'll help," You volunteered, clearing some plates and glasses from their place, and following the younger brother to their kitchen in order to help with the dishes. You'd always liked to help when you were a visitor, but you particularly wanted to this time, since you'd be staying with them for a while.

As you walked away, Alex's gaze couldn't help but follow you, his head resting on his palm with his elbow on the table. His lips were curved into a pleasant, subconscious smile.

"So . . . you are going to ask her out, right?" His mom asked, and at first, he didn't even process it. She was a very straight-forward woman, but her tone was kind and free of judgment. He was used to telling her mostly everything about his life, despite how guarded he came off as. The truth was; he really just had nothing to tell, usually.

He flustered, "Jeez, mom. Talk a little louder, why don't you?" An unmistakable blush filled his face, and his dad couldn't help but elbow his wife to get her to stop embarrassing him.

"What? I can't pry?" She asked her husband indignantly, and Alex couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly, trying to think of a way to escape the situation as fast as he could.

"What she's trying to say is . . . you seem happier than usual," His dad explained more amicably. He'd always been the one that tried to bridge the gap between their mom's blatantness (who could blame her, though), and the boys. He was a softy by all accounts, and didn't want to scare his kids away by putting too much pressure on them.

Alex couldn't think quick enough, and was now held down by their expectant gazes. It wasn't like he wasn't planning to ask you out, it's just that he didn't want to admit it to his parents before he'd even admitted it to himself. It was nice to just be in his little world with you, and not worry about any of the things he usually did — which was practically everything.

It sounded dumb, but he didn't want to have to acknowledge anything real. Being with you was a dream, and he didn't want to do anything that would ever jeopardize what you had with each other. He couldn't imagine a life with you not in it; not there to help him calm down, not there to stay up with him until the early hours, not there to make him laugh, or tell him everything would be okay. He'd grown so close to you, and if asking you out might flip everything on its head, he didn't even want to think about it.

But he did — kind of constantly. Lately, that was.

He'd known he was in love with you a couple of months in, when he couldn't stop thinking about you. When he woke up, when he had nothing to do, and when he desperately needed to concentrate on something else. In his dreams. Wanting desperately to be around you, hear your voice, just take you in. He resigned himself to the fact that he'd never take it anywhere with you, and simply filed away the thought as if he'd barely had it. Alex continued to adore you, and he wasn't surprised that people began to notice. He hardly spoke around anyone else; let alone laughed with them, and held their hand, and got caught staring at them. You'd never really talked about it together, and Alex was more than thankful for that. He wasn't sure how long he could hold out if you looked him in the eyes and really asked him.

His leg was bouncing underneath the table as he finally replied, "I mean . . . just don't say anything. I'm figuring it out still," he admitted, not meaning to sound as desperate as he did.

"We won't say a word," His mom waved him off with a casual demeanor, but his heart was rattling in his chest that you might overhear anything. He didn't really regard his mom as someone who could keep a secret.

In the kitchen, you could barely hear them over the dishes clattering in the sink, and Scott making pleasant conversation with you. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbow and his hands had disappeared beneath the bubbles. You stood beside him with a cloth, drying items off as he finished rinsing them — not aware of what was happening on the other side of the wall.

_________

As everyone went off to bed, Alex dragged you outside. With his hand in yours, he pulled you across the dimly illuminated porch, and down the wooden steps to his grass.

"Okay, stay here a sec," He told you, and you couldn't help but smile at how excited he seemed. Alex headed back inside, leaving you to look up at the night sky to keep you company. They lived further away from the city than you did when you were a kid, so you could see more stars than usual. It was nice.

You were just beginning to get engrossed in the constellations when you heard him coming back. He had a blanket thrown over his shoulder, and he carried two pillows under his arm. Subconsciously he took your hand in his free one, and guided you to the corner of the garden where a huge oak tree was planted in the soil. It had a rope swing hanging off one of its branches, and you could see the boys initials carved into the trunk as you got closer. It was the kind of tree that would be in the center of a park, and you'd always wanted one at your home like it when you were younger — to climb in, to build a treehouse, to do whatever you thought you wanted when you were a kid.

He lay out the tartan blanket, and then the cushions, before pulling you down to the floor with him. You couldn't help but observe how willing he was to help you, and even go out of his way to do things for you. It wasn't unusual, but you'd always liked it. Ever since you'd started being friends, it was opening doors for you, and asking permission before almost all physical touch, and bringing you a snack while you studied because he knew you needed it. He was very quietly considerate, and it was something you really enjoyed finding out about him as you got closer.

You lay on your backs, looking up at the inky sky that was obscured by some of the oak's winding branches and leaves. "I swear I can never find the North Star," You told him softly, and he was sure you'd mentioned that before sometime — but he loved to hear you say it a second time, anyways. Your eyes were glued to the view, pupils bouncing across the dark atmosphere to find what you were looking for. Alex fought back every bone in his body that wanted him to just watch you just as ardently as you did with the stars.

Neither of you chose to say anything, taking in a couple of beats of silence together for the first time all day. You'd been so busy with other people — that just having you sit with him wordlessly felt therapeutic.

After a few moments, you looked over at him, head tilted to the side on your fluffed pillow. Your features drifted into a fond smile, watching the way his light hair fell, wanting desperately to brush your hands through it like you had a few times before. He felt your gaze, turning to meet it — only for both of you to be flustered by how close you really were.

His shoulder brushed against yours, and you must have only been a couple of inches apart at maximum. Despite the fact that you could feel your blush, you reached for his hand, fingers nudging against his. He took your hand in his warm grasp, managing a little amused smile — but you could tell in his eyes that he looked dreamy; absent, even.

In that moment, he felt like he could admit everything, and it didn't agitate him one bit. That's what it was like with you. And he wasn't dumb enough to actually let it slip, but he wished he could. You made things way too easy for him to pull down his walls and let you in, and to love you. And God, you were so close, your hair falling in your eyes, your skin glowing in the moonlight. He thought that you could take his breath away without even trying.

Instead, reaching up absently, Alex brushed a strand of hair from your face, not seeming to notice that you could see him staring fondly the entire time. His vision flittered across your cheeks, his lips twitching upwards at the pink that blossomed warmly.

Enamored words slipped from his mouth as he watched you, a gentle glow in his blue eyes, "You know . . . you make me so . . ." He trailed off as if he couldn't find the right word, and you couldn't help but smile smally.

"Calm?" You asked.

It was a well known fact why the two of you made a particularly good match — he was a hothead, and your mutation countered that. It helped him control his powers, and it meant that your mutation didn't have the lethargic affect on him that it had on some other people. Although you knew there was a natural reason for Alex to 'use' you — it had never felt like that. From the beginning, you were magnetized to each other. He didn't know what it was, but you made him smile more than anyone, and you were so caring and honest and understanding. He just drifted to you, and you welcomed into your life with open arms. You'd always loved his tenderness that he hid under the layers of his pessimistic, moody personality — and he loved that he could feel vulnerable around you without being judged, or made to feel like it was stupid.

"Happy," He corrected you lowly, and your face remained flushed under his gaze. The moment was intimate, and the way he admitted it was making your heart thump for some reason — stomach breaking into butterflies when his grip didn't move from your jaw, holding you steady so that your eyes met. Alex, he was always reminding you of how important you were to him. He'd never had anyone like you in his life, and he wasn't going to let you slip through his fingers. Not by any means.

You could have sworn that both of you were leaning in for a moment, letting your fondness for each other spill over. But as quickly as it happened, he was pulling his touch away, clearing his throat and shifting away like nothing had occurred.

"Um . . . I can show you where the North Star is, if you want."

"Sure, Al. I'd like that."

_______________

You spent the next few days with Alex's mom and brother respectively, helping them with whatever tasks they needed to attend to out of the house. By the third day of errands, you were mildly exhausted, getting back to the Summer's house at 9 in the night. To be fair, Scott was a riot to hang out with, but you were starting to get concerned for your best friend. Even at school, you spent more time together — so you weren't sure how he faired during the time that you were gone with various people.

You were sharing a bed mostly, but the night before, Alex had opted for the couch, saying that you could take it for yourself. You weren't sure why — but you respected his decision nevertheless, ignoring the fact that you felt super lonely without him sleeping next to you like he usually did. That was partially why you were so tired as you made your way up the stairs to Alex's childhood bedroom, turning the knob once you reached the door. Despite the fact that it wasn't too late, you somehow expected him to be fast asleep. The house was quiet, and he'd been in the habit of mostly avoiding you during all of the time you actually had free between your tasks with his family. You figured it wasn't a stretch.

When you did finally step inside, you clicked the door shut behind you, observing his figure sitting on the bed. There was only one lamp on for a light source, illuminating the room dimly — but you could see him just fine. His back was to you, and you could tell he was resting his elbows on his knees from how he hunched over, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he breathed deeply. He must have noticed you belatedly, turning as you walked over to the bed, his expression unreadable as he observed your presence.

You dropped your things on the nightstand, "Hey, Alex," You greeted in a murmur, taking a space on the sheets so that you could unlace your shoes, and pry them off. You could feel his gaze on you, but didn't say much else, trying to hide the way your heart picked up pace.

That night that he was so open with you, lying under the stars, felt like just a couple of moments ago — and so far away at the same time. You didn't know if it happened to be a coincidence that he pulled away from you after that. Maybe he regretted how close you got to each other, how much he'd divulged, and how you barely almost kissed. The more you thought about it, the more your head pounded. So you ignored both your feelings, and the way he was staring you down. You'd finally shed your shoes and jacket, letting your vision flicker to meet his for the first time.

His lips were pulled into a tight line, and he looked more tense than you were used to — clearly contemplating something you couldn't begin to figure out. This was more similar to Alex when you first met him, than anything else — and it unnerved you. You could tell how he'd changed when you weren't around.

You reached out to him, your hand going to touch his. He recoiled, and you paused in a stunned silence. Since you'd met, he'd never shied away from you in the slightest. In fact, he was so touch starved because of how he acted, that he cherished every moment you shared together — hugging, or cuddling, or lying all over each other whenever you got the chance. After a second, him seeing your shocked reaction, he couldn't help but hold his hand out to you. You took it with a small, encouraging smile, and he breathed out slightly in return, seemingly relieved you weren't offended by his first reaction. His shoulders dropped, and he knew he couldn't stay upset for too long. The day before, he'd barely allowed himself to be around you because he knew he couldn't be upset when you were there. And in all honesty; he wanted to be sad. He wanted to be angry, too.

It had been on his mind the longer you stayed with his family — and he couldn't ignore it anymore. He'd stayed up tearing his hair out about it the night before, but decided he had to tell you for both your sakes.

He couldn't go on pretending that he hadn't fallen for you.

It was all so obvious before, and it took him a while to realize; but now he couldn't seem to ignore it if he tried (and boy did he try — suppressing feelings was his forté). He'd come to the conclusion that he should probably tell you before it slipped out somehow: or worse, you confronted him about it yourself.

But now that you were looking at him, he didn't know how he was going to do it at all. He couldn't bare making you uncomfortable, given that you were supposed to spend your Summer with them. If you turned him down he didn't know how either of you would handle it.

"What's been going on, Alex?" You asked, (e/c) eyes gentle as you padded over the bed, crossing the duvet so that you could be next to him, recapturing his hands in yours. They were cold from being outside, but he was warming you already.

He watched you with a smile pulling to his lips that he couldn't help, noting your simple sweet act, and the kind empathy to your expression when you were finally thigh to thigh with him — like you usually were. He'd missed that, no matter how stubborn he was in the past couple of days. How close you got to him without a care in the world. Little did he know, your heart flittered in your chest as he peered down at you — and you could tell he was fighting something on the inside. Like he wasn't sure whether he should say what he wanted to.

"It's nothing," He mumbled, and it was just loud enough for you to hear.

You squeezed his hand comfortingly, and he looked up as you shook your head, "That's bullshit, Al — and you know it." You'd always had the uncanny ability to see through all the other bullshit, and know just what was upsetting him. But you couldn't ever guess what was on his mind then.

"I want to tell you something . . . but I'm afraid it might scare you away. I'd never want to —" He stopped mid-sentence, like he didn't know how to word it, "To do anything that would ruin our friendship." The way he spoke was borderline hopeless, and you felt your heart tugging at his admittance.

"There's nothing that you could say that would make me leave you. You know that right?" He'd told you all about his childhood, his powers, his time in solitary, serving in the army — you'd heard it all, and you knew how he hurt. But you'd never judged him for it, and you always held that same reverence and love for him that he couldn't begin to understand. "We're in this together, whether you like it or not . . . okay?" Your was gentle, and he was beyond grateful for the fact that you were so open. It did serve to make him any less anxious, though.

"Yeah . . . just . . . promise this won't make anything different between us," He borderline begged.

"Of course," You told him as earnestly as you could, "I promise."

He looked like he was working up the courage, getting up from his spot as he ran his fingers through his hair. You'd seen him stressed before — but usually, your powers would stop him from getting built up at all. For some reason, whatever he felt, whatever he had to say was surpassing you mutation's ability so suppress it. He was pacing, before he finally turned to face you, meeting your concerned stare. Alex loved your eyes, and he felt himself swallowing down the lump in his throat as he finally let it all spill out.

"This is so dumb, and you just have to know it at this point, but . . . I'm pretty sure I'm totally and completely in love with you—" He looked like he was going to carry on, but he paused, watching your reaction as if surprised he'd even said it. There was really nothing else that he could bring himself to say — and he didn't think he needed to, with the way your mouth fell open slightly. He swore he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and every moment before you spoke felt like forever.

"I— I—" You stuttered, the bridge of your nose turning crimson under his gaze. You'd always been like this around him; but it was different that time. You really looked like you didn't know what to say, and overwhelmed laugh escaping you as your stomach brimmed with butterflies, "Alex—"

"I'm sorry if this ruins everything, but I had to tell you. I'll get over it, I swear—"

"Alex?" You cut him off, standing from the bed so that you were finally near eye-level. He looked weary to hear what you were going to say, but took your hands when you offered them out for him to hold.

"Yes?" He breathed, and it was shakier than he wished it would've been, his head spinning with thoughts — because, for once, you were the one that was unreadable.

You tugged him closer, and soon, your arms were unexpectedly wrapping around him in a tight hug. He seemed surprised, but didn't argue with your tender action, letting his arms slip around you so that he could hold you closer — thanking God that you hadn't immediately pushed him away. Your head leaned against his chest for a beat, and when you pulled apart, both of you momentarily missed it. His arms didn't leave their place around you, and you didn't seem to budge either, as he looked down at you with quiet adour.

"I'm totally in love with you, too," You admitted softly, a smile breaking out across your face as you finally gathered yourself enough to reply.

He was seemingly shocked, as if he didn't expect you to say it back. And it was true — he'd convinced himself in the past weeks that you'd never like him back, and him admitting his feelings was doomed to fail; he just had to bite the bullet. And yet there you were, wrapped up in his warmth, sharing his pink cheeks and giddy happiness.

"I've kind of wanted to kiss you since the first day we met," Alex told you, tone low and in the back of his throat — like it was when he woke up in the mornings. You couldn't help but admire it, leaning into his palm with a hum.

You couldn't hold back the way you flushed as he beamed down at you, "Are you gonna do it, or what?"

Your teasing tone gave him the courage to close the gap between the two of you, lips touching to yours gingerly. It wasn't until you kissed back, that he seemed rather encouraged — deepening it with unanticipated fervor. He put every last desperate feeling he had into it, and you did the same — cherishing how his other hand moved across your body slowly, inching up before coming to rest on the other side of you face.

When you pulled apart, he loved how swollen your lips looked already, both of you letting out labored breaths.

"I can't believe I finally got to do that," He let out, and you couldn't help but push back against his chest playfully, despite the way he flattered you.

"You're a dork."

"Your dork," He corrected, and your expression matched his smiling one, pulling him in for another soft, sweet kiss, where your hands drifted into his blonde hair —  sighing as you enjoyed each other's touch.

"Whatever you say, Summers," You murmured against him, both of you filled with a warm, content feeling as you finally expressed what you'd wanted to for so long.