Author's note: I'm sorry butI don't know what I'm doing. Parts of this I had to force, parts came on their own. It's a mess.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable herein and I have no intention of profiting on my writing.

Limerence: (noun) : a longing to be in a perfect romantic relationship with another specific person, generally not related to physical attraction, but rather with the degree to which a limerent person (a "limerent") perceives another as an ideal mate.

GeezerWench had to work her awesome ass off to clean this shit up. We love her for it.

Limerence

As with all dreams, the memories were there one minute and slipping away the next.

I woke up remembering tasting his skin, pressing my nose to his neck and inhaling his scent, squeezing his hips, and burying myself deep inside his tight ass. I had never felt anything like it, and when I came I saw stars. Behind my eyelids. In my head. They filled my mind.

It made my mouth water and my dick hard just thinking about it.

Then … nothing.

Just seconds before, the dream had been as clear as day. The next, it was dust in the wind. All I knew for sure was that I had been dreaming about Alex. I could feel it hidden in the back of my mind, but it always just out of reach. I tried to focus and draw it out, but every time I felt I got a grip, the ragged remnants of a nearly perfect dream slipped further away, until all I had left was a killer headache.

The night before, I hadn't cared about the lack of drapes or blinds, but that was before the rays of the bright morning sun bore down on me through the filthy window.

Guess it was time to get up.

When I stretched out my arms, I came in contact with the empty sheets on the other side of the bed. They were cool to the touch which could only mean one thing. Alex didn't sleep here last night.

The sudden stabbing pain in my chest almost rivaled the one in my head. I had known he wasn't in the room even before I was fully awake. I'd hoped he'd run out for breakfast, or gone over to Liz and Max's room, but judging by the lack of warmth of the bed, he had been gone for hours.

I had always been strangely in tune with Alex. I sensed when he was near, and when he wasn't. Don't ask me how it worked; it was one of those weird, inexplicable things I learned a long time ago not to question.

Staggering out of bed, the pressure in my temples growing by the second, I pulled on my boxers and slowly made my way towards the door where my bag, and a spare bottle of acetone waited for me. I got as far as the ugly ass torture device called a chair when it hit me; I'd left it in the back of Alex's truck. Sinking to the floor, I rested my head against the chair and almost got poked in the eye by a spring sticking out of the upholstery. Wasn't that the sugar on top of a fresh pile of shit?

A trip to Houston to see Maria's fuck buddy play at The Last Concert Cafe had seemed fun at the time. A little music, a lot of booze, and most of all, getting the hell out of Roswell.

It had been Cam and Max's idea to only take two cars. She shut down every argument by reminding everyone that what we saved on gas could go to liquor, "… plus that whole environment thing."

After some back and forth—trust them to take over for something that wasn't even their idea in the first place— they decided on Max's four door Jeep and Alex's truck; it only seated two, but the bed had a cover, and the cover had a lock, and they needed it to store all our crap.

It wasn't until they drove off, and I was left standing next to Alex's pickup, I realized that had been the plan all along. The morons figured ten hours in close quarters would force me to talk to him. It wasn't like I hadn't tried. I had, believe me, but I never knew what to say without coming off as stupid as he made me feel. I had the highest GPA in our graduating class for fucks sake.

"I don't like to talk and drive," was all he said during the torturous ten-hour drive. I had wanted to fucking kill Max.

After firing off my S.O.S, I dropped my chin to my chest and inhaled deeply through my nose. My eyes popped open. Whatever the hell the pain in my head was it couldn't be a hangover, because I was pretty sure I was still drunk. Why else could I smell Alex? Unless he'd turned invisible during the night.

It could happen.

Maybe.

Okay, probably not. But what other explanation was there?

Breathing deeply, I surrounded myself in his scent. My head lolled to the side and I remembered my dream in vivid detail.

I closed my eyes as it brought a smile to my face.

Max ruined the moment by knocking on the door, and the sweet, hot memories burst like soap bubbles. Just like that they were gone again, and I was back to wanting to kill Max.

Max continued his banging until I opened the door. By the time I reached it, I could barely walk upright from the pain, so when I found it unlocked, I added Alex to my ever growing hit list.

Then I removed him again.

When Max handed me the bottle of nail polish, he gave me the same judgemental look he did every time he thought I'd fucked up. Instead of my usual bitch-back, I just forced a smile. It wasn't worth it. The pain faded almost instantly.

"Jesus, Michael. You smell like a brewery." Max wrinkled his nose, and his mouth twisted in disgust. "You're not getting into my car like that. Take a shower. We're leaving when you're ready."

My head jerked back as if he slapped me. All I could do was stare. "I was supposed to ride with Alex…"

"Not anymore you're not." With that he turned to leave.

"Wait!" I stopped him when he was halfway out the door. "What…? When…? Why…?"

Max released a heavy, soul-weary sigh, like this was all a big inconvenience for him. Well boo-fucking-hoo.

He rubbed his chin, and I had a feeling he was weighing his words carefully. "His text woke us up some time after dawn. It just said he was picking up Maria and to give you a ride." He put up his hands and took a step back. "That's all I know, I swear. Now hurry up and shower so we can get out of here."

The door slammed in my face. I tried to look at the positive, at least he thought about me enough to ask them to give me a ride, right? But it didn't work. It wasn't until I began collecting my clothes off the floor that I noticed my hands were clenched to fists.

The water pressure was so bad I could've pissed a better stream. I used the sink, which was only marginally better, to clean off. When I grabbed my flannel, my knuckles dragged against some crusty shit on the sheet. "Oh, fucking gross!" I was suddenly glad Alex had taken off. How the hell would I have explained this to him? Talk about wet dream.

Valenti came out of their room at the same time I did. He had a funny gait to his walk, but I didn't have it in me to make fun of him. I continued out to the parking lot, figuring I'd just wait in the car while Max settled the bill.

I stopped just outside the door and inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air go to my head. I missed smelling Alex—it never came back after the headache vanished.

Leaning against the side of the car, Cam had her back to me, talking to Liz who was perched on top of the hood. Her eyes met mine and it was like a Mexican fuck-off. She looked pissed.

Cam threw me a look over her shoulder, "Alex hooked up with the bartender?" she asked in a hushed voice. "Good for him."

My face fell. No.

Liz glared at me, then turned back to Cam. "Yeah, guess he needed to get out of Roswell to find himself a man. And did you get a look at that ass? Umm-hmmm. If I didn't have Max..."

"Tell me about it," Cam cackled. "And didn't he live a block away from Todd? Makes sense he's picking up Maria instead of driving all the way here for this one," she jerked her thumb in my direction.

Fuck. Fuck! This isn't happening.

Cam turned then, and gave me a knowing look. "You feeling okay, Guerin? You're a little green...," she gestured in the vicinity of my face. "Right around here."

My stomach twisted uncomfortably, and if she didn't stop talking, I was gonna throw up on her boots. "I'm gonna go see what's taking so long."

I caught up with Max as he exited the hotel lobby, looking ready to kill someone. "The manager refused to let me check out until he checked our rooms. You two," He pointed a finger at Cam, then Valenti, who was about to get into the backseat, "are disgusting. What is wrong with you?" He turned on me next. "And you…" he shook his head. "You owe me twenty bucks. I had to pay for the lube you used."

What the…? "What...?"

"You couldn't have waited until you got home for that?"

"But I didn't…"

"Whatever, let's just go."

~o~o~o~

We drove up outside the CrashDown just seconds before Alex. I hung back when the others disappeared inside. I wanted my stuff so I could go home and get some hours in before school. Alex stayed in his truck, talking to Maria. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but both wore identical serious expression. After a while he nodded, they hugged, and after a glare my way, she left the car to join the rest of them in the café. Then I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I walked up to the cab of the truck and stared at Alex until I finally got him to look up. He stared right through me.

It was a physical blow to my heart, and for a couple of seconds I couldn't breathe. A fist squeezed my heart—it didn't feel metaphorical or figurative. My knees buckled. Is this how it feels to die? My head spun and the next thing I knew I had to catch myself on the sidewalk.

I must've blacked out or something, because when I came to, Alex was standing over me, mouth twisted and eyes dark. "Are you drunk?"

"What?" I blinked. "No. I just… haven't eaten in…" Too long.

Alex helped me to my feet. As soon as I regained my balance he dropped my arm as if it burned him.

He was fast, but I was faster. "What is this?" I asked about his swollen knuckles, gently running my thumb across the red and torn skin. "Did he…?" I swallowed around the lump growing in my throat. "Did someone hurt you?"

Alex laughed and pulled his hand from mine. It sounded harsh, loud and raw against my skin. "Don't act like you give a fuck."

"Alex…" I reached out for him, but he jerked away from me. "You can tell me." I'll kill him for you.

Alex shook his head. When he turned to unlock the truck bed I noticed the dark bruise on the back of his neck. "What the fuck?" How many more were there? Did the bartender fucker force him? I wanted to ask, but, fuck me, if I wasn't more afraid to find out he hadn't. It just made me hate myself more. I leaned closer to see better. My blood turned cold. "Is that a hickey?"

Alex looked around us, "Could you not shout it out to the whole town?"

"You're not exactly hiding it," I gritted through my teeth. "Anyone with eyes can see it."

Alex paled considerably, his eyes darkened, and something stormy muddied the chocolate brown. He took a small step forward. I almost thought he was going to touch me. I could practically feel it. "Please, Guerin," he pleaded. "I don't want the others to know."

Know what, that you're a fucking slut? I wanted to scream the words in his face, jealousy seared my insides to ash, but despite the agony I felt I didn't want him to be in pain. Not really. I couldn't look at him anymore and started pulling my stuff from the bed of his truck, "Whatever you say, Alex. Your secret is safe with me."

~o~o~o~

A month went by during which I barely saw Alex. He was never at the CrashDown at the same time I was. He even stopped showing up at P.E. He was avoiding me. What I couldn't figure out was why he did it, or why it bothered me so much. Our friends fucked, that didn't mean we'd ever hung out on a regular basis, but we had been bound to run into each other from time to time. But unless you counted the sight of his back—I didn't— he had been practically invisible.

The weekend before graduation we hung out at Valenti's house. Most of the senior class, and the occasional junior, showed up to celebrate our impending freedom by getting drunk, stoned, fucked, or all of the above. Finals were over, classes were done, and in just four short days we would no longer be students at Roswell High.

Too many late nights had taken its toll on everyone. People began trickling out around ten pm, and by midnight it was down to the eight of us, lounging around in Valenti's living room. Cam had parked her ass on one of the chairs, with Valenti kneeling by her feet, his hands against his thighs, while Max sat in the other, Liz on his lap, looking all googly and mushy. It was sickening. Maria humped Chris, her latest musician, in the corner of the sectional couch and Alex and I occupied the ends.

Bored out of our minds, but not ready for the night to be over yet, we each tried to come up with ideas. Some genius even suggested Truth or Dare. Okay, so the genius might have been me, but I never thought they'd go for it—we weren't in junior high anymore. They thought it was a great idea, and it wasn't like I could veto my own suggestion, so it was decided. We were playing Truth or Dare. Yay.

With a few alterations.

No one wanted to prank call or run naked around the house, and since we were all paired up, more or less, daring to kiss someone was out. The result: Truth or Drink. Since there wasn't much left to drink besides the punch, answering truthfully was the easy option.

"It's a family recipe," Valenti defended himself, for the gazillionth time.

Maria stopped sucking face with Chris long enough to tell him, "You need a new family."

He flipped her off, only for Cam to chastise him with a flick to his ear with her long red nails. His shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry."

"We'll talk later," she said with a dangerous spark in her eye, and even though she ran her fingers gently through his hair, the warning was clear.

Valenti paled considerably, then adjusted his too tight Levi's. He must've heard something I didn't. A promise? The things those two got into… Max had told me what he found in their hotel room. They were freaks. Their relationship was freaky. But it worked for them. It wasn't my business.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Alex glaring at me. He'd been doing that on and off since he got there. In a minute or two he'd be back to ignoring me. I honestly couldn't say which was worse. Either way it meant I had his attention. It was what I needed, what I craved. It was the dreams, always the same one every night. They messed with my head. Made me long for things I'd never had.

"Who's first?" Valenti's voice broke through my Alex-induced fog. "Okay, I'll go first," he continued when no one else volunteered. "Guerin, are you an ass or breast man?"

Seemed like all of us hadn't left junior high behind after all.

Alex surprised the fuck out of me by answering in my stead. "Ass. Any ass will do. He's not picky," he turned those beautiful dark brown eyes on me. "Isn't that right, Guerin?"

Frowning, I studied him, but his eyes weren't on me any longer. "Uh..." I wasn't sure what he meant by it, but I clearly liked both sexes… I shrugged. "I guess so."

I asked Max something generic and non-sex-related about the future, and so it went on for a couple of rounds. Then, when it was time for Valenti to ask again he turned his attention to Alex. " You still a virgin, Manes, or did you finally do something about it?"

I held my breath as I waited for him to answer, and it felt as if everyone in the room held theirs. I had asked myself the same question since Houston, but I didn't really want to know.

Alex was quiet for a long time, then he looked at me with some emotion I didn't recognize and poured himself a shot of that damned punch.

The bottle of beer I've been nursing the past few hours made a popping sound and a geyser of foam shot out of it. I jumped up, and furiously—and uselessly—wiped at my wet pants. "What the fuck!"

Max hands were on Liz's hips, ready to pull her to safety if it came to that. I had just revealed myself as different, and he would have my back if I needed him. We hadn't counted on the acceptance of drunk teenagers.

"Guerin, did you piss on yourself or did you just come in your pants?" Valenti guffawed.

I forced a laugh. "Fuck if I know. I must have shaken it or something." I tried the shrug with a smile thing. "They don't make beer like they used to."

"Are we playing or what?" Max asked gruffly, not over the scare.

"I guess it's my turn," Alex said, filled his glass with punch and nudged it in my direction. "Guerin, be honest here. Have you ever been so drunk that you couldn't remember what you'd done the next day?"

"Wha…?"

"You're not gonna answer?" Sneering he pushed himself to his feet, swaying somewhat. He pushed the glass a little closer to my end of the table. "Drink up."

I had stuck to my two beers the whole night, and while I wasn't drunk, I couldn't say the same for Alex. He had been guzzling the punch as if it was water. I had no idea what he was talking about. It was clearly personal, what I didn't get was why. "Alex.. what.. I don't...?" I shook my head to clear it so I could make sense of it, because I didn't have a clue.

"Uh, guys…?" Maria eased off Chris' lap and put herself between Alex and me. "How about we all just relax, okay?"

Alex stalked around her and over to me. "I knew you were the kinda guy who fucked and ducked," he said, jaw and fists clenched. "I just didn't know you fucked and forgot, too."

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Alex got close enough we almost touched, and for his breath to mingle with mine. My heart beat faster. "You're my problem."

"I'm-I'm your problem?" I shoved my thumb in my chest. "Me?" I pointed my finger in his face, he swatted it away, so I poked him in between his pecs. "You're the problem. I try… But every time… It's… You..." I shook my head again. " I didn't even make you pay me for the lube."

Alex wrapped his fingers around my wrist to push my hand away, but at my words he froze. "The lube?"

"Yeah, the lube you brought on your little date with the fucking bartender. You owe me twenty bucks."

"My date…?" Alex frowned in confusion. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?

Cam stood. "You clearly need to talk, but we don't have to listen to it. You can use Kyle's room for privacy."

"Just don't fuck in my bed." Valenti snickered.

She smacked him on top of his head. "Shut up, Kyle."

"I'm sorry."

Alex walked in first, and stood with his back to me until I closed the door behind us. Slowly, he turned until he faced me, and looked at me with tired eyes. He took a deep breath, "You think I had sex with Roy?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Who the fuck is Roy?"

Alex sighed. "The bartender."

I rolled my eyes. "I know you fucked him. How else would you explain the lube, the hickey?"

"Fuck, Guerin, you're killing me here." Alex sank down on Valenti's bed. "Have you ever seen a hickey like it on someone else? Have you? Think."

I knitted my brows together. "I don't know, maybe. Why?"

Sober now Alex tipped his head to the side, "On the neck on all those girls you fucked in the janitor's closet?"

My skin burned. "I-I didn't know you knew about them."

"Oh, I knew," he screwed his eyes shut and when he opened them they shone wetly. I'd never seen him look as sad before. "I saw you."

I walked up to the bed and sat down next to him. "You saw me? When did you see me?"

"Second week of senior year. I was in the janitor's closet, waiting for Grant…"

"Please." I gritted my teeth. "I don't want to know."

"And you think I did?" Groaning he buried his face in his hands, . "You can't even imagine how I felt."

My fingernails dug into my palms, I noticed my hands were clenched into fists. "Why do you even care? You hate me."

Alex straightened and drew a shaky breath. "It would be so much better if I did."

We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. My head swam with everything he told me. I felt tired to the bone, but it wasn't over yet. "Back up… To the hickey. Are you saying I gave it to you…?" I shook my head vehemently. "No way. I would've remembered that."

"You did more than that." He laughed darkly. "And you obviously don't remember anything ."

"Alex, please." I cupped his face, and with a gentle pressure, I made him turn his head and look at me. My heart ached for him. "Tell me you're joking," I begged.

A lone tear slid down his cheek. "You didn't even kiss me. You just …"

"Did I… " My eyes prickled. "Oh, God, Alex, did I force myself on you?"

Alex pulled away. "No," he wiped at the tears with the back of his hand. "You didn't force me. But you didn't really give me a choice either."

My knees trembled when I got to my feet and started pacing. "I raped you." I grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged until my scalp burned. "I fucking raped you." I stopped in front of Alex, but didn't step closer so as not to scare him. "I'm so sorry, Alex. So fucking sorry."

"I told you you didn't rape me. You didn't. I wanted you. I still do."

Alex spoke the last words so quietly I wasn't sure if I heard him right or if I imagined it all.

"I thought they were dreams." I was back to pacing. "I have them every night, you know."

"Have what?"

"Dreams about you, I dream that I'm touching you, tasting you, feeling you…" I stopped in front of him again, but this time I dared to walk closer until our knees touched. "But they weren't dreams, were they? They're memories."

Alex nodded, a small, wistful smile played on his lips. "Yeah…"

"I wanted you from the moment I hit puberty, did you know that?"

That got me a laugh, and it sounded genuine that time. "No, I didn't."

I took his hands in mine. My heart swelled when he laced our fingers together. "You're the only guy I ever wanted, the only person, and I don't even remember you." I closed my eyes. "How can I not remember you?"

Alex tugged on my hands until he pulled me down to sit next to him on the bed. His lips felt soft against mine. Wet. "You'll just have to make it up to me."

I kissed him again. Just because I could, and because I couldn't not. I teased his lips open, my tongue circling his. He tasted just as I thought he would. I pulled him close, chest to chest. We didn't break the kiss until we had to stop and breath, even then it was too soon.

"Guerin … er, Michael, I ... I think I—" Alex stopped himself in time.

I was grateful. Not that I didn't want to hear his words, because I couldn't think of anything I wanted to hear more, but because we shouldn't be there. Not yet. "It's too soon," I whispered. Still, I had to let him know he wasn't alone. "But I will say it. Aloud and so many times you'll get sick of me. But for now, how about I just show you what you mean to me."

The sweetest sound, a giggle almost, escaped him. Alex blushed and put his hand over his mouth.

"Don't," I whispered. "I like it." I wanted to hear more. Much more. Removing his hand, I replaced it with my lips. Serious, deep, meaningful words … promises … would have to wait until another day.

The End

Endnotes: This is the last I'll write for this pairing. It's been fun. Thank you for reading