[Nicholas Archer]

Spring, 1995

At two in the afternoon on a fine, spring day, most people should have been enjoying the lovely rebirth of the sun into the world after the long winter was well and truly broken. And even if they weren't necessarily people willing to glory in the weather outside, it was only early afternoon - the day was still young.

It felt less young, however, when one wasn't actually sure when one had last slept.

In a flagrant abuse of his natural circadian rhythms, Nicholas Archer's days were now not set by daylight hours, but by how long he could sustain himself on the contents of his medical textbooks alone. Food, sleep, the idle pleasures of a beer and a book - all fell to the wayside in terms of importance when compared to studying.

Such was the life of a final year medical student. Such was the life of a young person about to be thrown into their first sample rotations before they could even qualify for their internships. Such was the life of Nick. And, honestly? The pressure was starting to show.

The tousle-haired man yawned widely and inelegantly, mouth stretching until his jaw clicked. He rubbed at his dry eyes with one ink-stained knuckle, trying to squint down at his note cards in spite of how his vision was grainy and just the tiniest bit dark at the edges. How long had he been awake now? Actually, scratch that, it didn't matter - unless he'd somehow miraculously developed the ability to absorb facts via diffusion where his tomes of anatomy and pharmacology and epidemiology were concerned, sleep was not an option. Sleep represented lost hours, sleep represented wasted time, it represented giving in.

And Nick - too stubborn, too pig-headed, too tired Nick - was not a quitter. Hence why he reached for the french press...

...only to find it empty. The man stared at it, wide eyes combining with his two-day old stubble and erratically curling hair to make him look just a little bit insane, and his expression seemed to suggest that the world was about to end. How was he meant to continue learning about the precise strategies of metastasising tumours if he didn't have any coffee?

Stranded as he was in a sea of textbooks and what was probably half a forest's worth of paper covered in his sprawling, dramatically looping handwriting, Nick was loath to move. Being one to eschew desks, he always seemed to work best on the floor, with his necessities strewn around him where he could see them all at once. His bare feet poked out from the ragged hems of too-old jeans, worn butter soft from long use, and the baseball shirt he wore was distinctly more due to sports patriotism than any sort of fashion - all of that combined with the forgotten pencil tucked behind one ear and the aghast expression on his face made him look far younger than his twenty-six years. Or was that just the helpless 'what do I do without coffee when my brain ceased to effectively function about three chapters of oncology ago?' look he was currently sporting...?

"Aleeeeeeeex." In spite of being a self-proclaimed tough guy - an athlete, a drinker, a man with an iron will where his beliefs were concerned - he could sound remarkably plaintive at times. Especially if those times involved finals, no coffee and a far more elegant than he lover who could make any situation better. Even a caffieneless one.

[Mulligan]

Finals were the work of the devil. That was the only possible explanation for their existence. Wicked, horrendous things that drove men to madness, stealing away every last ounce of their souls. A year ago Alex had been where Nick was at now, slowly drowning in tome after tome, trying to both finish up his law degree and prepare for the bar, the most important test he’d ever take in his life. Of course, like Nick, he’d not been confidant enough in his knowledge, confident enough in his ability, and so he’d studied, and studied and studied, until he slowly vanished, replaced by facts and figures and statistics.

All of this meant that Alex understood, that he could sympathize with the man who held his heart. It meant that he knew when to be silent and stay out of his lover’s hair. It meant that he knew all of these things, yes, but it didn’t mean that he had to like any of them. Because he didn’t.

By nature Alex was a physical and expressive man, always had been, always would be. Since Nick the need for affection and reassurance, especially of the contact sport variety, well, it had increased exponentially. But even if the lack of physical contact hadn’t been difficult to start, even if it wasn’t hard enough not to casually stroke Nick’s hair or run a hand across his back, the need for silence was almost murderous for Alex.

Music was a way of life for the young associate. At the office, on the subway, at home. Even if he couldn’t blare it as he often chose too, his trusty Discman offered him the choice of different genres and tunes, all funneled directly into his waiting ear drums. The problem was, though, even if the music wasn’t being shared with the room, Alex wasn’t the most silent audience. If he wasn’t humming along, or outright singing, he’d be dancing or moving or grooving. On the subway people just thought him insane, in the office, well, luckily he was quite good at his job, allowing for such things to be overlooked as charming and eccentric. At home, though, in times like these, it meant that even the Discman couldn’t come into play. Hrmph.

But they were a couple, and a good one at that, they had been for years. Push and pull, give and take, balance. This was what made them work. Opposites might have attracted, but it was their dedication to one another that made up for all the differences in between. At least that was Alex’s opinion on the matter. He respected Nick’s needs, and Nick, well, Alex likely loved him more than was healthy, so Nick didn’t really have to do anything, even though he was thoughtful and kind and just perfect in the blonde man’s eyes.

So Alex had come home, quietly, that afternoon, having worked only a half day, casework in hand. Feet freed and tie removed, slacks had been rolled up to his ankles (like they always were when he was home) and the first three buttons of his oxford had been undone. Relaxation could now take effect. Normally this was the time when music would come into play, but in respect to Nick and their balance, it couldn’t today. Opting instead for silence he’d positioned himself on the couch, leaning against one arm and stretching his legs across the length of it, manila folders filled with work strewn about his lap. Nick was more than an arm’s length away, a hurricane of paper around him, oblivious to the world other than the one he was studying, but he was close enough. Alex was simply contented that they were breathing the same air.

Hearing his name was unexpected. Other than random and nonsensical mumbles that had fallen from lips he knew all to well, Alex hadn’t really heard words from Nick in hours. “Right here.” He replied almost sleepily, stretching in the afternoon sun like some sort of lazy cat, before turning to see whatever was the matter. At first everything looked status quo, a tired Nick, a whirlwind of books and reams of paper strewn all about. Nick was a little more wild eyed than usual and, ah, the coffee was empty. Throughout the past few days Alex had kept up with things like that when he was home, filling the press, even trying to tempt Nick with a sandwich now and again. Apparently he’d failed in his duty.

Smile crumbling into a frown he rose, scooping up the press before padding into the kitchen, turning on their kettle and digging out the grounds. “You really should eat something.” He chided as he worked, green eyed vision taking in the state of his Nicolas, furrows appearing on his brow. “We have some of my mom’s lasagna left. Or we could order some Golden Bird.” Kettle whistling, Alex filled the press, carrying it carefully back to Nick’s side (along with a clean coffee cup, that one had been used more than long enough), before gracefully taking a seat on the floor near him, waiting for the coffee to brew and for Nick to answer.


i don't like it i don't like it i don't like it. it's the scene in my head but the words aren't right. WHATEVER. i blame school. forgive me. as usual anything that's off, i'll change. <3<3<3

[Nicholas Archer]

In all honesty, Nick hadn't been sure what good whinging his partner's name would bring him - only that, generally, he associated Alex with Making Things Better. Nick was the medical one, the scientific one, but he was often too hot-headed to be useful in any sort of practical sense and when he focussed too much...well, the obvious escaped him. Alex Valentine, however, was the one everybody liked, the one out of the two of them who was nice and friendly and most commonly not an arrogant douchebag when provoked.

Alex...Alex made things better. Alex made Nick better. And somehow Nick had taken that fact, combined it with the variable in which coffee was absent and come up with the notion that his blond lawyer lover was the solution to all of the world's problems. Somehow. But mainly the Coffee Situation.

He made an unintelligible complaining noise when Alex actually responded to his plaintive wail manly request for attention and squinted myopically at his textbook, then back at the coffee pot, then back at Alex. Expecting the blond to understand Nick-ese was just a integral assumption of their curious brand of domestic partnership and, honestly, anyone who expected the would-be doctor to make any sense around exam season clearly didn't know the almost insanely-driven young man particularly well.

It was possible, however, that he may have been pushing it at this point. Just a tad.

All that mattered was that brewing coffee appeared before his eyes and a warm, Alex-shaped body by his side. Nick greeted one with a tiredly delighted look and the other with a boneless slump that left him carelessly draped over the other male's side. Nick had always been appallingly tactile and apparently exhaustion and too many hours spent learning about tumours took away any possible respect he had for personal space.

"Food is for the weak," he mumbled and reached out to defiantly (if listlessly as well) turn the page of the closest textbook. The lure of egg rolls, however, and some horrendously synthetic sweet and sour pork though...

Resignedly, and not at all gracefully either, Nick turned to bury his face in the curve of Alex's neck, stubble catching on both skin and cloth, whichever dared to get in the way of his attempt to seemingly burrow himself into the little hollow he found there, his favourite place on his lover's body. "I'm still taking cancer as a personal insult," he mumbled into Nick's shoulder, a grumble roughening his voice like a vaguely cantankerous dog. "You shouldn't be allowed to try and lure me away from work with the promise of chinese food and your neck." Maybe his peevishness would have been more convincing if he hadn't had to stifle a yawn into Alex's collar. "It's just selfish, Alex. Think of all the tumours that might have been saved if only you hadn't distracted me. In years to come, you will be known as the man who stopped the illustrious Doctor Nicholas Archer from saving the world from those malevolent metastases." Another yawn, even more poorly-hidden this time. "All your fault."

[Mulligan]

Their relationship was … odd, to say the least. To Alex, though, it was perfectly normal, the way that all relationships were supposed to be. For so long he’d not know what it meant to love someone, but it wasn’t that he hadn’t loved, in a way he loved everything, Alex had simply never had the chance to love someone the way that he loved Nick. A love that was filled with passion and lust, tenderness and companionship. For so long he’d been prevented from feeling such things, contented to love Piper, and any woman that might follow, the only way that he could love her. For so long he had been prepared to exist loving in only that way. Thank God that wasn’t the way things ended up.

Nick’s weight against him was comforting, and joy spread through Alex at the contact. He’d been so good, so well behaved, and it had been so difficult. With Nick being the one to initiate, though, for him to be the one to cross the boundary that had been set up for studying purposes, it meant that it was okay now for Alex to reciprocate. And he did. Leaning into being leaned upon their bodies kept one another upright in a miracle of balance.

“Food is for the hungry.” Alex corrected patiently, more contented than he had been in days, suddenly flooded with mental images of their possible futures. Nick, decked out in scrubs, having to be dragged home from the hospital, having to be forced to be fed. Alex all to happy to have his own successful career, one which left him living in law offices and designer suits. Alex also elated at the thought of being able to remind his lover for years to come that, yes, being the most amazing doctor in the world was important, but so too was being loved the way he was loved.

The future wasn’t something Alex thought of often, it was dangerous and uncertain, while the present was more than good enough. Sometimes, though, those images and daydreams would sneak in. A brownstone on the east side, a firm with his name on the door, a room painted in pink, dresses made with tulle and closet hung ballet shoes. These were all things that he wanted, things he wanted with the man whose breath was playing against his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck rise and shivers travel down his spine.

“I’m a selfish man, Nicholas.” Came the purred replied, Alex craning his neck to allow for more exposure, while fingers found their way to dark and messy waves of hair. “Cancer will just have to wait a little longer.” His tone had become husky, but when Nick was involved, it often did, such was a side effect of lips moving against the tender spot on his neck, soothing against the roughness of the stubble which had scrapped before it. Licking his lips Alex swallowed thickly, combing through Nick’s hair, trying to gently tease out any tangles that had made residence within it. “You’re exhausted.” He commented after the second yawn, knowing that he would likely get an argument about the true state of Nick’s tiredness, but also knowing that he, himself, would remain firm on the observation. “How about some food, and then a nap? You can cure cancer in a couple hours and the world won’t mind. Promise.”

more head canon, alex wanted to adopted bbys and play family, whether nick knew or not, s'up to you. i can nix the whole thing, too <3

[Nicholas Archer]

Nick very rarely had ulterior motives - it was a recurring theme with the man, that he always seemed to take the straightest line between two points. In the case of the distance between want and execution, his surprisingly simple, straight-forward personality meant that he didn't think about the effects of his actions. Touching Alex came naturally to him, effortlessly even, and there was something almost childishly unthinking about the way he wormed into his lover's personal space.

The tousle-haired man snorted into Alex's neck and finally grudgingly came back into the sunlight world, chin resting tiredly on a broad shoulder rather than a face smooshed into whatever cradle of flesh and cloth it could find. "Um, no, hi. The lawyer doesn't get to lecture the doctor on science." He went for his best, lofty 'I save lives, don't you know?' look and ruined the effect by nearly yawning in the middle of it again. "Food takes time, is all," he grumbled again, but in an admittedly half-hearted way.

The battle was clearly already won.

He practically turned into a dark-haired pile of medical information saturated goo around the time that Alex started running fingers through his scalp. The blond of the pair was the more elegant one, the feline one and only that prevented Nick from purring in contentment. Instead, he settled for letting out a pathetically long sigh that was equal parts pleasure and an exhaustion that went beyond bone deep.

"You haven't done the necessary tests to medically prove that," Nick mumbled, repositioning himself so that his weight rested more fully against Alex in that he was practically draped entirely across the lawyer now. His tousled head slid from its previously comfortable perch on Alex's shoulder and headed for his lover's lap and bleary grey eyes squinted up at the upside down view he had of the other man now.

"If this is you using your persuasive lawyer wiles on me--." Nick had aimed for a warning tone, but just ended up with fondly exasperated instead. Carelessly he reached up to run his palm briefly over Alex's cheek. "....then, damn you, they're working. Remind me to sulk about this more after I've let you feed me something liberally dosed with MSG." Mmm, additives.

[Mulligan]

Smiles were never something that Alexander found reason to ration. His lips tended to curve upward, crinkling his face into well earned lines, more often than he imagined that most other people did. They suited his personality, though, all those smiles and the way that he sought for the silver lining in every cloud. His cloud that day, and in the several days prior to it, had been Nick's torturing of himself for his studies. As much as Alex understood, he hated to watch the man he loved throw himself so fully into his work, so much so that Nicholas seemed to forget about the things required for survival. It was here that Alex came into play, leaving about small reminders, nudging Nick in the direction of food and drink and sleep.

The silver lining in all of it, though, was the way that the weight of Nick felt against him, the sleepy and silly quips that he fired off as rejoinders causing Alex's mouth to quirk, and for wrinkles to form on the cleanly shaven skin of his cheek. "The lawyer gets to lecture whomever on whatever he wants." Came the reply, Alex turning to nuzzle his partner now that such contact had been removed, doing so in an almost wanton manner, lacking even the slightest sliver of shame. "It's what I do." He added in a teasing whisper, dragging his lips across his lover's temple.

But arguing this case was easier than many of those Alex had already come across. As Nick slid from his shoulder to his lap, lead entirely by the extremely compelling rhythm of Alex's fingers, Alex couldn't help but to be a little smug, the expression worn loosely on his features, lips pursed, eyebrows raised. "My wiles always work." He purred, continuing his ministrations, fingers carding through strands of wavy silk. He'd won, and in doing so been allowed to take care of his lover, the only thing that he ever wanted to do.

For a moment he toyed with the possibility of them going out, but with Nicholas' prone state and the plum that darkened the skin under his eyes, Alex figured that staying home was probably the best idea. Perhaps if he fed him he could get him to sleep, for an hour or two at least. "Sweet and sour pork?" He questioned, reaching backwards for the phone that sat on the side table by the couch, refusing to actually move enough to dislodge the weight which lay upon his lap.

[Nicholas Archer]

Nick had the sort of focus that made tunnel vision look expansive and all-encompassing. When he was concentrating on something, little distracted him. Okay, fine, nothing distracted him. And, very occasionally, that included food, sleep and the temptations presented by his silver-tongued lover. Out of the two of them, Alex was definitely the one with people skills, the one with the gift of the gab and the ability to persuade others to do what he wanted.

Alex was most likely the sole reason that Nick didn't starve to death during each and every exam season. Or at least stayed out of the hospital because wouldn't it be mortifying for a med student to fail to look after their own health when studying to prevent the same sort of mistakes in others? So when he was finally distracted from the world of carcinomas, his attention dragged back into the living, breathing world of bad chinese food and the familiar smell of Alex's aftershave...well, Nick had never been shy about hiding his fondness for the other man.

"Sellout," Nick grumbled, but it hardly had any weight behind it and he shivered agreeably when Alex decided to play dirty and he batted half-heartedly at the blond. "Hey, stop that. I can't think when you do that." He scowled petulantly in the lawyer's direction, but Alex had seen a real look of ferocity worn by Nick before and this most certainly wasn't in even the same league as that. "You know the rules - no fooling around during finals."

....well, it was a rule that Nick attempted to keep in the vain hope that he'd be less distracted from his work if Alex agreed to wear clothes at all time and not do that distracting thing with his mouth and his voice and just generally his face and...um. Something. What had he been saying again? The would-be doctor let out a low groan of resignation and briefly covered his shadowed eyes with one ink-stained hand. "You are a horrible influence, I hope you know this. I hate you." Except, really, it was quite the opposite and that may as well have been code for 'I love you' if Nick hadn't been quite so unashamed about using the actual ones the rest of the time, when Alex wasn't standing between him and his attempts to work himself into an early grave.

From his new position, Nick could look up at Alex with fond, hopeless exasperation written all over his expressive face - a face that was far less neatly-kept than his lover's, given the scruffy stubble and the shadows under his eyes that could have given an eggplant a run for its money in the deepness of its colour. "They do," he agreed, affection making his smile a crooked and lopsided thing. His head butted automatically up into the soothing motion of Alex's fingers and Nick looked at least vaguely placated. "But if you get me two orders, I might think about forgiving you for taking advantage of me in my clearly weakened state." It went unspoken that they knew each others likes and dislikes, habits and hates by now and Nick yawned widely, inelegantly. His eyelids fluttered briefly and he sighed heavily, reaching absently around and up until he could loop his fingers through the closest set of beltloops he could find. "Just one more week..." he mumbled, sounding half asleep already. "Then I'll take you out for a beer or something to say sorry for being quite so crazy."

[Mulligan]

“’m not playin’ dirty.” Came the mumbled reply, Alex still refusing to cease what he was doing, still refusing to feel the slightest ounce of guilt. Nick had initiated this contact and, well, a man could only be so good for so long, especially when your heart’s desire did his best to keep himself from you for days on end. Restraint was difficult for Alex, always, more so when they were home. In public he was playing a role, doing what needed to be done, but even now, as their relationship moved further onwards, Alex’s own insecurities at being himself, at being unashamed for the gender of the person he loved, they were beginning to fade. Maybe he could do this, maybe they could do this, maybe it could be forever.

“Horrible.” He agreed with mock seriousness, smile tugging wildly at his face. “Just completely horrible. Really you’d be so much better off without me.” Eyebrows rose teasingly as green eyes sparkled. Life, to Alex, wasn’t a possibility without Nick being in it. He’d found him years ago, and held on tight ever since, trying to keep up in the whirlwind that had become their life. It had been so hard, so frightening, so wonderful, and Nick. … he’d been there through it all. Hand firm and steady, ready to guide and give.

Rolling his eyes at the calorie intake that the man in his lap was asking for and thinking of all the ways to burn off the fried goodness, Alex dialed a number he didn’t even have to think of, listening to the ring on the other end. Hair stood to attention on the back of his neck as Nick played at his belt loops, hot-cold rushing over his skin, that desire and need coming back, the want to express himself physically, the want to receive the same. Perfectly straight teeth bit harshly down on his lower lip as a whimper sounded in his throat.

At the most opportune inopportune of moments, the well known to Alex, heavily accented matron picked up on the other end, spewing out the name of the establishment in a harried rush, her attention obviously elsewhere, just like it always was. Fingers moving in a pattern meant to sooth Alex made their orders, two orders of sweet and sour pork, two orders of lo mein and a handful of egg rolls and crab rangoons. It was a lot of food, yes, but they were boys in their twenties, and packing away food had never been a problem for them.

Address given, unseen smile offered to the woman who remembered the name Valentine, Alex hung up the receiver, turning his attention back to Nicholas. “Out?” He questioned, tucking the phone back to where it belonged. “Can’t we just stay in? Together?” Going out was definitely something that Alex liked to do, he was no homebody, but having to share Nick with the rest of the world when he just wanted to keep him to himself, away from school books, away from world saving, it was all he really wanted to do.

[Nicholas Archer]

"You're a lawyer - it's your job to play dirty if it means you win." Nick's words were softened by affection, that and the amused huff of air that escaped from his weary lungs. Doctor and lawyer - of course they were going to have different attitudes in their work, different priorities, but it was all banter at the end of the day. Nick loved Alex - fiercely, intensely, completely - and a lot of that had to do with the passion that the blond man approached his career with. He was not someone who would compromise when it came to his beliefs and, really, neither was Nick.

It meant that they worked well and would...right up until they reached a point in their future where their respective strengths might be something that tore them apart over something they couldn't compromise on.

But Nick's thoughts didn't drift in that direction. Even when he was awake and mentally keen enough to examine the intricacies of his relationship with Alex, he was arrogant enough to assume that they would make it work. If love was enough to make a relationship work, then they had that a-plenty. And if it wasn't...well, he was pretty sure he was stronger-willed than Alex. He would make him see the light, eventually, about how there was none in the closet. One day, he would be allowed to walk down the street holding his boyfriend's hand...

If only Nick knew.

But in the present, in the now, Nick was sure of their feelings for each other. Actually, in the now, Nick was just tired. And hungry. And fuzzy-minded in a way that spoke of too much studying and too little sleep. He stretched, wincing a little when limbs that had been in the same position for too long crackled and popped, and ran an absent hand through the errant curls of his often wildly messy hair. "But I wouldn't get laid anywhere near as often," he pointed out sleepily, but with just enough energy left in him to crack an eyelid open and leer weakly at his lover. Sure, he devoted nearly all of his energy into working and that was why he enforced the 'no fooling around until after finals' rule with such surprising strength (resisting Alex Valentine's advances, after all, required ironclad self-control) but he wasn't wholly a robot. At least not when someone had unfairly distracted him from his books with food and the sweetest smile of anyone he knew. "I have to have kept you around this long for something."

Because they had in fact been together for years now and it showed. They moved with easy, almost complacent familiarity around each other by now. Knew each other's likes and dislikes, their opinions, their annoying habits that the other had learned to live with if not always love. Nick knew more about Alex than he did anyone else, so intensely and intricately had the med student forced his way into the life of the beautiful law student he'd met at a party in his sophomore year. He didn't even know his siblings as well as he did Alex.

What Nick knew was this: the angles of Alex's smile, the way he ate far better than the med-student himself did, the sensitive secrets of his body... And Nick grinned a little, even in his exhausted state, because he knew what that low whimper meant. His fingers lingered briefly, teasing and torturous as Nick indulged his wicked streak (getting more than a little kick out of seeing his lover want him like that, even after all these years) and then pulled his fingers away, stopping their distracting moments. Nick could be an utter dick sometimes, but unnecessarily winding his boyfriend up when his own self-inforced celibacy wasn't going to end until after his last exam was more cruelty than mischief.

Even if it was fun.

With a groan of effort, Nick hauled himself up into a vaguely upright position once more. With food on its way, he was wondering distantly, hazily, if he had time for a shower before it arrived because he felt sticky from lack of sleep and too much time spent associating with dusty books. For now, though, Alex got the entirety of his (admittedly exhausted) attention.

"Baby," he said, and that was a bad habit of Nick's, his completely unimaginative affectionate petnames for his blond lover, "the moment my exams are all done, I'm all yours. Whatever you want to do." He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Alex's and, okay, his lips were dry and the kiss was a chaste one and he was just too tired to make anything more out of it than the tender, brief brush of lips that it was. He pulled away and smiled wanly at Alex, his obvious tenderness managing to lift at least some of of the pall of weariness that hung over him. "Promise."