Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

M/M

Arctic Monkeys
Last Shadow Puppets

Miles Kane/Alex Turner

Alex Turner
Miles Kane
English

Facade
dontcareajot

Chapter 4 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/2617151/chapters/6101888)

Miles wakes with Alex in his arms.

It's disorienting. It takes Miles a moment to come back to himself, to remember the previous night.
And then he's just sort of... Well, he doesn't know how he feels about it, honestly. Because on the one
hand, that's Alex Turner lying next to him, their legs tangled under the sheets and his head resting on
Miles' chest, and Miles gets the feeling he should at least be a bit put off. On the other hand... That's Alex
Turner lying next to him, warm and looking oh-so-angelic in his sleep and he'd been so vulnerable last
night.
It's been so long since Miles woke up with someone else in his bed. Not to say he hasn't had a bit of
fun here and there, the occasional random hookup, but very rarely in his own flat, and even then they
don't stay. He's not sure he'd want them to. But it is nice to wake up next to someone. It'd been nice
yesterday, to wake up and hear Alex puttering about the kitchen. Having someone else in the flat is just
comforting to Miles in a way that's hard to describe, having someone next to him even more so.
The question that Miles finds himself asking is, am I allowed to enjoy this?
He doesn't know. Alex probably wouldn't appreciate their current positions. Miles can picture him
waking up, and the look of disgust that would cross his face- a look he's given Miles far too many times.
Then again, perhaps that's a bit dramatic. Miles would rather not find out. He very gently disentangles
himself from Alex, something that's difficult to do without waking him.
He pads lightly into the kitchen and sets about making tea, his mind already going over various
things he might say to Alex once he wakes, trying to find a way to broach the topic of last night- or at
least gracefully gloss over it- without making things hopelessly awkward. Unfortunately he hasn't come
up with anything by the time Alex walks in a few moments later, yawning behind his hand, his hair a
mess. It's unfair, really, that he's able to look so good in such a state. It's unfair that Miles is burdened with
noticing.
“Did I wake you?” Miles asks, tearing his eyes away from the pale sliver of hip revealed when Alex
stretches his hands over his head.
 Alex barely stifles another yawn. He shrugs. “Dunno. Time to get up anyway, innit?”
“I suppose. Interviews today and that.”
Alex doesn't even bother hiding his displeased groan. “Fuck. I'll never understand how you
celebrities put up with this shit on the daily.”
“I made tea, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Loads,” Alex says in a tone of voice that could be sarcasm. Miles isn't sure. But Alex does round
the counter to take the tea cup, and when he touches Miles lightly on the arm (reminiscent of the way he
had when he'd complimented Miles on his performance) and says, “Thank you,” he sounds genuine. His
eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones when he closes his eyes to take a sip. It's not something Miles
ever noticed before. He feels like he shouldn't be noticing now.
They wind up at the kitchen table, Alex with the paper and Miles on his phone, and it occurs to Miles
then that this is becoming something of a routine. A routine he rather enjoys.
They never do talk about last night.
-
The interviews they have lined up are, thankfully, mostly for magazines and papers and such and are
very little like their telly debut. Still, they go about as well as that one had. In one, for example, Alex
rambles on for a full minute about a cat he saw up a tree once, then that somehow segues into a story
about cookies. Miles watches the interviewer's face go from politely interested to confused to sort of
peeved as her question (something to do with their first date) continues to go unanswered. He finally
takes it upon himself to interrupt Alex by throwing an arm over his shoulders and steering the
conversation back on track. He'd have been happy to let Alex babble for the entirety of the allotted twenty
minutes but he knows Jones wouldn't stand for it.
In another, the bloke hosting the interview takes a rather unprofessional interest in Alex. At least,
that's how Miles interprets the sugary compliments, the eyelash batting, the arm touching, the innuendo.
He ignores Miles almost completely in favor of blatantly flirting with Alex, who remains oblivious, or
least does a good job of pretending to be oblivious. Miles has never been one to let himself be ignored
and, what's more, he won't stand for another bloke hitting on his boyfriend, fake or not. He places his
hand high on Alex's thigh- a show of possession. Alex stops talking mid-sentence, evidently caught off-
guard, but he picks up again a moment later. The interviewer doesn't really back off but it makes Miles
feel better, anyhow.
It's already getting dark by the time they finally get back to the flat. Alex's phone rings just as they're
crossing the threshold. He answers with a smile. “Matthew,” he says. “How's things?”
Miles half-listens to Alex's side of the conversation as he sets about rooting through his own cabinets
for a snack. Alex's voice goes all stuttery as he replies to whatever Matt had said with, “Well, er... It's not
exactly... like that. No, we'd have told you, it's just-” Alex looks sort of panicked when Miles glances
back at him.
Miles walks over and snatches the phone from Alex's hand. He takes the liberty of putting it on
speaker, intent on setting Matt straight about the nature of their relationship, but Matt is already mid-
sentence, saying, “-Never mind that, I knew it. I bloody knew it. What did I tell you, Al?”
Miles keeps quiet, curiosity piqued. Alex has gone a funny shade of pink. He tries to snatch the
phone back but fails miserably when Miles holds it just out of reach.
Matt goes on, “You always said you hated him but I knew what I was doing when I set you up that
night, eh? Knew you'd get on like a house on fire. I mean, sure, it took a while, but-”
“But nothing!” Alex snaps, raising his voice to be heard. He's resorted to glaring at Miles now.
“Listen, mate, we'll talk later, yeah?”
“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Matt laughs. Miles can practically hear the ridiculous eyebrow
waggle he's probably doing. “Sorry, sorry. Later, then.”
Matt clicks off. Miles sets the phone down on the counter. Alex immediately snatches it up. For a
moment they just look at each other, Alex with narrowed eyes.
“So I take it the news finally reached him?” Miles asks.
 Alex nods. “He weren't happy we kept it from him. Our, er... relationship.”
“You could've told him the truth, you know.”
“We're not supposed to tell anyone.”
Miles shrugs. Another pause, and then, “So, that first night. Two years ago. That was a setup?”
Alex hesitates. “Matt just thought, you know, we were both single... It was stupid of him. Right?”
Miles hums. “You knew, then? Matt never said anything to me. So, you went into that pub
thinking...” Strange, to imagine that Alex might've had some very different expectations at the start of that
evening. But Miles remembers that night all too well and Alex had done absolutely nothing to indicate he
might even be a little interested. He'd just been quiet, taciturn. Then, later, an outright prick.
“I weren't thinking anything,” Alex snaps, immediately getting defensive. “And it's a good thing my
hopes weren't too high, eh? You were an arse to me from the start.”
“Hang on- you were the one with his nose in the air the whole evening, too good to make bloody
conversation with the rest of us. You ignored me for half the night and spent the rest insulting me. I only
gave as good as I got.”
Alex scoffs. “Sounds like we remember that night a bit differently, mate.”
Miles opens his mouth, ready with a comeback, but another thought distracts him. He realizes,
“Wait- that's why you weren't shocked at the meeting. About me, you know, liking blokes. I didn't even
think anything of it at the time but... Matt told you.”
“He did.”
Miles has to lean against the counter as the full implication of that sinks in. “So you kept my secret
for two years...”
“'Course,” Alex says, like the idea of outing Miles, of selling that story to the press, never even
occurred to him.
“Why?”
Alex tilts his head. “You really think so little of me? I'd never do that, not even to you.”
The way he's got his brows furrowed makes him look like a disgruntled puppy. Miles has to stifle a
fond smile. He's sort of disgusted with himself. Since when is he fond of Alex Turner? It's unnatural.
“Well... thanks. I dunno whether or not to be angry with Matt now.”
“Matt wouldn't have told me if I weren't trustworthy.”
“Actually I was talking about how he didn't tell me it were a setup. At least give a bloke a heads up,
eh? Maybe it would've gone a bit different if we'd both been in the know.”
“Oh? How do you figure?”
“I'd have tried harder to get into your pants, for one.”
Alex makes an indignant sound. “Pardon?”
Miles considers him for a moment, from his artfully tousled quiff, to his full bottom lip, to his
strategically unbuttoned top, to his blessedly tight trousers. He makes it blatant, a once-over that has Alex
fidgeting. “Nah, never mind,” he says, mostly just to wind Alex up. “You're fit but not that fit.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “More fit than you,” he grumbles. He pushes past Miles, headed down the hall to
his room. As an afterthought he adds over his shoulder, “You'd be lucky to have me.”
Miles tears his eyes away from Alex's arse and doesn't contradict him.
-
Miles' bed feels too big for one person.
It is too big for one person but it's not something that ever bothered him before. Now, though, it feels
all wrong. He's been tossing and turning for an hour, unable to get to sleep, alternating between
wondering what Alex is doing down the hall and berating himself for wondering what Alex is doing down
the hall. He tells himself it's not Alex that he misses, just a warm body beside him. It could be anyone.
But a part of him knows that's not true.
Maybe it's a good thing he's unable to sleep. It means he's awake to hear the shout from Alex's room.
He's on his feet in an instant, the image of Alex from last night- scared, trembling- still fresh in his
memory. Unfortunately he's greeted with a very similar scene when he reaches Alex's room.
:
 Alex is sitting up in bed, his knees drawn to his chest and his hands over his eyes. He doesn't seem to
notice Miles is there until Miles sits lightly on the edge of the bed, drawing his attention. Alex blinks at
him once and hides his face again. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, breathless. “I didn't mean to wake you, I'm
sorry-”
Miles cuts him off. “It's fine,” he assures him, keeping his own voice low and steady. Soothing. He
removes Alex's hands from his face, holds them in his own instead. Alex's hands are cold, clammy. He
grips Miles' fingers like his life depends on it. “Alex, it's fine. What's the matter?”
“Fucking nightmares. Sorry, I really am, I can't help it-”
Miles shushes him. “Stop bloody apologizing. I'm not angry, alright? Promise.”
Alex's eyes are shining like he's on the verge of tears but Miles can see him steeling himself, not
daring to let one fall. He takes a deep breath. “I've not written anything readable in ages and this fucking
deadline is killing me, I'm just...” He trails off, takes another shaky breath. “Stressed,” he finishes. “They
always get bad when I'm stressed.”
Miles doesn't know what to say. He's never been good at comforting people, at being there for them,
and he's certainly never had to comfort Alex. He's sort of amazed that Alex is showing this side of
himself. Miles almost feels like this is a test. He doesn't want to fuck it up.
Miles stands and draws Alex up with him by his hand. “You said being with someone helps, yeah?
Stay with me tonight.” He doesn't ask. He figures it's better that way. Alex can say no if he wants but
Miles knows, or at least thinks he does, that Alex would be too prideful to say yes. To admit that he'd like
to be comforted. This way he doesn't have to.
Miles pulls him down the hall and into his own room. Alex goes without complaint. He already
seems calmer as he settles onto what Miles has already started thinking of as his side of the bed- pathetic,
that, but he can't bring himself to care. Miles immediately pulls him closer, arms wrapped around him,
Miles' chest to Alex's back. Alex relaxes in his arms, goes pliant as the tension leaves him. “Thanks,” he
breathes. It's far from the disgusted reaction Miles imagined Alex would have to being held by him.
It's surprisingly easy to fall asleep once Alex is next to him.
-
For the first time in his life, Miles wakes from a less-than-PG dream about Alex. It's an abrupt
awakening. One moment Alex is straddling him, whispering naughty things in his ear, lovely arse
grinding down on him, the next Miles is blinking at the real Alex, sleeping peacefully beside him.
He's quick to slip quietly out of bed. He gets himself off in the shower and doesn't even try to
pretend he's thinking of anyone but Alex. As he spills over his own hand he bites his lip and muses that
they've certainly come a long way. From hating each other to cuddling to sex dreams. If you'd told Miles a
month ago he'd be fantasizing about pinning Alex's wrists above his head and fucking him until he cried
Miles' name, Miles would never have believed you. But here he is, doing just that, and it doesn't even
seem all that strange. At any rate, he refuses to feel guilty about it. What Alex doesn't know won't hurt
him.
Alex is still asleep when Miles finishes his shower. He's got one arm stretched over to Miles' side of
the bed, like maybe he misses his warmth.
They have an outing scheduled but not until later. Miles decides, since Alex had such a rough night,
to make them both tea again. He feels proper domestic doing it. That feeling isn't helped at all when Alex
stumbles into the kitchen in t-shirt and boxers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and smiling blearily. Miles
can't help but smile back, that damned fondness creeping up on him again.
“Careful,” Alex warns. “I might get used to this.”
“I don't mind,” Miles says honestly.
Alex sort of laughs to himself, shakes his head. He rounds the counter to take his tea. As he does, he
goes up on his toes to give Miles a chaste peck on the lips. As casual as anything, like it's something
they've done a thousand times before. “Thank you,” he says, in a tone of voice that makes Miles think he's
being thanked for more than just tea.
Alex turns away, unbothered. Miles can only blink at him. He touches his lips, stunned. Alex just
:
kissed him.
Miles won't be the one to turn it into something it's not. If Alex is going to be nonchalant about it
then Miles will too. He tries to put it out of his mind.
He still catches himself thinking about it from time to time throughout the day, though. Like when
they're on their so-called date- a literal walk through the park. They've got some of the least subtle
paparazzi following them so they're hand-in-hand for the sake of the cameras. It's an unusually chilly day
for the time of year. Alex's cheeks have gone pink- a shade that matches that of his bitten lips. Miles can't
stop glancing over at him, wondering if he could get away with a kiss of his own.
“Do I have something on me face?” Alex asks when he catches Miles looking, brow raised.
Miles shakes his head. He pulls Alex to a stop by his hand. Alex looks so good today- more well
rested than usual, eyes bright and happy. Devoid of any of their usual guardedness. He looks up at Miles
curiously, patiently waiting to see what he'll do. Maybe Miles imagines it but he think he sees a bit of a
challenge there.
Miles doesn't let himself think about it too hard. He tilts Alex's chin up with two of his fingers and
closes the distance between them. He keeps it chaste but he lingers, both to give the paps time to get a
decent shot and to savor the moment. He's kissing Alex bloody Turner. What's even better is that Alex
doesn't pull away. He grips Miles' lapels to keep him close. It's a moment that should make for a perfect
picture but Miles finds he's less concerned with that than he should be. He doesn't really want to pull
away. Alex smells wonderful, like soap and springtime. Alex sighs into the kiss, a satisfied sort of sigh,
like he's just been waiting on Miles to kiss him and now that it's happened he can relax. That's probably
just Miles' fanciful imagination talking, though.
When they separate Miles winks at him. Alex laughs but he's looking at Miles like he's trying to
figure out the answer to an incredibly difficult riddle.
“Jones is going to love that,” Miles says, effectively and purposefully breaking the moment.
Alex glances uneasily back at the paparazzi, as if just being reminded that they're there. “Right,” he
says. “Our first proper kiss, for all the world to see.”
Try as he might, Miles can't decipher his tone.
Close (#)
: