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Alex hates when Matt goes on tour.
He hates not having to wake up in the morning to a space heater right next to him that happens to be 6 foot eight and all limbs. He hates not waking up in the arms of his best friend. He hates having to get up in the morning and do everything like usual in their kitchen, coffee, breakfast, the works, but, most of all, he hates that he has to stare at Felix for another day as he sits on the stairs watching the front door and waiting for his Daddy to come home.
Honestly, Alex never thought he’d become a father with Matt of all people. Sure, Alex always wanted to be a Dad, but not with Matt. Not at first anyway.
Then, of course, because he did - Matt got a girl pregnant. That kind of blindsided them both. Matt, as despite his finicky nature, regarded safe sex as an act of human rights in motion. Alex on the other hand, was more surprised as it just happened to be just after him and Matt finally got their shit together and ended up in a relationship.
”So-“ Alex murmured as he sat next to Matt on Matt‘s bed in his LA mansion as they stared at the phone screen that seemed to be trembling in Matt’s fingers, a blurry picture of an ultrasound still full screened on it, Matt’s eyes wet as Alex presses his cheek into his shoulder, attempting to provide some level of comfort. “What are you gonna do?”
“Dunno.” Matt runs a head through his head and Alex squeezes his arm as he looks stricken. “She don’t want a baby, says she’s got too much important spiritual shit for a baby or something. Lame ass excuses. I know I wrapped it, so I don’t know what the fuck-“ He trails off, shaking his head. “God, I’m sorry Lex.”
“What are you sorry for?” Alex looks up at him just as Matt turns his head to look down, eyes red rimmed.
“We managed after 10 years to figure out what the fuck we were and I screwed it all up.” Matt’s mouth curves into a wry smile. “Can’t blame you if you wanna not stay in this.”
Alex stared at Matt - really stared - for a long moment, his fingers still curled around the taller man’s bicep like a lifeline. The silence stretched between them, thick with everything unsaid, layered with ten years of friendship, rivalry, laughter, arguments, stolen glances, and the kind of intimacy that only comes when two people know each other’s souls better than they know themselves.
Then he leaned forward and kissed him.
Not soft. Not sweet. It was firm, desperate, a punctuation mark in a sentence neither of them had dared to finish.
When he pulled back, Alex looked up into Matt’s dazed, bloodshot blue eyes and said, “You didn’t screw anything up. We are this, Matt. Now more than ever.”
Matt blinked. “Lex-”
“No, shut up.” Alex’s voice cracked. “You think I wanted this timing? Nah, but I want you. And if this baby’s ours, then they’re ours. I’m not going anywhere. So if you’re trying to get rid of me by making me feel guilty, it’s not working.”
Matt’s lips trembled. Then he laughed - a wet, broken thing, but it was real. He wrapped an arm around Alex, pulling him flush against his chest, too tall, too warm, too there. “I don’t wanna get rid of you. I’m terrified of losing you. That’s the whole damn problem.”
They sat like that for a while, tangled together on the king-sized bed in the too-big mansion, the ultrasound glowing like a ghost on the phone between them.
Fast forward a year and eighteen months, and the house wasn’t so empty anymore.
Felix - named after Felix the Cat because Matt insisted “he’s got that classic cartoon charm, look at that smile!” - was a rambunctious two-year-old with Matt’s blonde curls, stupidly long limbs, and a voice that could be so sweet and melt you like ice on a sunny day while shattering glass at 3 a.m in the case of when he was a baby.
He also had a habit of sitting on the bottom step of the staircase every morning, his little legs dangling, eyes fixed on the front door like it might magically open and reveal Daddy.
Not Daddy Alex. Daddy Matt. Because Daddy Matt was on tour. Again.
Those were the moments he hated the most.
Alex always wanted to scream into a pillow every time he saw the calendar flip another red-X’d day and every time, he would stand in the kitchen, pouring coffee with one hand, flipping pancakes with the other, humming off-key to keep the silence at bay.
“Papa?” Felix would call, his voice small.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Daddy comin’ home?” It was the third day he’d asked in a row.
Alex would pause. Swallow. Smile. “Soon, Flix. Real soon.”
He’d say it like a prayer.
Matt’s tour had started with fanfare - aren’t they always? - sold-out shows from Toronto to Tokyo, packed arenas, flashing lights, women screaming lyrics that used to be inside jokes between them turned into anthems and Matt, towering above everyone in his ridiculous platform boots and vintage jerseys, grinning like he owned the world. Every night, however, after the encore, after the meet-and-greets, after the “You killed it, bro!” backslaps, he’d vanish into the quiet of his tour bus with his phone and FaceTime the people he missed.
One night, Alex picked up. He was in bed, glasses on, reading a kids’ book aloud to a half-asleep Felix nestled under the covers.
“Hey, giant.” Alex murmured, glancing at the screen. Matt’s face filled the video, exhausted and lit only by the dim floor lamp behind him. “Hey, you.”
Felix’s head snapped up. “DADDY!”
Just like that, in an instant that Alex had only seen between them, all the weight in Matt’s eyes lifted. “Hey, my little meatball! You bein’ good for Papa?”
“Uh-huh!” Felix scrambled closer to the phone. “I sade in the twuck! I can say it now!”
“Oh my God, you can?” Matt’s grin was instant, electric. “Say it again!”
“The t-t-truck!” Felix beamed.
“HOLY SHIT!” Matt bellowed, making Alex flinch and Felix giggle. Lucky he wasn’t old enough to understand Matt’s form of the English language or Alex would be hearing that for the next week. “That’s my boy! You’re smarter than Papa!”
“Hey!” Alex protested, but he was smiling. He couldn’t help it.
They stayed on the call until Felix passed out, mouth open, clutching the phone like it was a teddy bear. Alex gently pried it from his hands, settling him under the blankets before turning back to Matt, voice soft. “You look wrecked.”
“Feel like it.” Matt admitted, rubbing his face. “Miss you.”
“We miss you more.”
“I know.” Matt’s voice dropped. “I hate this part, Lex. I love the music, I love the shows… but I hate leaving you. Leaving him.”
Alex leaned back against the headboard. “I know. I hate it too, but… you need to do this. For your art. For your career and a lot more. We’re not gonna stand in the way of that. You were never a person to be tied down - I knew what I was coming into.”
“No, you don’t, because you’re everything.” Matt said, sudden and raw. “You and Felix - you’re my whole damn world. I just… I don’t want to be the guy who finally has all he ever wanted and still fucks it up.”
Alex’s throat tightened. “You already didn’t. You’re here. That’s what matters.”
Matt exhaled, long and slow. “Last show’s in Seattle. I’ll be home in four days.”
“Four days.” Alex repeated. A countdown. A promise. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Tell Flix I’ll bring him that glow-in-the-dark dinosaur I promised last phone call.”
“...and? What else?”
“-and I’ll carry both of you to bed and we won’t get up until noon. Scout’s honour.”
Alex laughed. “You were never a scout, Matty.”
“I’m your scout now, can get a uniform and everything. Make it a new roleplay..”
That was the kind of line Alex would roll his eyes at if anyone else said it and even he knew it. However, when those kind of lines were from Matt? From the man who once cried during a Bluey episode about lost socks? It made his chest ache in the best way.
The day Matt really came home, Alex almost didn’t recognise the quiet. No tour schedule on the fridge. No agent calling. No flight confirmations.
Just the sound of the front door swinging open and then - thunder.
Felix came flying from the living room where Alex had placated him with a juice box anda movie, tearing down the stairs like a tiny tornado, shrieking, “DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!”
Matt dropped his suitcase and caught him mid-air, spinning him around with a laugh that filled the whole house.
Alex stood in the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, watching.
Matt caught his eye over Felix’s shoulder and in that look - tired, grateful, overflowing with love - Alex saw everything. The years of friendship. The shock of a pregnancy. The fear. The joy. The fight to build something real out of chaos and most of all - home.
Matt was finally home.
Speaking of which, the taller of the two (or really, three) bounded over, still holding Felix, and wrapped one massive arm around Alex’s shoulders, pulling him into a three-way hug.
“Missed you.” He mumbled into Alex’s hair.
“I hate when you’re gone.” Alex whispered back.
“I know.” Matt kissed the top of his head. “I’m here now, here to stay and here for whatever you need.”
With the smell of pancakes lingering in the air and Felix giggling between them, here was everything. Here was what Alex needed, so he simply answered with exactly what he wanted.
“You. I need you.”
“Then you got me, Lex. You got me.”