Slurpalicious cover by emeraldteal
It's Not Enough
Authors: Satina and Shannon
Date of First Posting: May 30, 2002
Feedback: Welcomed HERE
Pairing: M/K
Rating: NC-17
Category: Story, Angst
Warnings: BDSM, vampirism, and it's not exactly finished.
Disclaimer: Mulder and Krycek are characters who belong to Fox Television and Chris Carter.
Spoilers: This takes place following Apocrypha and will refer back to every Krycek episode previous to that one.
Summary: Mulder chats up an anonymous informant one night and gets more than he planned for.
Notes: Mulder is written by Satina, and Krycek is written by Shannon.
This is the second collaborative IM-fic we wrote. The first is unavailable. All of our IM fics were written with two computers, one for each of us, and we got into our respective roles and then IM'd. Writing this story spawned an absolute addiction to this fantastically-fun artform and resulted in all of our other IM fics.
medrul: Hey
hidingnthelight: So did it pan out? What I told you?
medrul: Looks legit. Thanks.
hidingnthelight: No problem, M.
medrul: So, what are you doing on this late?
hidingnthelight: Just some research. You?
medrul: Yeah, same, I guess you could say.
hidingnthelight: I couldn't sleep. I'm looking up causes for insomnia. Sorry it's not something that would be of more interest to you.
medrul: LOL! I'm actually laughing out loud at that one, H. Please let me know if you find anything useful at all!
hidingnthelight: I'm really only finding ads for Unisom and Exedrin PM. I did find one thing...kind of weird really...about the government and unsubstantiated reports of secret sleep studies it's done. It's probably nothing, though, huh?
medrul: You might be surprised.
medrul: So...is this a new thing, or do you always have trouble sleeping?
hidingnthelight: I guess you could say I don't always have trouble. I don't sleep a lot, but it usually doesn't bother me. I'm pretty used to it.
medrul: So it's bothering you tonight, then?
hidingnthelight: Someone stole my Cowboy Junkies CD out of my car. If I want to relax that's usually what I listen to. So I'm pretty screwed. The Weather Channel has me bored shitless, but that's about it.
medrul: LOL...tough life you live, H.
hidingnthelight: You have no idea.
medrul: Seriously, though, I actually did a little work on that sleeplessness thing...but I'm sorry I didn't learn anything to help with actual insomnia. Just some weird-ass shit you'd probably be better off not knowing about.
hidingnthelight: What agency did you say you worked for? CIA?
hidingnthelight: Don't you already *know* all about what the government's hiding? Aren't you one of the ones that hides it? Should I even be talking to you? Can't you arrest my ass?
medrul: I work for the FBI, not the CIA. Close, but I hear they have a hell of a lot better health plan. And hey...by now you should know you can trust me.
hidingnthelight: Do you trust me?
medrul: Well, of course...I mean, we both kind of have to trust each other here, don't we? We're working toward the same goal. Your tips have panned out so far. Until I see otherwise...yeah, I guess I do, to a certain extent.
hidingnthelight: Hmmm. I guess I'll just have to keep proving my worth, huh M?
medrul: I'm sorry if that sounds harsh. I don't mean it that way.
hidingnthelight: Harsh is getting dumped on Valentine's Day. You're being safe. That's good. You *should* be careful who you listen to around here.
hidingnthelight: Just don't dump me on V-day and we'll be fine.
medrul: LOL...deal. Well, as long as you don't fuck around on me, anyway. I can be a very jealous man.
hidingnthelight: Hey, it's Friday night, one a.m. where I am, and I'm talking on-line with you. I got news for you, if you're my hot date I don't think you're going to need to worry about competition.
medrul: LOL...ah, I could say the same, H.
medrul: Pathetic, aren't we? No women in sight.
hidingnthelight: Women. Yeah.
hidingnthelight: Can't live with 'em....
medrul: Can't let 'em shoot you.
medrul: Well, not more than once, anyway. Hurts like a sonofabitch.
hidingnthelight: I can't say I've had the experience. You haven't...have you??
medrul: I'm embarassed to say that yes, I have.
medrul: Let's just say it's a damned good thing she had good aim.
hidingnthelight: *Good* aim? She shot you on purpose? M, maybe you need to rethink your choice of mates if that's how yours resolves an argument.
medrul: God, H, you've got me laughing more than I have in...well, a really, really long time. She wasn't trying to kill me...or hurt me, even. And it wasn't a mate thing. It was a partner thing.
hidingnthelight: It must be hard having an attractive woman for a partner. Or is she not? Attractive that is.
medrul: Oh yeah, she's very pretty. Umm...no, it's not hard. The alternative is harder. I've had more trouble with male partners, you might say. Pretty or not.
hidingnthelight: I see.
medrul: Oh hey...I didn't mean it that way...
hidingnthelight: M, you should know, before we keep talking all night and you feel like you know who I am when you don't.... I'm gay.
medrul: Oh. Okay...well, uh...maybe I shouldn't be so offhand then. I mean...
medrul: Hey, it doesn't bother me or anything...if that's what you're afraid of. In case you haven't read my manifesto, I'm a pretty open-minded guy. ;-)
hidingnthelight: Are you? Do you mind if I ask you something personal, M?
medrul: I guess not...
hidingnthelight: Was your male partner good-looking? I mean, did you find him...attractive?
medrul: Oh...you mean the one I "had trouble with?"
hidingnthelight: Yeah, that one.
medrul: Yeah, he was good-looking. Too good.
hidingnthelight: But you're straight, right? You've never truly been interested, right?
hidingnthelight: Don't answer. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.
medrul: I'm straight, yeah. And I haven't ever had a relationship with another man, no. I mean, I can understand how one man could be attracted to another...I'm not so straight that I just can't imagine that...I guess I'm curious, though, why you'd even care?
hidingnthelight: Blame it on my just having read an entire website dedicated to Diphenhydramine Citrate. I was just curious is all. Curious and on my third drink and feeling a kind of malaise settling in, I guess. Don't mind me. You should try to get some sleep, M.
medrul: In a perfect world, yes. I don't sleep much, H. But if you're zoning out, I can let you go. And what the hell is Diphenhydramine Citrate? And hey...what are you drinking?
hidingnthelight: I'm not zoning. I don't zone...
hidingnthelight: Diphenhydramine Citrate is the sleep aide they put in Exedrin PM. It's very exciting when you're on your third Stoli with soda and lime.
medrul: Vodka, eh? I'm a scotch man, myself. Maybe I'll join you...
medrul: brb
hidingnthelight: Okay, M. It's a date. ;-)
hidingnthelight: I'll buy. LOL!
medrul: back. You're on. :-)
medrul: I'd better drink fast though, if I'm gonna catch up with you...
hidingnthelight: I can slow down. I have all night.
medrul: No big plans for your Saturday?
medrul: And drink is in hand...second drink, that is...I'm almost there.
hidingnthelight: Does this count as social drinking?
medrul: Hell yeah, why not?
medrul: We can't *really* meet for a drink, so we have to take what we can get, right?
hidingnthelight: Take what we can get. Exactly.
hidingnthelight: Cheers, M.
medrul: Bottoms up, H.
hidingnthelight: Not in way too long, M.
hidingnthelight: But that's more than you ever wanted to know, right?
medrul: Hey, it's been awhile for me, too, H. No shame there.
medrul: So...guess you don't have a boyfriend, then, huh?
hidingnthelight: Not at the moment. I have someone... Well, I'm interested in someone I guess you could say. But it's never gonna happen.
medrul: Hey, never say never...
hidingnthelight: I think it's pretty safe to in this case.
medrul: Why? Is he dead? ::g::
hidingnthelight: God, no! Bite your tongue. But he probably wishes I were. In fact, I know he does.
medrul: Oh. Damn. What'd you do to him, H?
medrul: Break his heart?
hidingnthelight: No. It was never mine to break. But I did hurt him. A lot. And I wish I hadn't had to. I wish I hadn't.
medrul: Well...can you talk to him about it? I mean...do you think he's at all interested back?
medrul: Well, besides the now-wanting-to-kill-you part.
hidingnthelight: I can't get close enough to talk to him. He'd never believe a word out of my mouth anyway.
medrul: Oh hell...is he straight? I'm sorry I didn't ask.
hidingnthelight: Well, he is, yeah. But that's the least of our problems.
hidingnthelight: Do you mind if I ask you something else, M?
medrul: Go for it. I've had three scotches. I'm good. ;-)
hidingnthelight: This male partner of yours. How bad did he fuck up? Do you think you could ever forgive him?
medrul: Oh...uh...well...
medrul: I guess you could say I never really get the chance.
medrul: It's not the same, anyway. I mean, it wasn't a love affair or anything. Just a partnership.
hidingnthelight: Yeah. Not love. I get you. It makes all the difference. But...
hidingnthelight: Well, I guess I'm curious what a straight man finds attractive in another man. You did say he was attractive, right? What was he like? I mean, assuming he'd been a cool person...would you have considered it?
medrul: Hmmm...you're asking me if I could be attracted to another guy? Yeah, I can see that...certain men are just...different. I've felt that energy...that attraction that's impossible to explain and shouldn't be there, but there it is.
medrul: Now, as for this particular man...damn, we're really getting personal here, aren't we? I mean, you know who I am and I have no idea who you are...it could really fuck me up if this kind of thing got out, you know...
hidingnthelight: I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me. I'd feel bad knowing, even though I'm curious.
medrul: You'd feel bad knowing?
hidingnthelight: Yeah. I can't explain it.
medrul: Is it...because if I *was* attracted to him, that you might...be attracted to...me? God, I really shouldn't drink anymore.
hidingnthelight: Maybe I should say no and play it safe. ;-) M, I think you're attractive whether or not you're into guys. But I'll do my best to keep things all business if you'd prefer. This can be as much or as little as you'd like. (How's that for putting a gigantic ball in your court, huh? ;-) )
medrul: Well, all work and no play makes M a very dull boy. And...hell, it's not like anything is going to happen in the real world...a little flirting is fun, I guess. I'm still afraid to answer your question, though.
hidingnthelight: It's okay. I understand. Listen, why don't you just think of it this way: you can practice on me in case you ever do give up the pussy and settle on a Mr. Right. ;-)
medrul: LOL...I have no pussy to give up.
medrul: Hey, who knows? Stranger things have happened...to me, in triplicate.
hidingnthelight: So... I'll rephrase my earlier question. What qualities would I have to have to draw your straight-guy eye?
hidingnthelight: Tough question for a het.
medrul: Yeah, it is. I mean, I never really thought about it. Well, you'd probably have to be pretty. Not just handsome...but beautiful. And strong...I admire strength. Brains. Stupid isn't attractive no matter what the outer package. And I guess you'd have to ooze sex appeal. Be really comfortable with your sexuality. Heh. Pretty tall order, hiding. Hey, I'm being honest here.
medrul: Oh, and being hopelessly in love with me would help. ;-)
hidingnthelight: Good to know, M.
medrul: Well hey...what about you? What rocks your world in a man, H?
hidingnthelight: Passion. Fierce, driving passion. For life, for a cause, for sex. Just a man who knows what he wants and doesn't let anything stand in his way of getting it...
hidingnthelight: The voice. I love a beautiful voice. And I don't mean he has to be able to sing the national anthem. I just like a strong, deep, confident voice. And eyes. Eyes so deep you could fall into them. Hazel eyes.
medrul: Hazel eyes?
hidingnthelight: Your eyes are blue, aren't they? ;-)
medrul: Heh heh...sometimes. ;-)
hidingnthelight: Oh. Really?
medrul: What is it with you and the hazel eyes? :-)
hidingnthelight: Well, the man I...like. He has hazel eyes. They change when his moods change. And he is moody. ;-) I can only imagine what color they'd be when he's making love. Okay, I think it's time for drink number four here.
medrul: Must be so hard to love him so much and be so sure you can never have him.
hidingnthelight: Yes it is.
hidingnthelight: He's amazing. You don't know. And I can't ever tell him.
medrul: You know, it might be the scotch talking, but I'd think he'd wanna know that you think that, no matter how pissed off he is at you. I mean...it might take away some of the hurt you'd caused. Just thinking out loud...
hidingnthelight: Maybe. Who knows. Enough about my man problems, though. Why don't you tell me what your partner looked like. If you're okay with that.
medrul: Why, you gonna go track him down and shag him? ;-) Okay, why the hell not.
medrul: He was young. Younger than I was. About the same height...heavier build. Stockier. Probably more buff. BAD hair. BAD. Not the color or anything, but the style...good God, he needed help. Especially since you could tell he had really soft, thick, silky hair, and if he'd just get a good stylist...
medrul: Shit, maybe I am gay! LOL! (jk)
hidingnthelight: Maybe he didn't like his hair either. Maybe he was just trying to fit in at your button-down job.
medrul: Undoubtedly, H. He was definitely not being himself.
hidingnthelight: Doesn't matter. Anyway, go on.
medrul: Okay...well, he had this...sweet face. Just...one of those faces you just aren't sure whether to punch it or kiss it, you know? I suppose being gay, you'd kiss it. That's probably where the urge to punch it comes from, I suppose...wanting what you can't have...
medrul: His eyes, H. You'd throw him down and fuck him stupid if you saw them. You'd forget all about Mr. Moody-Hazel-Eyes. These eyes...so deep, dark, longest fucking lashes I have *ever* seen. And the way he'd look at me...
medrul: Fuck. That's all I wanna say about that.
hidingnthelight: How? How would he look at you? What did you see when he looked at you? Please?
medrul: This hurts, hiding. Because you know...it was all bullshit. He'd look at me like...like he couldn't believe I was real. Like everything just...faded away when I was there. It was all fucking bullshit, though. Part of his act, just like the fucking dippidy-do hair.
hidingnthelight: Maybe it wasn't. Maybe he was afraid. Maybe because you're straight.... M, I'm sorry talking about this hurts. I'll stop. I'm really sorry.
hidingnthelight: M? You okay?
medrul: It's wasn't real, hiding. No one is that adoring. He's just really fucking good at what he does. That's all.
medrul: He's got a face that could make a straight man gay, and he knows it. Case closed.
hidingnthelight: You're saying he lied to you. Yes?
hidingnthelight: What if the adoration wasn't part of the lie? What if that was real?
medrul: Hey, nothing personal, H, but it hurts enough when I let *myself* think stupid thoughts like that. It was all a lie. He's a lie. I trusted him and he just fucked me up good and disappeared.
hidingnthelight: I'm sorry he did that to you. If I could take away what he did... I guess he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.
medrul: No, he doesn't. That's not even the half of it, H. This guy is just...hey. Why don't you tell me more about Hazel Eyes? What the hell did you do to him?
hidingnthelight: I lied.
medrul: Ironic.
hidingnthelight: I guess I'm lying still.
medrul: Did you ever tell him you'd lied? Apologize and tell the truth?
hidingnthelight: I told you. He won't hear it from me. It's useless.
medrul: Yeah, I guess I can see that. Well, not to rub salt in a wound, hiding, but how can he ever know that what you're telling him is the truth? Is there some way to prove it?
hidingnthelight: What the hell is medrul anyway?
medrul: LOL...a very uncreative way of rearranging mulder. I have a lot of screen names. It's hard to remember them all, so I try to keep them simple, according to...function.
hidingnthelight: Function? What else do you do on-line besides talk to me at 2 in the morning?
medrul: Heh. I told you I have no pussy to give up. What do you *think* I'm doing? What else do *you* do, hiding? Although I'm sure we frequent different websites...
hidingnthelight: How much detail do you want? About what I do.
medrul: Oh. Well. Hell. As much as you wanna give me, I guess.
hidingnthelight: Does it freak you out to know I'm half hard right now?
medrul: Uh...no, I guess not. Because of...me??
hidingnthelight: Why not because of you?
medrul: I guess I've never really turned a guy on before...well, that I knew of, anyway.
hidingnthelight: Then you're not paying attention.
medrul: Well, I guess that's not the whole truth, come to think of it...
medrul: I've had a few guys come on to me in my life.
medrul: I just never had any interest in them, so I didn't give it much thought.
hidingnthelight: If I came onto you right now, how much thought would you give it? Or would you walk away?
medrul: Well, it's just online...so I guess...I don't have too much of a problem with it...
medrul: I'm flattered, actually.
medrul: It's kind of exciting.
hidingnthelight: Flattered is such an ugly word, M. It's what you tell the girl in the glasses who you don't want to dance with, who later becomes a knock-out of course. Excited... Now that...that's nice. What gets you excited, M?
medrul: Well, uh...women, H...I wouldn't really know what to do with a guy...
medrul: And when I say flattered...I mean it makes me feel good.
hidingnthelight: You don't know what I look like. What are you picturing?
medrul: I guess I hadn't thought about it...past the uh...half-hard dick. I guess I was picturing that in tight, black jeans...hard thighs...that's about as far as I'd gotten.
hidingnthelight: Would you believe that you're right on so far?
medrul: People have said I have a touch of intuition. ;-)
hidingnthelight: People are right.
hidingnthelight: Well, consider me faceless for now. I'm not ugly; that's not it. ;-) Just picture what you want. What you'd like me to look like.
medrul: You want me to just...keep going?
hidingnthelight: Yeah. What would I look like, if you could just...paint me...sculpt me?
hidingnthelight: And don't say a 36C!
medrul: Oh. Hmmm...well, you'd be hard...heh...not just your dick. The rest of you, too. You wouldn't be skinny, like me.
medrul: I guess I'd like a body a little more built than mine...solid, strong arms...but not some football player.
medrul: I'd want pretty lips. Soft and pink. The kind that draw you in. Cupid's bow, I guess some people call it. Perfect for kissing.
medrul: I guess, if I had to be honest, and let the scotch win out, you'd have his eyes, H. I can't imagine any others being better. And...yeah, his hair, too, although not like it was back then. It would be longer...more natural...no gel. NO gel.
hidingnthelight: No gel, M. Promise.
medrul: ;-) Thanks.
medrul: Is a man's neck as sensitive as a woman's, when it's kissed, H?
hidingnthelight: Sorry, I had to lose my shirt. Was getting warm. Uh, yeah. My neck's sensitive.
medrul: I have this...fantasy. It's kind of violent, though. I mean, I won't actually hurt you...should I even tell you?
hidingnthelight: Yes. Tell me.
medrul: Well, you're him. Okay, it's out. You're him, and I'm yelling at you. Cussing you out for the shit you've put me through. You just keep denying it. I'm shaking you...jerking you around by your black leather jacket...
medrul: Then I throw you up against a wall, and lean in, screaming...I'm so fucking *pissed*, and then I see your lips...you're licking them...scared, I guess...and I just snap my head forward and stick my tongue as far down your throat as I can, cutting off all your fucking lies once and for all.
medrul: I'm kissing you hard...I can feel the muscles in my tongue working as I try to tongue-fuck all my rage into you...I notice our crotches are pressed tight against each other...and I'm hard. And I'm surprised to find that you are, too.
medrul: Suddenly, I want to shove my dick in you worse than I've ever wanted anything...and I growl into your mouth, holding your head in place with my one hand, which is gripping your hair painfully...
medrul: You don't fight me. You never do. Your hands are just pressed back against the wall. You're mine. To do whatever I want with.
medrul: Are you okay with this, H?
hidingnthelight: Yes, Mulder. But don't call me H. Call me Alex.
medrul: I...I don't understand...I never told you his name...
medrul: Oh Jesus. Jesus FUCK I get it. You fucking asshole! You just...you made me tell you all this...Goddamn it! Just another way to fuck with Mulder's fucking HEAD, eh ALEX????
hidingnthelight: No. No, I didn't mean it to be. I didn't. Just listen...
medrul: No fucking way. God, you're good. I'll give you that. You are so fucking good. You've got me laid out raw. You fucking prick.
hidingnthelight: It's not what you think. Fuck, it's NEVER what you think! I needed to know, Mulder. I needed to know how you felt. You think I'm just going to come up to your door and expect for you to let me in to say to you what I've been needing to say for so long? Huh? You and I...we don't work that way.
medrul: You expect me to believe that you're not over there, wherever the fuck you are, laughing your ass off at the con you just pulled?
medrul: God, that's cruel. I never pegged you as cruel, Alex.
hidingnthelight: No. I don't. I don't expect anything. I told you you wouldn't believe me. I fucking told you. But every word I said up there...reread the goddamned thing!...every word is true.
hidingnthelight: You'll never know how sorry I am. You'll never know, because you won't allow it.
medrul: I won't allow it because allowing it just gets me FUCKED over!
hidingnthelight: Do you really want what you described up there? Do you want to do that to me? Do you want to fuck out your revenge in me? Because I'll let you. Mulder, I'll let you. I just want to have something of you. If that's what you want, then let's do it.
medrul: Sure, and when I answer my door, you blow my head off. How stupid do you think I am, Krycek?
medrul: Fuck, not that you need my permission to show up in my life.
hidingnthelight: Your rules. You say where. You say when. You call the shots. You get what you need. What do you say?
medrul: No. Forget it. That's not what I need.
medrul: It wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough. It's never enough, even in my stupid, Goddamned fantasy. I just fuck you, then make you suck me, then fuck you again, and I can't stop. I can't fucking stop.
hidingnthelight: Then don't.
medrul: I end up crying, Krycek. Crying and cursing your name because it's just a fuck. It's just a Goddamned fuck and it's not enough.
hidingnthelight: Would you ever believe, in a million fucking years, that I *am* hopelessly in love with you?
hidingnthelight: Shit. This is too... Just nevermind. I can't believe I thought this would do anything but make things a hundred times worse. I'm sorry. You'll never believe it, but I am.
medrul: My place. My turf. You throw down the second I open the fucking door.
hidingnthelight: I won't be carrying. When?
medrul: Now.
I flip off the computer before I can even see his answer, but I'm pretty sure I know what it'll be. I have no idea if all the bullshit he gave me about love is true, but I'm pretty damned sure he wants to fuck. And I sure as hell know I do.
I pace the floor, waiting, my jaw aching as I clench and unclench it, my nails digging crescents into the palm of my left hand, gun sweaty in my right. I'm as hard as I've ever been and more excited. I'm fighting tears. I tell myself I don't know why.
I don't even know where he was IMing from! How the hell long will it take him to get here? God, he could just leave me here waiting all night. Having a good laugh, picturing me pacing the floor just like I'm Goddamned doing right now. He'd know I'm not gonna just sleep after all that. How the fuck could I let him do this to me? Good one, Krycek. Points for creativity.
There's a shuffling, quiet knock at my door. And I can't breathe. Hohhhh fuck. He's here. Put up or shut up, Mulder. Answer your fucking door.
My whole body's gone as rigid as my dick, and it takes monumentous effort to force myself to walk to the door. I stand with my hand poised on the knob, knowing he's standing on the other side of the door. It's so quiet that I think maybe if I listen really hard, I'll be able to hear him breathing. No, that's me.
This is *my* fucking show, I remind myself. No reason to be nervous. Just gonna take what's mine and be done with him. And maybe then I'll be able to get a good night's sleep.
I yank open the door.
I startled him. The only sign was a quick, short intake of breath but it was there. I narrow my eyes and stare into his. They're wide and scared and they blink rapidly. He looks worse than the last time I saw him...dark circles under his eyes, hollow cheeks. But he's clean this time. No hair gel, either. I hear leather creaking as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. Black jeans, just like he said. Did he put those on for me? Or was he really wearing them already, the whole time?
Doesn't fucking matter.
I grab him by the lapel of his jacket and yank him in through the door, throwing him toward the living room.
"Throw down."
"I told you, I'm not carrying." His voice is hoarse, low, shivery. Well, I'm shivering, anyway.
"That'd be pretty fucking stupid, Krycek," I sneer, and hold my gun to his temple as I reach around under his jacket to the back of his jeans, where he had the gun in Hong Kong. I thoroughly indulge my need to have my hands on him, rubbing all around his lower back and sliding my fingertips beneath the waistband of his jeans. His soft gasp is a hiss right in my ear. No gun. I lean back and quickly ram my hand into his jacket pockets, then think of something even better.
"Take it off." I gesture to the jacket with my gun. His lips part, but he moves quickly, shrugging it down his arms and then holding out to me. I snatch it from his hand roughly and throw it across the room, the zippers raking across my wooden floor.
His breath is coming so fast, I'm almost worried he'll hyperventilate, and for a second I watch his full chest heave beneath the wrinkled, sweaty white cotton of his T-shirt. He wipes his hands on his jeans. Nervous, Krycek? Good.
"Boots," I spit, nodding to his heavy, black motorcycle boots which could be hiding any multitude of sins. "Lose 'em." He immediately falls to one knee, hurriedly unfastening the buckle and lifting his foot out of first one boot, then the other. He makes to stand back up, but I step forward and give him a quick blow on his shoulder with my gun, making him fall back to his knees with a gasp. "Stay there."
Now I'm the one about the hyperventilate. He doesn't struggle for even an instant, even going so far as to place his hands behind him in classic handcuff-ready position, head bowed. It's fucking heady is what it is. I look at my gun, held to the side, not even pointing at him anymore, and notice it's trembling slightly.
No. This is *my* fucking night. He's the one I want trembling. Crying, gasping, panting...screaming. I level the gun at his bowed head, brushing the end of the barrel down the side of his face. He twitches but doesn't move away.
"Like it on your knees, Krycek?"
"No." It's barely a whisper, and he doesn't look up.
"Look at me." I think my voice shook just a little with that, but I said it so quietly that I don't think he noticed. I regret the order as soon as his deep, dark, pleading eyes scan up my body and meet my gaze. It nearly stops my heart. It does steal my breath.
And it's not defiance I see in those eyes, which deeply surprises me. It's kind of a patient, hopeful unhappiness. He really *doesn't* like it on his knees. But he's hoping it'll make me go easier on him. Not a fucking chance.
"You like these hazel-fucking-eyes?" I snarl, burning them into his.
He doesn't look away. His chest heaves in a deep, slow breath. "Yes."
"What color are they now, asshole? And what does that color say about me?" I force myelf not to fidget as he stares at me for a full ten seconds before answering.
"Dark brown. Just like always, Mulder. It means you want to hit me." The words are delivered quietly, not snidely. He's being perfectly honest and telling me what I asked him to. And he's right. I do want to hit him. I always want to hit him.
Loves me. Yeah, right. I'll never fucking let myself believe that. Never. I feel the black rage filling my chest, and I can't help but backhand him. He sways a bit, knocked off-balance for an instant, then he licks the blood from his lip and returns to staring at me calmly. I'm the one shaking. Still. Goddamn it! He just kneels there, hands behind his back, staring up me, blinking tears of pain out of his eyes now.
I watch them get caught in his long, dark eyelashes and remember what I told him when he wasn't Alex. That I couldn't imagine eyes any more beautiful than his. I swim in their deep green depths and feel how true it is. They're green. I didn't even know that. I just knew they were stunning. I can actually feel that the muscles in my face have relaxed, and I quickly tense back up, scowling.
"Shirt. Off."
His hands move around in front of him smoothly, arms crossing and grabbing the hem of his shirt, taking it off in a quick, efficient movement. Again he offers the shed garment to me, although there's no way he could have stashed a weapon in that. I take it. It's warm and sweaty. My fingers squeeze it for a moment before I fling it in the general direction of the jacket on the floor. I don't care. He'll be the one cleaning up afterward, not me.
He puts his hands behind his back again, and I look down, stepping back slightly to get a better look at the body I've pressed myself against so many times. I can't look at him, though, with him staring at me like that. But I don't want his head bowed, either. I just want to look at him without him looking at me.
"Turn your head," I order, turning mine briefly to the right to give him the idea. He looks away, turning his head to the right. He catches on quick. The tendon in his neck stands out in relief now, and I remember something else he said. His neck is sensitive. My cock jerks in my pants, stiffening even more, and I lick my lips, swallowing.
I'll have that neck before we're through. I'll have that and every other part of him every way I've wanted to, before this night is over. He's fucking *mine* for now, and I'm taking advantage of this short window of opportunity.
I stare at his face, turned to the side. I can tell it's driving him crazy, having me look him over so blatantly. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he works his throat, swallowing and licking his own lips, blinking rapidly, not daring to look at me. Nice. I let my eye travel down that tendon that I'm going to be tasting soon, down to the broad, strong shoulders, one of them sporting a new, deep red bruise. Sorry? No, I'm not. But I do find myself wanting to know what that bruise tastes like. My left hand goes to the fly of my jeans absently, stroking softly with my thumb.
Mine. Mine mine mine mine mine. I feel like stomping my feet and whining it, making sure everyone knows I'm not about to share. As my thumb strokes over an especially sensitive area on my cock, I gasp softly, and hear a puff of breath escape his lips, too.
"Want this?" I breathe. It hurts so much to think that he might not. That it's still all a lie. I clench my teeth and wait for the answer.
"Yes," he sighs, barely a word, more a breath. "I told you, Mulder, I-"
"Shut up!" I yell, feeling my voice crack, and he immediately closes his mouth. I reach down and grab as much hair as I can get hold of and yank hard, pulling him to his feet. He doesn't even take his hands from behind his back, struggling to his feet quickly, lips firmed, holding in all the treacherous, honeyed bullshit he wants to spew. He was supposed to be mine! He was supposed to love me and worship me and never fucking *leave*!
"Just shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" I scream into his face, pushing him backward, forcing him to walk backwards until he's near the wall. I throw him back against it, hard, and hear his head bounce off the plaster with a satisfying thud as his body impacts, driving his hands into the wall where they are *still* behind his back.
I want them free. I want them loose. I want to see him press them against the wall, unresisting as I hurt him. I look into his eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, and it only makes me angrier. You! You're crying? After what you've done to me, *you* think you have the right to cry? Fuck you!
"Fuck you!" I holler into his face, watching spittle hit his cheek. I reach down and yank first one arm, then the other, out from behind his back. I feel tears burning in my own eyes but I blink them back, letting the rage consume everything else. Everything but the lust.
His hair isn't gelled and stupid now. It's short and sweaty and spiked wildly where I just let go of it. I feel hundreds of silky strands tickle my hand where I ripped them out. I shake them off and grit my teeth, reaching up and taking hold of another good handful of dark, silky hair. I lean in close, feeling the heat radiate from his face into mine, feeling his panicky breaths puff against my lips as I press my gun into his ear.
"You think that because you come over here and bend over for me that all is just going to be forgiven, Krycek?" I keep my voice from choking, though the lump in my throat aches a little more with each word.
"No, Mulder, I just want-"
"Shut up!" I yell into his face irrationally, then my mouth is smashed against his, my tongue stabbing into it. I swallow his high, helpless whimper as I feel his body melt against mine where I'm pressing him against the wall. All but his dick, which is as hard as a billy club. I brush my hips back and forth, bumping my cock into his as I suck and grunt and bite his conniving little mouth, trying to suck down all the lies so no more will come from them. With each pass of my cock over his, I grunt and he whines. I swallow it deep into my throat hungrily. I feel his hands come up around me and I bite down on his lower lip briefly, tasting blood, then step back out of his embrace, growling.
I don't want affection from him. That just fills me with more rage. I just want his subjugation. That's all. I just want him to take it. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and it's shaking badly. If I didn't have the safety on the gun, I probably would have blown his fucking head off by now, and I wouldn't have even wanted to.
"Don't touch me!" I snarl, licking his blood off my lips, and he blinks rapidly, squinting, and his arms fall to his sides. "Just take your fucking pants off, Krycek." Even I'm surprised by how dark my voice sounds.
Ah yes, now his hands are trembling. Shaking badly as he struggles to unfasten his jeans, then push them and his black briefs to the floor, stepping out of them. He kicks them to the side and then stands, totally naked, against my wall, panting. His palms are pressed against the wall, just like my fantasy, and the fingers are scrabbling at the plaster. I reach down and wrench my jeans open with one hand, keeping a sweaty grip on my gun with the other. I know by now that I don't need it, but it makes me feel better, so I keep it. I push my jeans down just far enough to free my cock, and pull it out of my underwear, scratching it in my haste to get it free. It's all just sensation, added into the throbbing hum of *want* my body has become.
"Turn around." It's half-whisper, half choked sob, and he does it, spreading his legs without being asked, raising his hands and splaying them out against the wall, bracing himself. His back is broad, covered with a thin sheen of perspiration, hard and muscled, and completely hairless. I reach forward and put my hand on it, and his body twitches. So hot. So hard. So vulnerable. My hand curls into a claw and I rake a set of white trails down the middle of his back that quickly turn bright pink then red. He gasps and hisses, throwing his head back, but he doesn't try to get away. Can I ever hurt him enough? I don't think so. I think I'd have to kill him. And I don't think I really want to do that. Maybe I can fuck him out of my head once and for all.
His ass is pale and round. Fuller than mine. Completely fucking grabbable. I take hold of one firm cheek and squeeze as hard as I can, feeling my teeth grind against one another. I feel my nails sink into the tender flesh, and he grunts softly, hardening the muscles in defense. I just dig in harder and he's finally the first one to give. As soon as he relaxes, my urgency fades and I let go, watching the blood rush to the bruise and the tiny fingernail-cuts I've made. I palm over them with my hand and lean in, inhaling his sweat and his unique scent as muscles twitch beneath my hand.
I want to feel that back with my chest. I want to feel it pressed hot and sweaty against me as I push into him. I step back and deliberate for a second, then quickly set the gun on the floor. I watch his ribs expand and contract as he breathes heavily, still facing the wall, head forward and bowed. He's just fucking incredible. Like a Goddamned statue. What did he say? Sculpt him the way I want him? Somebody already did and I wouldn't change a thing.
So why did they give him such a lying, traitorous soul? I feel the tears that have been burning behind my eyes finally spill, coursing their way down my cheeks silently. Not fair. Not Goddamned fucking fair. I strip off my shirt in one violent movement, then push my pants down and off, deciding I want full-body contact as I fuck him. I want to feel him, as much of him as I can, to take it all and keep the memory after he's slunk away to plan his next deception.
I'm naked now, and my gun's on the floor. My dick is so hard it's jerking and aching and if I don't shove it into something soon I'm going to kill someone. I want this to last, though. I know it's all I get.
I step in slowly.
I'm standing right behind him now. No more than an inch between our bodies. I don't touch him. I just stand there, torturing myself with the usual feeling of looking upon the forbidden. Then my lips curl into a slow grin. He's mine now. Tonight he's mine. I take a deep shuddery breath and press my body against his, placing my hands on his, every bit of skin touching that I can manage.
He gasps loudly, his body jerking back, pressing more firmly into mine. My cock is sliding between his sweaty ass cheeks at the perfect height. Like we were made to fit together this way. My whole body shudders as I feel him writhe against me, leaning hard into my touch, head back, falling against my shoulder, baring his throat. That tendon standing out in relief once again.
I turn my head slowly and open my mouth against it, sucking with a groan as I thrust against his ass, sliding my cock up and down between the cheeks of his ass.
"Oh God, Oh fuck, Mulder..." He's babbling now, and I press his hands more firmly into the plaster as I suck even harder on his neck, tasting the blood as I break capillaries. "Fffffuck me!" he hisses, and it's like a post- hypnotic suggestion, the way my right hand goes to my dick and wraps around it, lining it up for entry.
No lube and I didn't think to get a condom ready. Fuck! I let go of his neck and move to his ear, placing my lips against it.
"Are you clean?" I ask, and I feel his body shiver. "I'll fucking kill you, Krycek. I'll kill you if you give me so much as a rash, you hear me?"
"I'm clean, Mulder," he gasps, shaking. "I swear it. I swear to fucking God, I'm clean."
For some Godforsaken, lust-impaired reason, I believe him. Without further preliminaries, I grip myself more tightly and start to shove into him. I don't care if it hurts. I want it to. I want it to burn all of my stupid, dangerous thoughts and feelings away until I'm just a raw, fucked mess. He's making these little short, high, whimpering grunts, holding back the sounds he wants to make. It hurts, I'm sure. It's burning my cock as I keep shoving into the tight opening, sweat the only thing easing the way. It breaches the ring of muscle and we both gasp in unison. Was I burning before? It was nothing compared to this.
His body is like a furnace searing its imprint onto my cock permanently. I'm panting against his back now and I bring my hand back up so both of mine are once against pressing his into the wall. He spreads his fingers wider so mine can slip between them, and I mark the gesture for what it is. Further submission. I groan and push harder, rocking against him, working my way slowly into his body.
He's pushing back against me, his forehead pressing hard against the wall as he uses it for further leverage. I give one last, hard thrust and I'm all the way in, surrounded by the tightest, hottest thing my cock has ever felt. I groan long and low and settle in against him. I lick the back of his neck and hear him whimper again, and the small sound of desperation makes me bite down on the hard column of flesh like a mating lion.
Mine.
"Yeah, yours," he whispers, and I realize I said it against his neck. Yeah, right, mine. The lie only pisses me off and I pull my hips back and ram into him, hard, bouncing his body and his hard cock against my wall. He grunts on impact and groans, high and shuddery.
"Yeah, right, fucking mine," I snarl into his hair, snapping my hips as I start fucking him hard and fast and deep. "You'll never be mine, Krycek," I say, feeling the tears run down my face again. "Not like I want you," I whisper, pumping into him harder. His body is pressed flush to the wall now, and the only way he's going to get off is by the friction of plaster on his cock. I don't give a shit. This isn't about him.
"I am...I can be, Mulder," he says, and his voice is low and breathy and breaking, like mine. "God, I wanna be!"
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to hear what I want to hear so badly, but can't let myself believe. I fuck him harder, pleasure merging with pain as my cock ratchets into him, hard and brutal. He grunts and gasps with each impact, the force driving the air from his lungs. I feel my body winding into a tight coil, so good and so bad. Suddenly, my mouth drops open as my whole body goes stiff, and I sob hard as I come, yelling my rage and pain into his ear as I pump it into his body.
As I come down, I collapse against him, my body shaking violently with my sobs. I can't even begin to contain them now, my whole body made open by my orgasm. I just lie there and cry against him. Not enough. Never enough.
"Mulder...Mulder, please..." I dimly register his voice, inches from my face, and I open my tear-filled eyes and see that his are squeezed tightly shut, his face as wet as mine. And I know, somehow, that it's not what he's pleading for, but I work my right hand free of his and stroke it down his arm and work it between his body and the wall, leaning back to give us both room. I want to make him come. I don't let myself think about why.
"Oh...oh, Mulder..." He's sobbing as I wrap my hand around his hot, battered cock, and I stroke up from base to tip, gently and slowly, already feeling his silken flesh throb and swell against my hand as I bring him closer in just two more strokes. I feel it jerk on the third, and suddenly it's pulsing hotly, his body rigid under mine as he groans out his climax loudly, coming on my name. Then I feel his body go as boneless as mine, and we fall against the wall as one, my hand protecting his drained cock from the wall.
It's so quiet now, except for the twin rasps of our breathing. I shudder out the last of my tears then unwrap my hand from around his dick as I pull back. He hisses brokenly as I slide out of him, and I push away from him and the wall, feeling empty and dirty and tired.
It's not enough. I knew it wouldn't be. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to fuck him *so* badly, but I knew it wouldn't make things any better. They're worse, now. Worse because I know now what I can never really have. Him. All of him. Forever.
My God. Why do I want this man so badly? I wipe the tears out of my eyes with my clean hand, keeping the cum-covered one held out at my right side. I watch as he slowly turns around to face me, moving as if it pains him to do so. I'm sure it does. Is the pain as sharp as what I'm feeling, Alex? If you can leave me with mine again, carrying that pain, maybe I can feel a little better.
He faces me, and I see his arms raise just a little, hesitantly, as if to offer me an embrace. Oh God no. I step back quickly.
"You need to go," I croak, staring at the floor. I put my hand over my eyes, feeling ashamed and frustrated.
"I-" he starts. But I don't let him finish, feeling the tears start again.
"Just go," I sob, and back away, hearing and feeling him try to follow, but I turn quickly and go into my bedroom, closing the door firmly, standing alone in the dark.
It's quiet on the other side for a few minutes, then I hear the creak of the floorboards as I presume he gathers up his clothes and gets dressed. I stare at my hand in the dark, at the evidence of having made Alex Krycek come in my hand, and I look down at my softening cock, slicked with my own cum and just a little blood.
Jesus God what have I done? I fucked a man. Brutally. Not just a man. My enemy. Not just my enemy, but Alex Krycek, the only person who's ever really hurt me since my sister disappeared. I let him make me want him. I let him make me want to trust him. I let him get close enough to me that I could fuck him, thinking it would burn away this long- standing ache and feeling of unending, hollow need.
But it's only gotten worse, and I swallow it back as I finally hear the door open and close, signalling his exit. My hand is cooling in the early morning air, and it's shaking badly as I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I step under the hot water and wash away his cum and his smell, feeling anything but clean. Anything but better.
End, Chapter One
hidingnthelight: Mulder.
hidingnthelight: Mulder?
hidingnthelight: Mulder, please.
hidingnthelight: Okay. I didn't really think you *would* talk to me.
hidingnthelight: I guess...
hidingnthelight: I just hoped... I guess... I don't know. I don't, Mulder. I'm sorry for everything.
hidingnthelight: Maybe you won't mind if I sit here and talk to myself.
hidingnthelight: I don't even know if you're really there...watching. Why you'd be here if not for... Anyway. I suppose I should just count myself lucky...
hidingnthelight: I never thought I'd have even that much. Never. Not even when I decided to contact you anonymously...
hidingnthelight: It's kind of...nice really. I mean. Fuck. It could never get any worse. And now at least... Now at least I know how it feels when...
hidingnthelight: When you... Shit, I'm crying. And you don't care. Why in *hell* would you? I'm just Alex Krycek. I'm just nothing. Worse than that.
hidingnthelight: I guess I'll go. I'm really sorry, Mulder. For what it's worth.
medrul: You're right, Alex. What you are is worse than nothing.
hidingnthelight: Please, Mulder. Don't go. Keep talking. Please.
hidingnthelight: I know you're there! Please!
hidingnthelight: Why *are* you there then? Huh? Please fucking *God* didn't it mean anything to you?!
medrul: Yeah, it did.
hidingnthelight: And...what is that? Mulder?
hidingnthelight: I know I don't deserve it, but give me something.
medrul: It was a mistake.
medrul: I thought it would make a difference. Evidently you did, too. We were both wrong.
hidingnthelight: It made a difference to me, Mulder. I was stupid to hope it would for you, too.
medrul: How could *that* make a difference for you? It was sick, wrong, bloody...God, I just feel...
hidingnthelight: How do you feel?
medrul: Empty.
hidingnthelight: Me, too.
hidingnthelight: But it's different for me. It wasn't just sick and wrong and bloody. It was...you. And you were touching me. You put your fingers in between mine. Mulder, why did you get undressed? You could have done it without having to feel yourself up against me. Ask yourself why.
medrul: Ask. Myself. Why.
medrul: Fuck you, Krycek.
hidingnthelight: Please, I don't say it to hurt you!
hidingnthelight: Don't you get that I fucking *loved* you for it!
hidingnthelight: Don't you get that *yes*, it was dirty, *yes* it was up against a wall and I fucking couldn't see your eyes, Mulder, and *yes* it hurt...you hurt me... But I loved you for it. I love you, Mulder.
medrul: God...stop saying that!
hidingnthelight: Why? What does it do to you? Does it make you want to hit me again? My not saying it won't make it not true. I'm so fucking sick of not saying it. Where has not saying it gotten me? What the *fuck* do I have to lose?
medrul: What does it do to me? You wanna know what it does to me.
hidingnthelight: Yes. I do.
medrul: It makes me want to rip my fucking hair out...it makes me want to scream and smash every fucking thing in sight!
hidingnthelight: Why?
hidingnthelight: Because it sickens you that something so vile as myself professes to love?
hidingnthelight: That someone like me can attach the word love onto anything at all connected to you. That loving is a human thing and if you believe I love you then you have to accept that I'm not all monster. And that can't be, can it? Shit. Why would you ever believe otherwise of me when I keep proving you right?
medrul: No, Alex, *love*, that's not fucking *it*.
medrul: You've made me question my judgement, my sanity, my sexuality...every Goddamned thing I am!!
hidingnthelight: How can I do that? I'm nothing.
medrul: No. Remember? We've established. You're worse than nothing.
hidingnthelight: Because I killed your father.
medrul: I trusted you, once, Alex. I liked you. You made me feel good when I didn't think that would be possible. You made me believe that someone could feel that way...about *me*.
hidingnthelight: I've always felt this way about you. That may be the only truth I've ever let you see.
medrul: How can I let myself believe that? When it hurts so fucking bad?
hidingnthelight: Don't believe it. Just...let me come over again. Let me show you. Heal yourself on me.
medrul: Jesus fucking Christ, no. I *HATE* myself for what I did. Don't. Don't you dare.
hidingnthelight: Jesus, it wasn't supposed to be about you hating yourself! Why'd I have to fall for such a self-involved asshole?! You hate ME, remember?! I *deserve* what you do to me.
medrul: Is this my fate? Loving some insane, double-crossing liar, murderer, traitor? What the hell did I ever do to deserve this?
hidingnthelight: Wait, what?
medrul: Nothing. Fucking scotch.
hidingnthelight: I refuse to believe that. Mulder, when you first pressed your body against mine... You can't fucking tell me it wasn't there. Underneath all that anger and fear and hate... I *felt* it. Please. Let me show you how it could be if we could just let the rest of the shit we've gone through go.
medrul: Stay away from me.
hidingnthelight: No.
medrul: Don't you *dare* fucking come over here, Krycek. You'll kill any Goddamned chance you might have.
hidingnthelight: Not tonight then. Whatever you need, Mulder. But you can't avoid this forever. I know you. It'll eat at you. It doesn't have to. Take time now, but know it'll be soon. Know I'll do anything.
medrul: Why? Why do you make me these promises? You have to know...of course you know. Your fucking broken promises are just about the only thing I can't handle. Fucking scotch. My father drank scotch. You'd think I'd know how damned stupid it makes you.
hidingnthelight: He almost killed you, you know. Your father. And don't think I don't know you'll flay me for saying that, but you need to know the truth. It's about time I told you the truth. There's some unnecessary shit between us. I'm not fool enough to think it'll all go away, but you have to know... I killed your father, Mulder. I killed him to save *you*.
medrul: Gee, thanks.
hidingnthelight: Do you get what I'm telling you?! They would have sent two men, Mulder. They'd've done it like they did Melissa. If he'd told you what he knew. I tapped your phone, Mulder. I knew he was about to talk. I couldn't let him.
hidingnthelight: I'm sorry for the pain it causes you. But I'd do it again.
medrul: Tapped my phone *and* poisoned my building's water supply. You really do get around, don't you?
hidingnthelight: It wasn't me, Mulder.
medrul: Okay then, who?
hidingnthelight: Fuck if I know, Mulder, I don't know everything.
hidingnthelight: Just because I killed your father doesn't mean somebody *else* wouldn't want to still frame *you* for it.
medrul: Why couldn't you just...stop him? Why did you have to kill him? Why'd it have to be *you*?
hidingnthelight: You don't think he was warned? You don't think he fucking knew? He was visited, Mulder. By our smoking friend. He knew it all: what danger telling you would cause...that he'd be a target and then you would. I had my reasons for doing what I did. Others had different reasons, but the outcome would've been the same.
medrul: You mean if you hadn't killed him, someone else would have? I thought you were acting on your own. Keep your story straight, Krycek.
hidingnthelight: The story's never straight. It's only varying degrees of crooked.
medrul: Like you.
hidingnthelight: I never said I was straight.
hidingnthelight: I'm honest when I can be. When it won't get someone killed.
hidingnthelight: And yeah, I know. But I don't kill with glee or without thought. I'd rather not, actually. But we don't live in a world where talking solves things.
hidingnthelight: We're proving that right now.
medrul: We are, eh? I thought we were getting somewhere. Guess I'll just go back to my straight porn, then.
hidingnthelight: Where were we getting, Mulder?
hidingnthelight: Clue me in here, 'cause I'm just trying to keep my head above the waves.
medrul: Killing doesn't solve everything, either, Krycek. Neither does fucking. Where are we? Fuck if I know. But I'm here.
hidingnthelight: What were you feeling? When we were fucking?
medrul: It hurt. It hurt so much.
hidingnthelight: Because you thought that's all it was.
medrul: Because...I thought if I just fucked you...if I just fucked the holy hell out of you, that I could quit wanting anything more.
hidingnthelight: You could have more. You *do* have more. Whether you accept that or not.
medrul: I don't have jack shit.
hidingnthelight: You have me. If you want me. You claimed me. I'm yours.
medrul: If you think what I did to you gives me what I want, then you really don't know what wanting you means.
hidingnthelight: I think you won't let yourself have any more than a fuck. If you don't know what I mean when I say you have *all* of me, then *you* don't truly know what you've got.
hidingnthelight: What do you want? What can I give to you? Just ask me.
medrul: I want to know that you'll be here, still loving me, today, tomorrow, the next day...I want you to never leave. I want you to put as much energy into loving me as you've put into hurting me. I want you. All of you. All the time. Whenever I want. I don't want you to ever, ever disappear again.
hidingnthelight: When can I start?
medrul: Alex...I'm not kidding, here. I won't be able to take it if this isn't real. I'll kill you, and I'll kill myself. I can't go through it again. I can't.
medrul: Yeah, pretty high fucking stakes, huh, Alex? Fuck it. Just...forget I said anything. Don't ever, ever bring it up again. I'll kill you. I swear, I will.
medrul signed off at 2:49:47 AM.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck what did I do? God! How could I be so stupid? I dash the drunken tears from my eyes and stagger away from the desk, staring at the computer like it's a demon from hell.
Oh God. Oh my God what I said. This can't be happening. It's all just a bad, bad, sick, horrible dream. And hey, while we're in denial, I didn't fuck him last weekend, either. Just another wet dream, like always.
I need more scotch. I need to drink until I pass out. Maybe I'll get really lucky and get alcohol poisoning. Problem is, I drained the fucking bottle already. And I'm *way* too shit-faced to even walk to the store. And it's...fuck. It's three a.m. in the Goddamned morning. Thank God It's Friday my *ass*. I'm really beginning to *hate* fucking Fridays.
What the hell was I doing online? Jesus, did I actually *want* to discuss this with him? No no no no no. I refuse to believe that. I refuse to think about it anymore. I refuse to think anymore at all. Beer. I know I have some beer in the bottom of the fridge.
I stumble into the kitchen, catching myself on the wall briefly, then swing open the fridge and lean in, nearly falling on top of the three styrofoam containers of Chinese food within. Yes. Three Rolling Rocks. I pull all three out, spinning around and slamming two down on the counter, twisting the top off the other, ignoring how the little edges of the cap cut into my hand. I'm feeling no pain.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that, asshole. I drink the beer so fast I can't even taste it and break open another one. I'm starting to wonder if I can make it in to my couch to pass out comfortably when I hear it.
A knock on my door. Holy Mary Mother of God, no. No!
"No!" I scream at the door, spilling my beer. I slam the bottle down as I pass the table, scrambling for my gun. I hear the clink as the bottle falls over, the precious liquid splashing over the side of the table and onto the floor as I settle my hand around the grip of my gun.
I won't let him do this to me again. I won't. I stand there staring at the door, which hasn't made a sound since the original knock. Maybe my 'no' scared him away. Then I see the knob turn, and I raise the gun, swaying as I level it where I know his head will be in just a minute. Is the safety on? I don't know. Can't tell from here and don't wanna brush my finger over it to find out. I readjust my grip on the gun, spreading my feet for balance.
The door opens just a crack.
"Mulder?"
"Fuck off, Kryshek!" I slur, waving my gun.
"Please, Mulder..."
"I'll fuckin' kill you!" I yell, tightening my grip. I think I will, too. I think this is it, tonight. He's fucked with me too many times and he knows too much, now. I can't live with him knowing all that. Or he can't live. One of us can't live.
"Then do it, if you have to," he says, the door beginning to open wider. "But I can't leave things like this. I can't, and I won't." He pushes the door open slowly, then steps through it carefully. He immediately zeroes in on me, a few feet away, gun pointed right at his forehead.
I blink, feeling dizzy and sick.
"Jesus, Mulder...you're drunk."
I laugh. Honor student, that boy. "No fucking shit, Krycek. What the fuck do you want?"
He steps in further and closes the door with his foot without looking behind him. He doesn't take his eyes off me, moving slowly and carefully, hands up, palms out. It's funny, really, because I know he's not here to hurt me. Not physically, anyway, so there isn't the usual fear. No, this one's completely different.
"I want what you want, Mulder. I want to give you everything. Everything you said you wanted. Anything you need. Anything at all."
No you don't! My head is screaming inside, but all that comes out are more damned tears, and they blur my vision. Without thinking, severely impeded by alcohol, I wipe them away with my right wrist. The one holding the gun.
He's on me in half a second, grabbing the gun and twisting it out of my nerveless fingers effortlessly. I hear it clatter across the floor and then he's pressed up against me, holding my arms down at my sides in a firm bear hug.
Too much...too close too much too hot...all I can feel is him...he's all I can smell. I'm struggling in his hold, but he just patiently waits it out, not budging, his arms like steel bands around me.
"Sssshhh..." he hushes me, and I feel the air on my neck. Then I feel his lips, so soft against my neck, so soft that I'm not even sure they're really touching me. My body writhes in a full-body shiver, and even though I really don't want it to, my head falls to the side slightly, begging for more. More touch, please, please, please more touch.
"Oh Mulder," he murmurs in my ear, licking the lobe with his hot tongue, and alcohol or no, I'm hard as a fucking rock. And I'm pressed in so close to him I can feel the buttons of his shirt digging into my chest through the cotton of my T-shirt.
"No...no..." I'm protesting, but my hips are already moving, rubbing against the hard ridge of flesh mashed up against them. Oh God...so good...I feel the tears drip off my jaw and onto my neck. I'm barely aware of them at all, except for the wet burn in my eyes and the occasional tickle on my shoulder.
"Uhhnn..." he groans, moving his hips in concert with mine. We're pressed so close together that it's hard to move, but we're both doing our damndest. And he's still kissing me, though it's firmer now. I can feel those soft, pink lips pressing against my neck, my ear, my jaw, and each time they touch me, my stupid, needy, traitorous throat lets out another gasping breath.
"Love you. Love you, Mulder, let me love you..." His voice is deep and hot in my ear, and I close my eyes, going slack in his arms, no longer able to summon enough energy to fight.
I hear a pathetic, high-pitched sobbing and I'm only disgusted enough to realize it's me, but not enough to do anything about it. And I'm being slowly shuffled backward and sideways. I don't fight it, letting him lead my body where he will, not even using enough energy to wonder where that might be.
"So beautiful, Mulder, you're so beautiful...God, I want you so bad..." He keeps up the breathy litany as we make our way to our destination. His arms around me don't restrain now. His hands run up and down my back, making me shiver as he takes me through to the back of my apartment. Dimly I realize we're entering my seldom-used bedroom. I laugh softly through my tears, thinking about the boxes of files all over the bed. Mr. Romance, that's me. What the fuck is happening here?
"Hmm," I feel him hum against my hair, obviously surveying the box- covered bed. I just stand there, feeling his arms around me, his breath on my neck. My arms hang still at my sides, my head lolling to the side to give him room. I inhale deeply, and his smell makes me dizzy...dizzier, that is, as he's about the only thing still holding me up at this point. "Mulder?" he asks me quietly in my ear.
"Mm."
"I need to clear this off. Can you just let me clear this off? Can I let go of you?"
I laugh again. He's afraid I'm gonna...what? Run? Go for my gun? Fuck, I'm afraid I'm gonna just slide to the floor if he lets go.
He steps back a little, and I can see his face now. His eyes, so big and dark and concerned...so fucking gorgeous. I'm staring at them, weaving a little as he loosens his arms from around my body.
"Fucking eyelashes..." It's all I can get out, and it sure makes sense to me.
He laughs, and I realize I'm smiling along with him, though I don't know why. His smile just makes me smile back. I smile some more and he shifts me over to the wall, leaning me against it. I sigh deeply and miss his hands as they leave me. I even lift my own, reaching for him as he steps away, but he's turned now and doesn't see it. They fall to my sides, slapping against my thighs. I lean against the wall and watch him.
He strips off his jacket, laying it on top of my dresser, on top of my tie from today's workday. Will it smell like him tomorrow? I hope so. That'd be nice. He leans over my bed, and I watch the muscles in his back and arms bunch and stretch as he moves the file boxes carefully but quickly to the floor. His nose wrinkles up as the dust flies around him, and he wiggles it, rubbing it quickly with his fingers. I snicker. His nose is cute.
"What?" He looks up at me and I widen my eyes, trying to look innocent.
I fail and snort, "Your nose. It's little." I'm trying to be very serious now.
"Uh, yeah," he says, his head nodding slowly. I nod mine in return, like a mirror image, and he smiles and turns back to the bed.
Yeah, still a fuckin' mess, ain't it? Jesus, I don't even remember making it. Musta been...like...a year ago? He wrinkles up his nose again as he takes hold of the dusty coverlet, and I smirk, covering my mouth with my hand to hide it. He pulls the thing down to the foot of the bed, along with the blanket and top sheet, and flips them down on the floor. Then he stands up and takes three quick, aborted breaths before sneezing spectacularly.
"Bless you," I tell him, grinning. I just watched Alex Krycek sneeze on my bedroom dust. My life's weird.
He turns and his eyes are narrowed, extremely serious. "Thanks," he says softly, and I nod, suddenly feeling just as serious.
"So...what do we do now?" I ask, feeling my heart speed up. It quickens even more as he steps over to me, stopping about two feet in front of me.
"Now I make love to you," he says in a low, dark, promising voice.
Oh.
I can feel my head shaking, saying 'no' silently, even while my breath pants out through parted lips and my dick throbs against my jeans.
"Yes, Mulder. You had me your way. Now I want you my way."
I frown. No, that wasn't my way. Not my way at all, Alex, don't you see? I feel the tears start to burn again, and I feel bad. Dirty and bad and sorry.
"No...Alex..."
He steps in, reaching for my upper arms again. "Yes," he says, misunderstanding my meaning. I let him pull me forward, and I feel like I'm falling as he pulls me in and puts his lips to mine.
Oh *God* yeah...so warm...so soft...I moan against his mouth and get a deeper one in response as his arms go around me once again, pulling me in warm and tight against his chest. Oh yes, Alex, so good...kiss me... I know I'm sloppy because of the booze, parting my lips and trying to invite him to take it deeper. He groans and tilts his head, compensating for *my* nose, which is *not* little, then his tongue slides into my mouth, strong and hot. I groan and suck on it, the only talent I seem to be able to muster right now.
But my hands aren't held to my sides this time, and I wrap them tightly around his waist, digging in with my nails, pulling him in harder. He's so hot and hard under my hands...but the damned stupid shirt is in the way. I yank it up, moaning as my hands slide up under it, feeling his naked skin. He jerks against me, whimpering in my mouth, and I vaguely remember hurting this back. Scratching it with such anger... But I don't feel it now. It was drowned in the scotch and words, and now I just want to feel skin, skin, skin.
"God, yes, Mulder, touch me," I feel him say into my mouth. I grunt and try harder to do just that, my hands sliding over his back, feeling his ribs...he's too thin...slipping down his sides, enjoying the way his body presses into my touch, writhing as his own hands start pulling my shirt up my back as well.
"Oh, Alex," I moan breathily as his hot hands flatten out on my bare skin. Oh God, all I want ever is to be touched by this man. Like this...just like this.
And we're moving again. I'm being pulled forward and I just close my eyes and go, letting him turn me around, then feeling my body in a short free-fall as he lays me down on the bed, divesting me of my T-shirt in the process. I moan a little, missing the contact between our bodies, but he's just standing there, his eyes gleaming as he stares down at me, chest heaving. It makes me so dizzy, a blanket of sensation spinning me around in space, and I close my eyes, clutching at the blankets, trying to find purchase again.
"No, open them, please," I hear, and I feel a fingertip brush down the center of my bare chest. I gasp and open my eyes, and he smiles again. This time I can't smile back because I'm held paralyzed, laid out on the bed, pinned by that gaze. "Brown," he says softly. "They're brown."
Huh? His words take a minute to make sense, then I think, well of course they are. I want to touch you. Like always. I want you to touch me. Just like I always have.
He takes his finger away, and I watch as he pulls his shirt off over his head. His hair is messy and spiky and I just want to touch it. Smooth it. Just feel it. I smile because I know I'm going to get to. He sees it and squints, blinking. He looks pained. Don't look pained, Alex. Just take off your pants.
I look down at his crotch, waiting for him to start, and he's so hard and full under there. Am I that hard? I feel that hard. I look down at my own crotch, straining my neck to see. Yep, pretty damned hard. I need to get my pants off, too.
"Take m'pants off," I sigh, my head falling back on the bed, eyes closing again. I feel his hands at my waist, gently working at the button, then dragging the zipper down. It feels so good to have room for my dick to expand. I groan, undulating up into his touch.
"God, Mulder..." And he's pulling them down, along with my underwear, which is good, because I'm getting impatient. I feel the air cooling on my heated skin as the jeans leave my body and he strips off my socks quickly. I'm naked now, lying diagonal across the bed, one leg hanging off the side. I feel his hand on it, lifting it gently and placing it on the bed, scooting me over to the middle, and even putting a pillow under my head. Mmmm...I let myself float in the sensation of being completely taken care of.
Then I hear the sound of another zipper and open my eyes. Don't wanna miss this. I watch, and his hands are shaking as he unfastens his pants much more quickly than he did my own. He pushes them down his thighs and my mouth drops open as his dick jumps out. It's so hard and standing straight up, flush against his flat belly. I groan, high and needy. God, is that me? Straight, uninterested Mulder? I really wanna taste that cock, though. It just looks...good. I'm staring at it as he kicks his boots off, and it bounces as they thunk onto the floor. Then he looks up through his lashes at me, slightly bent over from taking off his boots, and catches me looking. I look up at his eyes, and I gasp softly again, because I've never seen that look before. Scary-intense- hungry...and scared, too. I feel like a four-course meal in front of a starving man.
And he walks forward. I just watch, breathing hard, as he climbs onto the bed, settling into a kneeling position over my left leg. I feel his ass and the soft, silken skin of his balls settle in, and he sighs deeply, running his fingers up my thighs and down again. I see him swallow, and I frown as I see tears sparkling behind those long, dark lashes. God, just touch me, Alex, please... But I can't say it. I feel so naked and vulnerable. I feel heavy, like I can't move, but I'm shivering with each pass of his fingertips over my legs, and now my hips. I try to raise up a little, feeling panicky, but he places one hand on my chest and pushes me back firmly but gently.
"Just lie down, Mulder. Just let me show you...you want the truth? Let me show you the truth."
The truth. Shut up, Alex. Less talk, more action. But he doesn't need me to tell him that as the hand on my chest strokes over to my nipple and flicks across it, as the other hand settles in on my hip. I buck up into the tantalizing touch with a choked cry, and the skin of my belly comes in contact with those perfect lips. Perfect, perfect lips that are opening against me, hot and wet, and a tongue that's painting me with burning kisses, slow and easy, all over my belly. His right hand continues to play with my nipples, one then the other. His left curls itself around the base of my cock and I'm gasping, moaning, writhing under his touch. I feel like a slut, but I'm totally unable to care as that mouth goes lower, murmuring against my skin as it moves.
Ah, I can touch his hair now. I do, placing my hands on his head, threading my fingers in deep, feeling the heat of his scalp. He moans against me, moving a little more quickly, and I start to whimper as his lips brush closer to my jumping cock and he squeezes it rhythmically with his hand.
I don't wanna beg, but if he doesn't put his mouth on me soon, I'm gonna. Just as my throaty whining becomes really pathetic, he opens his mouth and takes me in deep, humming hotly as I sink into him.
"Ahhhhh! Alex!" Alex, Alex, Alex...oh Alex, yes...I'm scratching his scalp with my nails, trying so very hard not to grab his head and fuck it. Ssssso goooood as his tongue works hard patterns on the underside, moving quick, and his lips wrap snugly around the shaft, protecting me completely from his small, white teeth. I can't help it, I'm thrusting up into his mouth, moaning and thrashing, and all I can *feel* is that hot, wet, moving mouth taking me deep, sliding up and down, fast then slow, never leaving, just licking, sucking and humming me to complete insanity.
"Aleh...Aleh..." I wanna tell him I'm gonna come now...gonna come so hard, but words won't form, my jaw slack and uncooperative. He grunts and moves faster, and I grab his hair and hold on, feeling my body begin to wind up into an endless spin. Ohhhh God, I'm almost scared...
"AHHHHHHFUUUUUUCK ALEX!" I scream, my mouth finally doing my bidding as my body seeks to ram itself down his throat, bucking and spasming, shooting my need over his tongue and down his throat. Oh, oh, oh my God, I've never felt so released, so completely done-in. I feel like it goes on for a full minute, just draining me and draining me.
I'm panting and loosening the grip on his hair as I feel his mouth slowly leave my tingling cock, his lips leaving tiny, butterfly kisses that feel like electric shocks as he goes. I pet his head a few times, trying to catch my breath, trying to tell him it was good...so good, Alex. Then my hands fall to the bed, and all I know is the deep, warm, welcoming black of sleep.
End, Chapter Two
Chapter Three
hidingnthelight: Did you find my note? Mulder, where have you been? Are you all right?
medrul: Note?
hidingnthelight: I didn't know if you would be okay..waking up and... I left you a note. Which you obviously didn't get.
medrul: If you were afraid I might come to my senses and blow your head off, you're right.
medrul: And no, I didn't find any fucking note while I was puking my guts up all day long.
hidingnthelight: I thought... Mulder, I thought we wanted the same thing. I only wanted to love you.
medrul: I'm surprised I didn't wake up with "Alex Krycek was here!" tattooed on my ass.
hidingnthelight: It wasn't like that. It wasn't some conquest. Do you not remember? God, of course you don't. How much had you had to drink, Mulder?
medrul: Too Goddamned fucking much.
hidingnthelight: Then I'm sorry. Shit, Mulder. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. But you seemed to...want it. Want me. I let myself believe you did. I wanted you. So bad. I thought it was okay. I was stupid.
medrul: You know what I remember? I remember me, wanting to kill you. I remember being shoved around my own apartment, so dizzy I couldn't stand up by myself. And then I remember waking up and heaving for about fifteen minutes straight.
medrul: Oh yeah. Waking up naked. I do remember that.
hidingnthelight: No. Jesus. How can you... Mulder, that's not right. What happened between us...it happened between *us*.
medrul: Ha! Oh I'm sure you'd like to believe that! Did you know I once got drunk and actually got fucking *married*? 'Course you do. You know everything. Well then you should know I was so shitfaced I would have fucked a goat.
hidingnthelight: You're right. It was wrong to do it. I knew you were drunk. I was even going to stop, but... But you put your hands in my hair. And you said my name. And for once it didn't sting like a slap. I wanted it so bad. I just wanted to make love to you.
medrul: You don't gain someone's trust by showing up when they're completely fucked up and date-raping them, Krycek.
hidingnthelight: It felt like making love, Mulder. You wake up thinking I raped you, but I thought you felt the way I did last night. I thought I was finally doing something good.
medrul: God, do you know how completely wasted I had to be to let a *man*...let alone *you* for Christ's sake...! That shoulda clued you in right there.
medrul: I'm not fucking gay, Krycek. You may play 'bend over boyfriend' every Friday night, but this is NOT my life.
hidingnthelight: Fuck you, Mulder. You can hate me for what I've done to your life. You can hate me for lying to you. But that homophobic bullshit won't fly. How are you going to rationalize away *last* Friday? You weren't drunk, and you could have just beaten me to a pulp. Why sex? Why? You can kid yourself all you want, but don't fucking judge *me* because you're not liking who you are.
medrul: I told you. That was a mistake.
hidingnthelight: How many Friday nights have you fallen asleep thinking what it would be like to bend me over?
medrul: Not as many as I've spent thinking about beating the shit out of you.
hidingnthelight: I shouldn't even allow myself to get angry about this. I can *see* what's going on with you. Shit, I've *been* there. I know, Mulder. I've felt the kind of shame you feel. A long time ago when aliens didn't exist. It doesn't make it feel any better, though, when you say things like that. If you're going to be a prick at least do it right.
medrul: How would
you like me to be a prick to you, Krycek?
hidingnthelight: Shut up, Mulder. I went over there last night, not to swallow some nice cock or to get myself laid or whatever you think it was. I certainly didn't go over there with the intention of forcing you. I'm sorry you remember it that way. I went over there, because I honestly thought I could make you feel how much I mean it when I say I love you...if I could just touch you...
hidingnthelight: And when I started touching you, and you touched me back... Mulder, I was just gone. Tell me you remember feeling it, too.
medrul: Feeling what? I don't remember feeling anything but horny, dizzy, and stupid.
hidingnthelight: Fine. If you don't remember last night... Do you remember when we first met? Do you? Don't *tell* me you don't know what I'm talking about; I *know* you do.
medrul: Of course I remember that. I wasn't shitfaced then.
medrul: And what the hell *are* you talking about, Krycek?
hidingnthelight: I'm talking about what's between us. What there was from the start before everything went to hell. Did you want me, Mulder?
medrul: What does it matter how I felt then? Things are different now. I'm smarter.
hidingnthelight: Just answer me.
medrul: Maybe. Maybe I wondered what it would be like. So?
hidingnthelight: So it has nothing to do with how smart you think you are. And yeah, I think you're brilliant, Mulder. This has to do with things beyond your control. Is your dick hard right now? If I were there, would you choose hitting me over fucking me now that you know what it's like?
medrul: Just because my body has a reaction to you doesn't mean I have to do anything about it.
hidingnthelight: You feel like crying, don't you, when we get to touch, because it feels so goddamned good? It feels like everything is finally *right*! Doesn't it? And how do you feel right now? Does this...this separation, this rage, this old pain...does it make you happy?
medrul: Fuck you, Krycek.
hidingnthelight: Is that your answer? Fucking me over hitting me?
hidingnthelight: Answer me! I'm there right now. We're face to face. What do you want?
medrul: It doesn't matter!
hidingnthelight: It matters more than anything.
hidingnthelight: I know you want me. I even know you love me. And if I were there, I wouldn't let you hide from it. I'm hard for you. Do you want it? Do you want to touch it?
medrul: God...Jesus...God...
hidingnthelight: You don't remember, or do you, how it was last night? You were in my mouth, Mulder. I sucked you. You taste so good. I love the feel of you in my mouth. I've waited so long for it. For you.
hidingnthelight: Do you remember?!
medrul: Yes.
hidingnthelight: And how did it feel? Do you remember that?
medrul: Yes.
hidingnthelight: When you held my head to your cock... When you came in my mouth... Were you happy, Mulder? Were you?
medrul: Yes. Yes yes yes! Fuck!
hidingnthelight: It's okay, Mulder. I was happy, too.
medrul: How...how can we possibly do this?
hidingnthelight: All I know is we have to. It'll kill us not to.
medrul: I know.
hidingnthelight: I love you. I want to be with you. Right now. I want to see your eyes.
medrul: I don't know...I don't know if I'm ready...
hidingnthelight: Okay, Mulder. I can do this here. Whatever you need. Just talk to me, okay?
medrul: Okay.
hidingnthelight: When we were partners...
hidingnthelight: Before things got...fucked. How did you feel about me?
medrul: You...no one's ever made me feel the way you did.
hidingnthelight: How did I make you feel?
medrul: Like I wasn't crazy. Like what I did had value. Like...like I could do anything.
medrul: I got addicted to it. Got used to it. Got so I needed it. Then she was gone...and I didn't think I could make it...and then you were gone...and I knew I couldn't.
hidingnthelight: Jesus Mulder, I'm sorry.
medrul: Did you know? I mean, didn't you know what leaving me like that...what *not* being what I thought you were...what it would do to me?
hidingnthelight: No.
hidingnthelight: I knew I'd gotten too close. You were more to me than you should have been. How you felt about me...I didn't know.
medrul: I wanted to die. Nothing mattered. I'd come up with dead ends trying to find her, and you...I knew you were gone. Just gone.
medrul: I couldn't let anything matter. It hurt too much. I took cases I knew could, and most probably would, get me killed. I don't remember sleeping. How I survived? Fuck if I know. Spooky luck, I guess.
hidingnthelight: I thought it was all for her. Sometimes...I couldn't help myself. My time with you was supposed to be over. They said it was over. But sometimes...I just wanted to see you...needed to see you...so I'd watch you. All that pain you were in. Over losing her...
medrul: I still had hope that I'd get her back. I knew you were gone.
medrul: It worked, though. Whether it was your idea or theirs. Your betrayal took away the focus and the drive I needed to find her. Worked like a charm.
hidingnthelight: I couldn't stand to see you that way. I told you a couple weeks ago that that's one of the things...one of those integral things about you that I...love. That drive. It made me sick to my stomach to see that light go out. So I brought you back your light.
hidingnthelight: I brought her back, Mulder. And I'm so fucking sorry they did what they did. I was just an errand boy then. Just a pawn. I didn't know what they would do... God, I'm sorry.
medrul: It was you? I always wondered...I mean, it didn't make sense that they would give her back...
hidingnthelight: I knew losing her was the cause of your pain. I didn't know part of it was me.
medrul: Getting her back...it did give me back my hope. Life wasn't all just a dark hell after all. I could have a little happiness. Maybe I deserved a little, after all.
hidingnthelight: What would make you happy now?
medrul: I don't know anymore. I don't let myself think about it.
hidingnthelight: I seem to remember something about...
hidingnthelight: "I want to know that you'll be here, still loving me, today, tomorrow, the next day...I want you to never leave. I want you to put as much energy into loving me as you've put into hurting me. I want you. All of you. All the time. Whenever I want. I don't want you to ever, ever disappear again."
hidingnthelight: Would that make you happy?
medrul: We don't live in a perfect world.
hidingnthelight: No we don't. But it's what I want, too. I want to give you that. You deserve all of it.
medrul: Alex, I don't need your promises. I was so drunk when I wrote that. I know you can't promise. I just need...
medrul: Please...please just one promise. You'll never lie to me again.
hidingnthelight: I won't ever lie to you again. I promise you.
medrul: I don't trust anyone, you know. Sometimes not even Scully. I want so much to trust you...so much it scares the shit out of me.
hidingnthelight: I know that can only come with time. But...do you think we can work with what we have now? Can we at least allow the feelings we have for one another? Can *you* do that?
medrul: It's not about allowing. I can't do anything about the way I feel about you. I never could.
medrul: I'll feel this way whether you promise or not. Whether you lie or not. But it will destroy me. You just need to know that.
hidingnthelight: I'm still not sure *how* you feel about me, Mulder.
medrul: You're the one person...I could never shut out. Each time I'd think I didn't care...that you couldn't hurt me anymore...I'd find out differently. I'd see you. And it would all come back. All the pain and need and...
medrul: Other people have fucked me over. Hell, it's a daily thing these days. But when it's you...I just go crazy. I can't stand to be hurt by you.
hidingnthelight: We'll hurt each other again, Mulder. There's no way around it. But it won't be on purpose. And it won't be anything like before. I won't let it.
medrul: What do you want, Alex? I mean really...
hidingnthelight: I want to be with you. Not against you. Just with you.
medrul: God, I want that, too.
hidingnthelight: Jesus, do you know what it does to me to see you say that finally? Mulder, you fucking ass... Fuck, I love you.
hidingnthelight: Do you know what I see? When I see us?
hidingnthelight: You'll probably laugh. It may sound silly to you...
medrul: It would be nice to laugh right about now. I've been crying for about a half hour straight and I think I might have to throw up.
hidingnthelight: Well, then you may not laugh; this may make you sick. Mulder, I see breakfast.
medrul: Breakfast?
hidingnthelight: Yeah. Breakfast. You ever wake up with someone, make love, then get hungry and make breakfast together? Because I haven't. And God help me, that's all I can think about.
medrul: I haven't either. You cook, Krycek?
hidingnthelight: Not often. There's no one to eat it.
medrul: I have Eggo's...
hidingnthelight: LOL!! It's a start, Mulder. I'd love to fix Eggo's with you.
medrul: Can we start with some 7- up, first?
medrul: And pick me up some Tylenol on your way over, too.
hidingnthelight: Will do. :-)
medrul: I think you fucked up my lock...door won't stay shut...so it'll be open.
hidingnthelight: I'll be right there. Are you sure you're ready to...do this?
medrul: Please don't ask me that. Just get your ass over here. And don't forget the Tylenol.
hidingnthelight: Extra strength.
medrul: God, yeah.
hidingnthelight signed off at 6:24:45 PM.
I've got the Tylenol and the 7-Up. I've also got ice, Kleenex, multi-vitamins, wash cloths, Pepto Bismol, Campbell's chicken and stars, Saltines, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", and a brand new copy of The Cowboy Junkies' "Trinity Sessions".
And I've got my heart in my throat.
I step off the elevator, Mulder's elevator in Mulder's building, with my hands too busy holding grocery bags to defend myself if this is all his version of get-that-rat-bastard-back-but-good. I don't want to think he's even capable of that. He said to me that he never pegged me as cruel. I feel the same about him. He may still be angry with me, maybe even still hate me a little, but he's a good man. He's just hurting. I'm ready to stop being the cause of that pain.
I stand in front of his door. Shit, he meant it. It's completely ajar. I hope he has a tool set. No way I'm letting him sleep another night with his fucking door wide open. I tap at it with my foot slightly and it swings slowly inward. Now *I'm* the one that feels nauseous. I peer into his foyer. The lights are off and the sun is setting through his west-facing windows. A beam of orange-gold light slants across his reclining form on the couch. I step inside and he opens tired eyes to look at me. There's a ghost of an ironic smile on his face.
"Honey, I'm home," he calls weakly and immediately coughs. Probably hasn't actually spoken in hours. He looks haggard in his light blue, wrinkled t-shirt and blue jeans that he probably swiped out of the dirty clothes. He's got an 8 o'clock shadow. He's gorgeous.
"That's a damn lot of Tylenol you got there," he observes in characteristic monotone, eyeing my two bags. "The more the merrier." Then he tries to sit up and cringes, eyes shutting against what I'm sure is a killer headache. I vacillate between going to him and letting him get used to my presence slowly. I choose the latter and take my bags to the kitchen.
I take one can of 7-Up from the six pack and put the rest in the fridge. Then I rip open one column of Saltines and spill three Tylenol into my hand and carry it all back into the living room. He didn't succeed in sitting up all the way. He's leaned diagonally back on the cushions with his long legs stretched lazily out before him. I don't have a lot of room. I don't know if he's okay with me sitting with him anyway. I decide to treat him like a feral cat or a wild boar or something. I walk cautiously, pretending that I'm trying not to spill his drink, but really I'm biding my time.
I crouch on the floor next to his hips and the old boards creak loudly. I cast my eyes quickly up to his and down again, scared to look too long. I can't tell what he's thinking. I make a project of laying the Saltines on his coffee table behind me and I ask, not looking at him, "Do you have any straws, Mulder?"
He clears his throat. "No. Sorry."
I pop the can open and hear it fizz invitingly. I turn to him, holding his medicine and his soda. From this angle, squatting on my heels, I'm actually almost looking up at him. He's staring at me with hooded eyes, his chin sort of resting on his chest. I look down at his hand on the couch. It's probably about three inches from my hip. I can already feel it touching me, even though he's made no move to do so. As I watch his hand, I see his fingers twitch.
I look up to his face again and his lips barely quirk up in something like a self-deprecating smile. And it's just for a moment. Then it's gone.
I gesture that he should take the pills from me. He holds out the other hand, leaving the one that's so close to me. I drop the little red and yellow geltabs into his palm without touching him and he throws them back into his mouth. I gulp and lean forward, bracing with my legs against the front of the couch. I reach with a hand that hardly trembles and curl my fingers around the back of his head, leaning him forward gently, and with my other hand, I guide the 7-Up to his lips. His eyelids drop over his eyes as he takes four healthy gulps, welcoming the soothing stuff, thirstier than he'd thought I'm sure. I resist the urge to curl my fingers in his hair and pet him. I take the can away when he makes a sound that he's done and I reluctantly lean back onto my heels, leaving him to lie back into the cushions once more.
"Thanks," he mutters and closes his eyes.
He actually closes his eyes. Voluntarily. With me in the room. I stare at him, awe-struck. He must feel me looking, because he opens one eye.
"What?" he asks.
"Nothing," I say and look away, putting the 7-Up on his coffee table. There's no coaster and there are plenty of water mark rings where he's put down drinks in the past. "Do you think you can eat yet?" I ask.
"Mmm," he hums, eyes once again closed. "Not sure. Maybe later?"
"Okay. I have soup when you're ready. Just let me know."
I'm not really sure what to do now. Go sit in the only chair in the room, pick up a dirty pin-up girl magazine and read? Squeeze my ass into the foot of space he's left me on the couch and channel surf? An ache is registering in my knees when he speaks. I thought he was going to sleep. His eyes are still shut.
"I found it," he says.
"Found what, Mulder?" My brows are drawn down.
"Your note," he sighs. There are two seconds when I think he's going to blow it off. And then he opens his eyes, deep, pained, soulful eyes, and looks deep into mine.
"Oh," I say. Unable to say any more. And then he floors me.
"'Mulder. I'm leaving because I think that's what you'd want. It's not what I want. I'll be waiting to hear from you. Just tell me what you want. I love you. Thank you for last night. Alex.'"
Dear God, he memorized it. And recited it back to me, never once looking away from my eyes. His voice changed on the 'I love you.' Got thicker with emotion. Even though they were my words, not his. I feel tears sting the backs of my eyes and throat. He smiles that same slightly unhappy smile at me and nods to the end of the coffee table.
I look and there's my note, sitting quietly.
I close my eyes and breathe uneasily. His fingertips barely reach out and touch one of my belt loops and then retreat. I look down at his large, graceful hand, remembering how he clutched at my back, clumsy with alcohol and lust, remembering the tingling in my scalp when he gripped my hair and came. Then I look at him and his eyes are misted over with tears he's not going to let fall. One vulnerability at a time. That's all he can stand. I want to hold him close and let him cry. It hurts my heart that I can't do that yet. I need it as bad as he does.
"I meant it," I say around the tightness in my chest. It comes out as more of a whisper. "All of it."
"I didn't want...for you to leave, but...it's good you did, Alex," he finishes sadly.
I nod. Knowing he's right. It would have ended ugly. The morning and the dawning realization would have been too much for him. Better that we had it out over our computers. I can imagine the bruises I would have walked away with. If I'd been that lucky. I continue to nod as one telling tear rolls out of my eye and down my cheek.
His hand reaches up hesitantly, but the ache of distrust and fear wins out and he drops it back down. I catch it before it lands back on the couch and bring the warmth of his palm to my face. I close my eyes on the feel of his soft skin barely touching the corner of my mouth, of his thumb against my eyelashes. Another tear rolls out of my eye and follows the line of his hand down to my mouth. I taste the salt of it, hear his shuddering breath, and allow the breath I'm holding to release. I hold his hand to my face for a moment and then turn my head and seek out his wrist with my lips, placing the most tender of kisses there, terrified I'll scare him. I breathe against the moist place I made before I put his hand back down on the couch and stand up over him.
"Go to sleep, Mulder. I'll fix you some soup when you wake up."
He nods slowly, and I watch him swallow. I lean over and drape his afghan over his body as he slides back down to reclining. He huddles under it like a child, only his head and his bare toes showing. I'm about to turn away to tidy up his place when his small voice stops me.
"Thank you."
"Sure," I say. "It's just some Tylenol. It's no problem, Mulder."
"No," he whispers hoarsely. "For last night."
I stand over him, only wanting to lay myself down on top of him, smothering him with deep, loving kisses. Instead I whisper, "You're welcome." And because I don't trust my voice or my actions now, I walk away.
He sleeps through my fumbling in his utility closet looking for and then finding enough tools to fix his door. I try to do it quietly, but I can't help but make noise as I twist screws into place and still he doesn't wake. He must not be sleeping lately. I guess it's no wonder.
I finish and close the door with a final >snick<. I dust my hands off and put his tools back in his over-flowing closet. I go into the kitchen to wash the dirt from under my nails and while I've got the cool water running, I wet a wash cloth for his head.
I take it in to him and gently lay it across his sleep-furrowed brow. He mumbles nonsense, opens his eyes for a moment to see me over him, worried that I've awakened him, then shuts them again, smacking his lips and sighing.
"'Sgood," he mutters.
I smile, knowing he can't see it. I let the backs of my fingers stroke lightly over his cheek and jaw. "You're beautiful," I whisper so he can't hear me.
"Hmm?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows over his closed eyes.
"You ready for soup, Mulder?" I ask taking my hand away, not wanting to push it.
He opens one eye at me again. "We'll never know unless we try." He smiles slightly then opens his other eye and looks down at my hand that was on his face and is now hanging useless at my side, then he looks back up into my eyes.
"Chicken and stars?" I ask with what I hope is a warm smile on my face.
"Yeesh. Uh, yeah. That sounds...as good as it possibly can," he says and my smile widens.
"Sit tight," I tell him. "It'll be a few minutes."
He sighs and settles back under his covers and on a whim I go to the shopping bags and pull out the CD. I have the usual trouble opening it. I can shoot a man in the middle of the forehead at 100 yards but I can't get a small piece of sticky plastic off a CD. After a few choice, whispered cuss words and a yelled, "What?" from Mulder, I get it unwrapped and bring it back out into the living room.
I find Mulder's CD player and turn it on, opening the lid and placing the CD inside.
"What are you doing?" he asks, turning on his side on the couch, adjusting his cool cloth accordingly.
"Soup music," I explain.
I skip ahead to "Blue Moon Revisited" and spare him a quick glance on the way back to the kitchen. He watches me walk, eyes still hooded, making me crazy wondering what's going on in his head.
I find that as I warm his soup over the burner, I've been smiling to myself. I don't know if it's having my favorite CD back in my possession, or the fact that he's letting me take care of him for the time being or just being in his space, touching his things...just knowing he's in the next room...and the tantalizing smell of soup... It's all of it. I feel like I'm in a dream I don't want to wake from.
I pour a generous helping into a bowl, grabbing a spoon and another 7-Up and take them to the coffee table. He's sitting up when I get there.
"Better?" I ask, maybe a little disappointed.
"Smells good," he says, stretching.
I'm momentarily captivated by his muscled arms reaching taut over his head. I'm in love with his body. I thought he'd always known it and kind of lorded it over me, was arrogant because of it. I guess it was all in my mind. All I've ever known is that I can't look at him too long without getting hard. That thought in mind, I avert my eyes.
He leans forward and picks up his soup and spoons some, blowing on it gingerly. Those lips. Jesus Christ. I can't just sit with him and watch him eat. I'll go insane. And I can't stand here watching.
"Taste all right?" I ask when he slurps at it. I'm feeling ridiculous, suddenly.
"Mmm. Yeah," he states when he's swallowed.
"Well, I uh...noticed a spill over on the floor near the kitchen table. Think I'll clean that up, if it's okay with you."
He looks down sheepishly. "You don't have to do that, Alex."
"I know," I tell him. Then softly, "I want to."
He nods and continues to eat, but I catch him peek up at me as I turn to get some damp paper towels from the kitchen. I return and kneel on the floor to wipe up what appears to be a damn lot of beer. I scrub at it for several moments, trying to give him space to eat in peace before I realize it's going to take major cleaning fluid. I turn on my hands and knees to ask him if he has any and see him staring at me. At my ass. His spoon is halfway to his mouth, dripping chicken broth onto the floor and his eyes are glued on my posterior.
I can't help the pleased smile that creeps onto my face. I turn my head back around and continue to scrub. What does he see when he's *looking* at me like that? Does he like seeing my back muscles work under the white t-shirt? Like how tight my jeans fit? He likes something. And I really, really like that I got to see how much.
I scrub futilely at the sticky wood floor, peeking back at him from time to time under my arm to check that he's still staring. He is. He never stops. I think I, Alex Krycek, am blushing.
I work until my paper towels are in pathetic shreds before I turn my head again and speak up. The minute I do, Mulder drops his spoon into the bowl with a clang and a plop, spilling soup on his afghan.
"Do you have any Fantastik or 409 or something, Mulder? This stuff isn't going anywhere." I keep the proud smile from my face as he struggles to look anywhere but at my ass.
"Uh...there should be some, uh, Windex under the sink. The kitchen sink."
I sit back on my heels and heft myself up, looking back at him with a smirk. "Thanks."
The Windex takes care of the mess quickly and I go to check on Mulder. He only ate a few bites of the soup and its remains are cooling on the coffee table. He's back under his blanket, lying down on his back.
"Mulder, it's late. Wouldn't you be more comfortable in your bed?" I ask.
He just stares at me and damn it, I really wish I knew what that stare meant. I wish I knew what he thought of all this. I take a careful few steps forward toward him. His eyes lift as I near and stand over him. I tilt my head and look down into his...brown eyes.
"Alex?" he asks.
"Yes, Mulder?"
He looks down and away from me, unable to continue. I decide maybe he needs some sign from me, needs me to make it okay to ask what I'm only guessing -- hoping and praying -- is on his mind.
I reach down and pull the blanket from beneath his chin and fling it down off his torso where it lands in a pile at his waist. I kneel down and he watches me move, almost holding his breath. I lay my hand flat over his chest, right over his heart and watch him inhale deeply, his chest and my hand both rising with it. I move my hand in slow, massaging circles, manipulating the hot flesh beneath it, at the same time raising my other hand to his face again. I lay my palm against his jaw and stroke my thumb over his beautiful lips.
I ask again, looking into amber brown irises, "Yes, Mulder?"
It's almost not even a whisper. "Stay."
I feel the sting of tears once more, becoming so familiar now and so connected to loving this man, so I close my eyes and lean in close to him and whisper close to his mouth, "As long as you'll have me."
I feel his shuddering breath against my lips and teeth. I want to kiss him. But I don't want to frighten him. Instead I lay my forehead against his and tell him, "I didn't want to expect it."
"I know."
We talk with our eyes closed, our breathing more erratic, our bodies ahead of our minds seeking the ultimate solace. The intimacy, the connection, the cleansing heat of sex. I feel myself begin to go erect and my fingers tighten on his chest, squeezing at his pectoral muscle. I lean my lips even closer to his so they brush as I speak.
"Come with me."
He leans up to try to seal our mouths together, but I lean away, taking his hand in mine. He looks unsure.
"Just come with me," I say, eyes asking his to understand. To know that what I offer isn't just sex. It's everything he wants and is so scared to need from me.
I help him to stand up and he sways slightly. I put my arm around his back, under his arm, my other bracing against his chest again. "You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah."
I can't help reaching up to calm his riotous hair, sweeping it off his face and his hand creeps experimentally behind my back and rests lightly on my shoulder.
"Let's get you to bed," I say.
I hold his hand as I lead him back to the bedroom. I'm holding his hand. I want to squeal like a love-struck school girl. He follows, shuffling behind me, and I push on his shoulders to gently coax him onto the edge of the bed. I take ahold of the hem of his t-shirt and he lifts his arms for me as I strip it off over his head. I tame his hair down again, already addicted to doing it. He smiles.
Smiles.
Stunning.
"Lie back," I instruct him, and he does. I help him pull the covers back. "Wait, Mulder, do you want to take a bath?"
"Do *you* want me to?" he asks, still smiling.
"No, Mulder, you smell fine," I assure him.
I hesitate before reaching for his fly. I don't want him to think I expect a repeat of last night. He must see my hesitation because he comes to my rescue.
"Alex, I'm so drained. Would you mind helping me with these?" He's already unbuttoning as he speaks.
I harden to the point of pain watching him. But I just nod and try to be as efficient and nonprovocative as possible, stripping the denim down his legs with a minimum amount of lingering touch.
He's wearing boxers that say, "Eat My Shorts" all over them. He shrugs and I chuckle and lay his jeans and t-shirt over the back of a chair and, without consultation, begin undressing. I can almost hear the air change around us as I feel him watching me. Off goes my shirt and I hear the bedclothes rustle slightly behind me. I take off my boots, my socks, and peel off my jeans. I turn to see his eyes once again hooded; I can see that he's partially aroused. I wish I didn't have to show him the sizable tent I've made in my own plain, navy blue shorts, but there's no way around it as I crawl up onto the bed next to him and lie on my side. He looks down at my erection.
"I'm sorry," I say.
He looks back up at my face. "It's all right."
I pull the covers up over us and scoot in toward him. My eyes never leave his as I wrap my arms around him, one pillowing his head, the other around his body, over his arm which in turn wraps around me. I move in to where our hips are aligned, twining our legs like lovers. He can feel my erection and I can feel his, but I don't move against him. I just let him feel me...be aware of me. I bask in his warmth and sigh as we both settle in together.
Our lips are once again close as I ask, "This okay?"
"Yeah, Alex. It is. But..."
"But?" I squeeze the hand that's on his back, pulling him closer, wanting him as close as possible.
"I thought maybe you'd be kissing me by now."
I smile and look down at his lips in the moonlight. "You sure?" I ask.
He doesn't answer. He just closes the distance and captures my lips with his. His plump bottom lip is between mine and we just stay like that for several moments, experiencing a kiss we've never allowed ourselves or each other. I move my lips on his slightly, opening and then closing again, hearing the moist sounds as we resituate in this gentle caress. It's not a deep kiss. It's not fraught with mindless passion. It's careful, like stepping into too hot water, knowing you'll adjust and relax, but needing the slow progression. I test him -- touch my tongue to his bottom lip for a moment and then retreat. He tests me -- moaning deep in his throat. I push against his lower back and arch into him. He trails silken fingertips up my spine.
I shiver and gasp, my lips parting from his on it.
I stroke my hand up his back and curl my fingers in his hair at the back of his head like I'd wanted so badly to do before. I slip my leg from between his and slide it over his hip, and he closes his hand around the back of my leg, holding me there and snuggling his pelvis deep into mine, slow and sensuous, so our cocks nestle warm against each other. He grunts softly.
I kiss him again once, open-mouthed now, but not urgent. "You're so beautiful," I tell him and he squeezes my thigh.
I stroke his face with my hand and look from one of his sleepy, shiny eyes to the other. I feel my throat close with emotion. I still the hand on my leg, as he's started squeezing rhythmically and thrusting lazily against me.
"I want you," I whisper to him fiercely. "So much."
"But?" he asks and that out-of-breath-with-arousal voice just almost does me in. I have to close my eyes on it.
"Not tonight, Mulder. Too much has happened. You need to know, without a doubt, that this love is real."
"That you don't just want my bod?" I can hear that he's smiling at me, and he gives one last teasing thrust for punctuation. I put my hand against his chest.
"I mean it."
He sighs and I open my eyes and look at him. "I know." We look at each other, bodies wrapped around one another, closer than even in my dreams. "I know," he repeats. "And you're right. We still have so much... So much, Alex..."
I know what he's saying. We're not yet okay. We have more baggage than any couple in the history of romance. But I can't help the little light of joy blooming in my chest that he even wants to try.
"You're so beautiful," I repeat because it's all I know right now. I can't help crying again now. I'm completely overwhelmed that I'm here. In his arms. And as though I have no choice in the matter, my mouth is again gravitating toward his and we're kissing. Our tongues touch and circle, investigating, not fighting, and I let myself moan into his mouth and he gives me an answering hug of encouragement. Every so often our lips part and once when they do he breathes my name.
"Are you happy?" I can't help asking.
"Just keep kissing me, dammit," is his answer.
So I do.
End, Chapter Three.
Chapter Four
hidingnthelight: Hi, Mulder.
medrul: Hi.
hidingnthelight: I'm glad you're here. I missed you.
medrul: Well, yeah...so, where were you?
hidingnthelight: I told you. I had an appointment.
medrul: Um...Alex, this is probably a good time to talk about how this is going to work...
medrul: I mean...I'm worried, you know? Shit, Alex...what you do for a living? What I do? This is insane!
hidingnthelight: Do we have to talk about this now? Can't we just...be together? Meet for dinner? I'll buy.
medrul: Yes we *do* have to talk about this now. Do you know the kind of shit that's been going through my head all morning?
hidingnthelight: No, I guess I don't.
medrul: Well, Alex...knowing what you do for a living...well, what the hell do you *think* I'm gonna be thinking you're doing?
hidingnthelight: Well...it's not that. Not work. Let's not talk about this, Mulder. I don't wanna do this.
medrul: Alex, it feels like you're keeping things from me. And I'm just wondering why you're being so evasive.
hidingnthelight: Some things I'm not ready to talk about. Not with you. Not yet.
medrul: How can we have this...whatever this is...if you're going to keep secrets like this from me? You have to know that keeping secrets from me is the best way to lose my trust.
hidingnthelight: Dammit, Mulder. You're so bull-headed...
medrul: I want this to work. Don't you? Doesn't seem like it...
hidingnthelight: I care about you, Mulder. I don't want you thinking I can't keep my one promise to you. I don't ever want to lie to you again. But there are things that are going to be hard for me to confide in you about...
medrul: Are you in trouble, Alex? I mean...more than usual? Because you don't really look well. I mean...
hidingnthelight: Thanks.
medrul: That's not what I mean. Alex...the way you look takes my breath away. I just mean...you don't look like you're doing very well. I've never seen you like this. Maybe you need help...
hidingnthelight: You don't think I know that? Fine, I'll tell you. I'm seeing a therapist. I'm seeing a fucking shrink, all right? You happy now?
medrul: Actually? Yeah, I am! Why the hell couldn't you have just told me that, Alex? Why did you put us through this?
hidingnthelight: I'm...I'm not *supposed* to need this. You get me? I'm not used to this shit. I'm not used to... This isn't supposed to happen to *me*.
medrul: What, Alex? You're not used to needing someone's help? You just used to being perfect, then? Jesus, with the life you must lead...it's only normal that you'd need help. Fuck, you wouldn't be human if you didn't.
medrul: What's going on with you, Alex? Why are you seeing a therapist?
hidingnthelight: I've been having some trouble lately. I'm dealing with it. Let's just drop it.
medrul: Alex...if you want me to care about you...this is part of it.
hidingnthelight: Do you? Care about me?
medrul: Do you really have to ask that?
hidingnthelight: Yeah, I really do.
medrul: Alex, I wouldn't be here if...I mean, things have changed and...
medrul: I'm sorry. This is...hard. I just don't do this.
hidingnthelight: I know. I don't want to push. This isn't going to be easy for any number of reasons. But...I want to try. For you.
hidingnthelight: My...issues...have to do with what happened to me while we were in Hong Kong. And what happened when I got back.
medrul: The black oil.
hidingnthelight: You knew, Mulder? That I'd been infected?
medrul: Yeah. Not until after the fact...after you disappeared, but yeah, I figured it out.
hidingnthelight: I don't see how my telling you about this now does anything. I just...I don't want to.
medrul: Alex, I don't want to push *you*, either, but our problems aren't going to go away just because you're a fucking incredible kisser and make a mean chicken and stars. We're going to have to deal with this sooner or later.
hidingnthelight: Could you just say that again? The part about the kissing?
medrul: LOL...yeah, Alex. Your kisses make my brain short-circuit. I've dreamed about them for so long...and reality is even better.
hidingnthelight: That...feels really good. :-) And I know this isn't going away. I really know. I promise to make the effort. To let you in.
medrul: Me too.
hidingnthelight: Mulder, I'm sorry I'm not ready to get into this yet. Please know, it's not because I don't love you. I do. I love you so much.
medrul: Alex...how can you just...say it? I mean, I can't imagine just telling someone something like that... That's courage. I dunno. I guess I'm a coward.
hidingnthelight: Do you mean...when I tell you I love you, Mulder?
medrul: Yeah. Yeah, Alex, when you do that.
hidingnthelight: I guess I can't imagine *not* saying it. All the time I spent keeping it to myself... It was worse than the black oil. It became not really a choice to keep it to myself any more. I don't see it as particularly courageous. I'm floored that you do.
medrul: It's the most courageous thing I've ever seen, honestly.
hidingnthelight: Damn, Mulder. Why couldn't you have said that when we were together so I could have kissed the living fuck out of you?
medrul: I think you did, Alex. Like I said, I'm a coward. Alex...I can barely stand to be next to you...I just...I can't talk.
hidingnthelight: Just...try to be next to me, will you? Things will go much more smoothly if we can be in the same room with each other while trying to have a relationship. ;o
medrul: I want to be next to you. I don't want to *stop* being next to you. I just...I can't tell you things like this face to face. I think...I think we need this. IM.
medrul: Well, I need it.
hidingnthelight: Okay. Whatever you need.
medrul: I'm sorry. I've hurt you and I don't want to do that anymore. I can promise this...I'll try.
hidingnthelight: You haven't hurt me. If you could see the ridiculous smile on my face, you'd know that. Mulder, I never thought I'd get one tenth of what you've given me now.
medrul: I didn't think I'd get a second chance.
hidingnthelight: What do you mean?
medrul: I always wondered...if I'd told you the things I was feeling...would you still have done that to me? Stupid, because I know I couldn't have ever done that, but...it's always haunted me.
medrul: I always thought that was part of the job. Make me...fall for you or something.
hidingnthelight: I can't tell you what I would have done. I thought they owned me. But whatever I would have done, Mulder, I would have ached to tell you that I felt the same.
medrul: Alex...I have to tell you this, because I think we need to try to be as open as possible...I'm scared that you're just...doing it all over again.
hidingnthelight: Doing what?
medrul: Making me want you...and trust you...so that you can turn on me later.
hidingnthelight: Oh Jesus... Mulder, I've hurt you so much. I hate that I've done this to you. I know you won't be able to believe it until it's proven more times than anybody will care to count, but I'm not leaving you. I...I'm not the same person who did that to you. I could never do that to you again.
hidingnthelight: If I do, you have my permission to kill me.
medrul: Alex, it's not that simple. Killing you wouldn't change the way I feel about you. I'd probably kill myself.
hidingnthelight: Then you're stuck with me.
hidingnthelight: Because I can't be responsible for a world without Fox Mulder.
hidingnthelight: And I love him. Desperately.
medrul: God, Alex...
medrul: I want to believe it...all of it...and that's what's so damned scary. Alex...who are you working for? I think I need to know.
hidingnthelight: Who am I working for. Good question. I guess you could say I'm...transitional.
medrul: Transitional.
hidingnthelight: I'm currently somewhat self-employed.
medrul: You're in Amway? ;-)
hidingnthelight: Mary Kay. Actually.
medrul: Oh my God...Alex...I knew it was bad, but...
hidingnthelight: Okay, you want the low down?
medrul: Yeah.
hidingnthelight: Blush Beautiful #5 is identical to Blush Radiant #7.
medrul: You asshole. ;-)
hidingnthelight: Sorry. Okay...
medrul: Wait...
medrul: Alex, it's just so amazing to see you like this. I just want you to know that. I never imagined you had it in you.
hidingnthelight: I never imagined you had it in you to be *in* me.
hidingnthelight: Fuck, now I want you.
medrul: Is this getting dirty? I think this just got dirty...
hidingnthelight: Back to the issue at hand...(and don't think I don't want to make an off-color remark just to prolong flirting with you.)...
medrul: I can tell you what issue's at *my* hand, but yeah...I really do need to know, I think.
hidingnthelight: I'm not sure if it's at all wise to tell you what my work is now. The last thing I want to do is endanger you and get you killed when I *just* got you to sleep with me.
medrul: LOL
hidingnthelight: You have to promise not to breathe a word to anyone. Not even Scully. How is she, by the way?
medrul: I don't think that's a good subject. Not yet.
hidingnthelight: I'm sorry. That was thoughtless. I really admire and respect her, you know. I mean, she's kept you alive and out of prison this long...
medrul: Jesus, Alex. Listen, we have reason to believe...*you* were implicated by Louis Cardinale when we apprehended him.
medrul: He said you're behind Melissa's murder.
hidingnthelight: You believe that lying sack of shit?
hidingnthelight: Don't answer that. Okay, listen...
hidingnthelight: I was contracted for a hit on Scully. Cardinale was my partner, and truly Mulder, just thinking his name makes me want to vomit...
medrul: You do know he's dead now, don't you?
hidingnthelight: I'd spit on his grave if he had one.
hidingnthelight: I was going to kill him that night, Mulder. Not Scully. Certainly not her sister. Cardinale.
hidingnthelight: I had a flawless plan. I really did.
hidingnthelight: Scully puts her key in the lock. Cardinale levels his gun. I level my gun at him, silencer in place. I make the kill shot. I then turn it on Scully who's now standing in the door, mouth open, and at gun point make her make secure plans for me to leave the country unharmed and unawares...
hidingnthelight: If I could bring Melissa back for Scully, I would.
medrul: We know he was the shooter. That's all we know. The only 'evidence' we have on you is Cardinale's word. And he's dead.
hidingnthelight: May that pig fucker burn in hell.
medrul: Um, yeah.
medrul: Okay, well, hmmm...shit, this is so fucking awkward...I can't just say that I believe you outright, Alex. But I don't believe Cardinale, either.
hidingnthelight: It's okay. I know you can't.
medrul: Alex...how 'together' are we going to be?
hidingnthelight: It had to come around to this, didn't it?
hidingnthelight: Baby, if it were up to me...as together as we could get.
hidingnthelight: But I'm kind of...sought after. And not in a good way.
medrul: LOL...sorry. I just had visions of me fighting off all these cute guys, protecting your honor.
hidingnthelight: I'd like to see that, actually.
hidingnthelight: Before I make an ass of myself, Mulder...
hidingnthelight: Are we talking about...living together?
medrul: We're talking about all of it. But...I was more referring to work, I guess. When I said I wanted to be with you, not against you, I was talking about that, too. I guess...I assumed you were, too.
hidingnthelight: So just call me Jack Ass. Sorry. Okay...
medrul: I kinda prefer rat-bastard, if it's all the same to you. Or Sparkie.
hidingnthelight: Sparkie???
hidingnthelight: Do you *want* me to kick your ass?
medrul: I'd like to see you try, Sparkie.
hidingnthelight: Yeah, you've never seen me try, have you, Fox?
medrul: No. No, I haven't.
hidingnthelight: And you won't.
medrul: Well, if you ever did, I know your soft spot now. I'd just throw you down and kiss you until you passed out.
hidingnthelight: Speaking of...
hidingnthelight: Mulder, can the work talk wait for a while? Not long, I promise. I just...don't know if I'm up for it just yet, and what I *really* want to do is take you out to dinner.
medrul: I guess a date probably would be a good idea to fit in there somewhere, with all this.
hidingnthelight: Do you like French, Mulder? Food that is?medrul: French is good. French is very nice. I like French.
hidingnthelight: Yeah, Foxy. I know you do. Maybe you'd like to skip dinner then? And go right to what we both want.
medrul: Hey now...you're fighting dirty over there, Sparkie. Don't make me kick your ass.
hidingnthelight: You're going to kick it? Is that all?
medrul: I never said *that*.
hidingnthelight: Mmmm baby, tell me more.
medrul: Well, I'd have to beat you into submission first, then gag that delicious mouth of yours so you couldn't call me 'baby' and 'foxy' anymore...
medrul: ...then when you'd stopped...resisting (snicker), I'd lay you down on the bed and show you what three years of watching porn tapes has taught *me* about curing insomnia.
medrul: Alex? Hey, I was only kidding about the beating part...Jesus, yeah, Mulder, that's real fuckin' funny coming from you. Alex. I don't ever want to hit you again. Not even in play.
hidingnthelight: Not even if I want you to? ;-)
medrul: No.
medrul: You know what I *really* want, Alex? I want touch you all over...just feel you...and kiss you...and feel your hands on me...and feel your lips on me...and never stop. I just want to touch you. I can't get enough touching you.
hidingnthelight: God, baby, that's what I want, too. Last night...every time you touched me, even the smallest thing...every movement against me...I couldn't believe it was happening. Mulder, what are we still doing here? I'm hungry. And not just for food.
medrul: Where are you? Can you tell me that?
hidingnthelight: I'm home. Yes, I do have one.
medrul: Is it...nearby?
hidingnthelight: Yes.
medrul: You've been here the whole time...so close...
hidingnthelight: I...wanted something close to you.
hidingnthelight: Mulder, I want to show it to you. Maybe tonight. We have to be careful, of course, but it's certainly safer than being together at your place.
medrul: Yeah, I guess it would be. You're really going to show me your place? I never thought...Jesus, this is real, isn't it?
hidingnthelight: Yeah. It is. Fucking boggles my mind, too, honey.
medrul: LOL...you're into terms of endearment, too. Will wonders never cease?
hidingnthelight: I'm in love. Bite me.
medrul: Mmmmmm...only if I get to pick where.
hidingnthelight: And I get to pick when. Le Chateau de Colbert. Do you know it? 8 o'clock. Dress like you want me to eat you for dessert.
hidingnthelight: Reservations under Drake. I'll be waiting. And take a cab, Mulder.
medrul: Drake, huh? All this time and all I had to do to get your alias was sleep with you. Who knew? I'll see you then, Alex.
hidingnthelight: You think there's just one, Fox? ;-) I can't wait.
medrul: Well, I'll just have to work on getting every.....last.....one.
hidingnthelight: I count on it.
medrul: Bye, Tall Dark and Beautiful.
medrul signed off at 5:46:27 PM.
I stand in front of my closet for what must be a full five minutes, my navy silk dress shirt in one hand, my black pima cotton in the other. I'm staring at the gray wool. I really have *no* idea what Alex Krycek would prefer to see me in. I really had no idea that he enjoyed seeing me at all until... I still can't understand how he could, but he really seems to be in...well, some serious infatuation, anyway.
Okay, focus, Mulder. Black wool trousers on. Black wool jacket draped over the chair. Just pick a fucking shirt. I sigh, then drop the black one on the bed and start sliding into the navy silk one. It feels the best. Maybe it'll make him want to touch me. I shiver slightly.
God, this is insane. I have pre-date jitters. For a date with Alex Krycek. Or is that Alex Drake? At a French restaurant. I laugh softly. He's a romantic. I cannot believe it, but my Alex is a romantic.
Whoa. My Alex? Where did *that* come from? Well, gee, maybe it was when you shoved your dick into him and mouthed 'mine' into the muscles of the back of his neck as you bit it like a horny alley cat.
These pants are getting tight. Well, actually, it's the snug black briefs I have on under them that are constricting my movement. The pants are loose enough to hide the evidence...for now. But God, if I think about fucking him for even one second longer, nothing will be hidden.
Oh God, too late, too late, the thought of him, pressed against the wall, my naked skin on his...it's getting hard to breathe, now. Hard to think. All blood flow is being redirected. It was better than anything I've ever had, even through all the pain. He's right. It does make me want to cry when I get to touch him. It does feel like things are finally *right.* How did Alex Krycek get to know me so well?
I straighten my tie for the fourteenth time. My bow tie. I'm in a tux. It is my first actual date with Fox Mulder after all. I debated over it for a while, but ultimately decided it was do or die and I want him knowing exactly what this night means to me. So monkey suit it is.
The garcon, I think his gold-plated name tag says Jean-Paul, eyes me again as he passes my table. Perhaps thinking that if my date has stood me up he'd like to be the replacement. It's nice to know *somebody* appreciates the efforts I've gone to with my appearance tonight.
I pull at my cuffs, getting them as close to even as possible, and then check my watch. 7:48. Almost, Alex. Al-fuckin-most. I pull at my cuffs again.
There's a bucket with a bottle of Dom chilling to my right. I'm at a corner table, as I requested of the owner. It's the best table in the house. I can pretty much have it at my whim. I've thrown enough cold, hard cash Colbert's way over the past year. I've given him some *very* good business. It's the least he can do, really. And I want tonight to be perfect.
God, what if he doesn't show? What if he leaves me here looking like an idiot in my tux with my unopened champagne? What if I never see him again?
Or what if he walks through the door in 10 seconds. And he smiles at me. And then casts his eyes down shyly. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.... Damn. Sometimes you're intuitive and sometimes it's wishful thinking.
Shit, what if I see him and get a boner? At least there's a nice, long table cloth, not to mention a napkin already in my lap. But will he expect me to stand up? Kiss him hello? God, no that'd probably have him running for the hills.
I don't have any more time to mull it over though because, fucking Jesus lord, there he is. He came. I chuff a small, amazed laugh under my breath. I watch him open the large door effortlessly and walk up to the maitre 'd. He towers over the man. He looks down at him, all grace and power and sex. God, he's sexy. He's in black with just a hint of blue beneath his jacket. The collar of his shirt is open and I can see some of his honey-dark chest hair in the V it creates. Oh Jesus. Oh sweet Jesus. He's so hot. And I'm getting hard. And he's looking up....
I scan the room while the host picks up his little white napkin and menus. Then my mouth drops open. It actually drops open as I spot him. He's in a tuxedo. He's in a fucking tuxedo. Jesus H. Christ, he's drop-dead stunning. He's standing up now...he's seen me...I can't help but look him over from head to toe...and again...I suppose a third time would really be crass.
And that's allllllllll mine.
Breathe it back, Mulder. Breathe it back. Calm, cool, and collected, that's you. Not nervous, hot, and horny as hell. *Damn* he cleans up good. I can't help but glance around as I'm led to his table in the corner. I'll bet he could have anyone in the place. Male or female. He's tall, hard, and masculine enough to appeal to the women, and beautiful, sensuous, and sexy enough to make any man rethink his own heterosexual proclivities.
And he wants *me*.
He really does. I can tell it by the way he's licking his sweet, pink lips over and over, hands clenching nervously at his sides. I'm happy to see you, too, Alex. I can't help the proud, proprietary smile that slowly curves my lips, first one corner of my mouth and then the other.
We don't say a word to one another as the host seats me and gives us both menus. It's hard enough to talk to him, I can't imagine doing it in front of someone else. Not yet. I swallow hard and fidget a little in my seat, trying to inconspicuously rearrange my hard-on. I take a long drink of ice water, and finally, finally the little French waiter goes away. I look up from my menu, and Alex is looking at me with *that* look. The one that always, always made me forget my own name. That one where he looks up shyly from under his lashes with that hopeful little smile. Makes me want to lunge across the table and shove my tongue down his throat. I wonder what he'd do if I did. I give him what I know must be a very hungry smile instead.
He's smiling. Again. It's like he can't help *but*. I can't believe just seeing me, being with me, is making him this happy. His eyes are golden now! And they're twinkling with life. I look at him sitting across from me, both relaxed and humming with masculine energy. I love how he sits. He leans back in his chair and sticks his legs way out. I can't see his hips, but I know, I just *know* his pelvis is thrust slightly forward in his chair. He's so sexual. He tends to let his dick lead him around. So when he sits, his body language says, "I dare you to look at it...my cock... Acknowledge it." I'm tremendously happy about the table cloth right now. To see it, I'd have to crawl under the table, and I'm pretty sure, VIP status or not, that'd get my horny ass thrown out of here.
My eyes are drawn back to the V of his shirt. It's navy blue silk. It brings out these blue flecks in his eyes. Gold and blue. Phenomenal. And that little tease... That tiny glimpse of chest hair. I wonder if he stood in front of the mirror at home and debated how many buttons. Like a woman displaying cleavage. He *has* to know what he's doing to me. Especially since I haven't said word one to him. I've just been ogling him shamelessly.
I take his cue and take a long, cooling drink of my water before I address him.
"You look...incredible."
"Thanks," he mutters with another small, mischievious smile. "*Not*...as incredible as you, I'm afraid. You're breathtaking, Alex."
Wow. Just...wow. I knew he could be a charmer. I've seen him use it on Scully. But for that gift to be turned on me with such force...
Wow.
"Champagne?" I ask, and he nods so I send a discreet look over to Jean-Paul, who comes right over.
As the cork popping ritual is undergone, I can't help but peek at him once more from under my lashes. He's watching our pretty little waiter work the bottle with efficient, professional skill. There is no sexual interest in Mulder's eyes. Thank God. I'd have to hurt the waiter, and he's one of the better ones here. But when he feels me staring at him and looks back at me, I watch his eyes darken to golden-brown and his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.
This is going to be so intense.
I can feel him staring at me. Like tingles crawling up the back of my neck, tickling down my chest, and settling right between my legs. Oh. That's really uncomfortable. I spread my legs a little wider, trying to look casual while doing it. I flick my eyes back over to Alex, who's trying hard to look like he's *not* staring at me. Was that a spark of jealousy I saw in those wide, dark, green eyes? I wonder who he'd turn that little tinge of violence on if I were to wink at our femme little waiter...him or me? Might be fun to do it just to find out. I narrow my eyes speculatively, looking back at him, imagining how I might calm him down after.
The cork pops out of the bottle and we both jump a little. Then we smile at each other sheepishly and raise our glasses to be filled. As the sparkling clear-gold liquid pours perfectly into my champagne flute, I find myself having altogether unwholesome thoughts about getting Alex out of his gorgeous tuxedo so I can drink Dom from his navel. I lick my lips and nod my thanks to the waiter, and he goes away.
Now it's just him and me. The air feels like it weighs five pounds. It's rather difficult to breathe. One of us is going to have to speak soon. I look over at him and he's staring at his glass, twirling the stem with his thumb and fingers, like he has something he really wants to say. I guess he's feeling as awkward about this as I am. I raise my glass, leveling my gaze at him, hoping he feels the sincerity and seriousness behind it.
"To peace."
"To peace," I answer, somberly, understanding that he's offering something monumental here and letting go of something he's held onto for a long, long time where I'm concerned. I clink our glasses together and then we both sip slowly, still looking at each other.
I put my glass down and so does he. And now here we are. On a date. Holy shit.
"So..." I say brilliantly.
"So..." he answers, his voice hoarse.
"Mulder, thank you for meeting me here. I know this isn't at all easy for you."
"It shows, huh?" he says uneasily.
"No, actually, it doesn't. I just...I know."
He takes another sip of his champagne, this one bigger, and looks at the glass as he sets it down.
"Good?" I ask.
"Yeah, Alex. I've never had champagne this good." He looks up at me. "You come here a lot?"
Something in his eyes makes my heart flip around in my chest. "You want to know if I've brought other men here, Mulder?"
"I didn't say that," he defends himself, smoothing his napkin in his lap.
"You didn't have to," I tell him. He looks uncomfortable now and that's not what I want. "Hey," I say softly and reach out to touch his hand. He inhales sharply and looks up, and I take my hand away. "The answer's no. You're the first."
Okay, now I know I'm blushing. And I can't help grinning, even though I really didn't like being put on the spot like that. And his hand...it almost touched me. I can't believe how terrifying that was. We're in public...two men...I don't even know if this restaurant is gay-friendly. That's part of what I was trying to ask when the little shit picked up on my possessiveness. But I can't touch him in public. I just can't.
I try to tell him I'm sorry with my eyes, because I can see the disappointment in his. Alex, I try to say, when I touch you I just lose myself, whether I'm hitting you or stroking you. I can't afford for anyone to see that. I'm not even sure I can afford for *you* to see it yet. He gives me a sad smile. He really does seem to be able to read me. That scares me, because he's probably always been able to pick up on how I feel about him, even through the violence.
"It's nice," I comment, trying to lighten the tension that just sank down between us like a wet blanket. "Sure can't afford this kind of thing on a G-man's salary," I quip.
I watch his eyes tighten.
"What are you implying?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"What?" he asks, eyes wide. "Nothing, Alex. Nothing."
"Oh," I say, softening. He was just making a joke. And I took it personally. Damn, where'd that sexual tension go? Was fun while it lasted. I sigh and take a healthy drink of bubbly, emptying my glass, then filling it back up before I speak.
"I have money," I start matter-of-factly, linking my fingers and setting my hands on the table in front of me.
The waiter picks that horrendous moment to come over and ask if we're ready to order. I look at him, stopping just short of rolling my eyes, and pin him with a cold stare. He fidgets under my gaze and asks, "Should I give you a few more minutes?"
I give him a condescending smile. "No, we're ready," I say. "He'll have the filet mignon, rare, sauce moutarde, avec les crudites, and I'll have the scallops. Belle meuniere. And the lobster bisque."
The waiter takes our menus, saying, "Very good, sir," before exiting swiftly. I look back at Mulder and he's staring at me, lips parted, tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. I promptly forget what I was talking about.
"What is it?" I ask him.
What is it? Well, where should I start? With the way my sweet, adoring, shy little Alex morphed into cold, dangerous Krycek right before my eyes? Or maybe the way he just ordered for me, without even asking if I was okay with it. No, I think it was the *way* he ordered. French from that mouth is like a blow job for the mind. Close your mouth, Mulder. And lick up the drool first.
"Uh...no one's ever ordered for me before," I finally say, staring at his face, which has gone now from scary back to pretty. I've never seen the scary one. He's never shown that one to me. I've only ever seen the scared or adoring one. I let out a slow, shuddering breath. If he'd have ever turned that glower on me, I don't think I would have been hitting him quite so freely. I can feel my jaw clenching with how badly I want him.
"Did you like it?" I ask, a little breathless and I'm not sure why. Well, him. He's always why.
He smiles at me over what has now become way too much space. I just want to grab him and kiss him and let him play around in my mouth with his tongue.... I want him to take me. Here and now. Maybe go back to the bathroom. We could go one at a time and....
Deep breath.
He looks down, still smiling, and answers me. "I liked it a little *too* much...if you know what I mean. I'm ready to ask for our food to go." And he looks back up at me with a hot little apologetic smirk.
But we were talking about something. And I want to get it out of the way. I ignore the tightening in my groin and clear my throat. "I think I need to tell you this, Mulder."
He swallows and nods, getting back to serious. I'm sorry, baby. I want this to be a real date. No baggage. But I don't think that's possible. Forgive me for not being normal.
"The money I have... You must be wondering where it came from." I look pointedly at him. I hate leading him to this conclusion if he hasn't already thought of it himself.
He gets me. I see the pain sweep over his eyes, turning them blue. "My..." He has to clear his throat now. "My father? Did they...? I mean you said you acted..."
"I did. It wasn't that. I didn't lie to you, Mulder."
Sick. I feel sick now. From horny to nauseous in ten seconds. God, I'm looking over the table at the man who killed my father. And not just my father. Others. I believe him when he says he wasn't behind Melissa's death, or Scully's planned murder. But how many other people's sisters and fathers has he killed?
I look down at my hands in my lap and chew my lip until it hurts. I can't be with a hit-man. I just can't. I *might* be able to be with a former hit-man. I wonder how far he's really willing to go for what he says he wants.
"Where," I start, my voice full of gravel, "did it come from, then?" I still can't look at him. I want so much for him *not* to be someone I can't be with. Please, Alex, don't be someone I can't be with.
I've done it. This is where he says he can't do this and gets up and leaves. Except he's not leaving. He's sitting there with this terrible weight on him. He asked me a question. He wants me to defend myself. He's waiting for an answer. I think he needs the real one. Deserves it. And I'm never lying to this man again.
"The tape," I say quietly. "I sold secrets off their precious tape."
He looks up quickly. "Alex, I asked you that in Hong Kong, and you said you didn't."
"No, Mulder, I didn't," I reply. "I remember everything we said. You accused me of selling secrets off the tape, and I told you the tape was encrypted. You said I found a way. I told you I didn't have it, but I could get it for you, and I'd give it to you if you let me go."
It wasn't exactly lying, and I'm just praying he can see the fine distinction.
"So I was right. You found a way to decode it, and you *were* selling secrets."
That's right, Mulder. Thank God for your need to have all the answers. He just skipped right on past the half-truths and is sitting there all smug about having been right.
"Yeah. And not to the highest bidder, if that's what you're thinking. I didn't have to. Anybody in the know would have paid anything for it."
He nods at me, his eyes still clouded over with memories of holding his father as he died, it appears. Mulder, I'm sorry.
"To who then?"
"I can't give you names. I give you names, you die." He puffs up like he used to do before he'd hit me. I roll my eyes. "*I'm* not gonna kill you, Mulder, Jesus." He at least has the grace to look embarrassed. "I need you safe," I tell him, inching my hand a little closer to his. "I need you."
He moves his hand and picks up the champagne bottle, pouring himself a full glass and downing half.
I sigh. "How many people do you think I've killed, Mulder?"
I'll admit, that question throws me. Totally. I swallow hard, considering, then down the other half of my drink. The look he's giving me...it's too hard to look at, and I distract myself with pouring a third glass of champagne. I stare at the bubbles.
Well, he was awfully young when he was first paired with me. I really do think he was pretty recently out of the academy. He probably didn't do a big contract-killing business out of there. And I don't believe he was moonlighting during the few months he was assigned to me, although I do believe he killed the tram operator and Duane Barry. God, we'll have to talk about that, too, I suppose. Anyway, that was about...a year and a half ago, and I know of two hits he's been involved with since then. I try to stay objective. Both of those...hits...were part of the whole mess with the digital tape. How many others did he end up killing over that?
Jesus, I have no fucking clue. I shake my head, defeated, and look down in my lap.
"That many, huh?" I ask him, a sad smirk on my face. "Mulder, look at me."
He does, and damn it, I want to touch him. Just...touch his fucking hand. I sigh.
"I don't even know if that's a question you need answered. Maybe..." I pause, seeking the courage I need to do this. I've known I was going to since I first contacted him anonymously. I just didn't think we'd be having this moment...like this. "Maybe...all you need to hear is this...that I'm getting out. It's over for me, Mulder. I'm through killing. Never again."
We look into each other's eyes over candlelight and nice linens. Believe me, Mulder. Please, believe me. I've never been more serious about anything in my life. Except loving you.
"You're...quitting?" he asks.
"I guess you could say that. I haven't worked for *them*...in awhile. But I haven't done the one thing that could change my life...change who I am. And that's be with you."
He draws in a quick, excited-but-afraid-to-be breath and shudders it out through pursed lips.
"You should know, Mulder...that I'll never kill again for them or for their cause. But I'd do *anything* for you."
I just stare at him, wanting to believe him and so scared to at the same time. Like always. But his eyes...God, his eyes...if he's lying now, he's the best fucking liar I've ever known, and I've known a few.
He didn't lie to me about the tape. He's right about that. I remember everything we said, too. He did lie to me about my father, though, and he certainly lied to me about who he was when he was working with me.
But I don't think he's lying now.
I narrow my eyes, turning what he said over and over in my mind, never looking away. I think he's serious. I think if I told him to go blow away Rush Limbaugh, he'd call the airlines to book his flight. No one's ever offered me anything like that, before. Of course, I'd never take it. Although in Rush's case, I'd be damn tempted.
"Alex," I say softly, my heart thudding with the implications of what I'm about to reveal, "I'm not looking for a hired thug. I'm looking for a lover."
Oh God... Oh God... Check please! My heart is thudding wildly in my chest. A lover. He's looking for a lover...in me. Me. I love him so much right now it scares me. I try not to let him see just exactly what those words have done to me when I look across the table at him.
"I'm yours. If you want me." My voice is so rough. He opens his mouth to speak and there's Jean-Paul with a tray full of food. Mulder snaps his mouth shut and turns to our tactless waiter.
"The filet mignon pour monsiour," he says, laying Mulder's steak in front of him. "And the scallops...pour monsiour." He puts my food in front of me. It smells amazing but my stomach wants to revolt. We're quiet until he leaves which is not at all soon enough.
Mulder begins cutting his steak, and I swirl a large, white scallop around in the fragrant sauce. I don't look up at him. "They're all gay, you know."
He has his first bite almost to his mouth and stops. "What did you say?"
"The wait staff. The patrons. Did you not look around when you came in?" I know he did. And then he looked at me. My cock twitches remembering the exact look he gave me.
"I guess it didn't register," he replies before taking a bite and chewing.
I nod, knowingly. He looks into my eyes for a moment and then... He blushes. Damn, and it's hot. For the third time in the evening, I take the same chance. Slowly, cautiously, I set down my fork, food untouched, and slide my hand across the table toward his.
My mind's spinning while my mouth's chewing. A gay restaurant. Gay patrons, gay staff...everyone's gay. Am I gay?? Jesus, don't go there, Mulder. I look away, feeling the warmth creep up my neck, into my face. I'm breathing fast, trying to take it all in, when I feel the slightest touch to my fingertips where they're resting on the stem of my glass.
I gasp. And jump. And use every ounce of willpower not to pull my hand away. Jesus, it's actually shaking, but I make myself leave it there, because I really do want him to touch me. I flick my eyes up to his, and he looks scared, but determined. Like I said, amazing courage. Well if he can show that kind of courage to me, the least I can do is my damnedest to accept it.
I lick my lips nervously as his thumb brushes over the backs of my fingers. God, such a tiny, subtle touch, and yet my whole body feels it, a shiver working through me from fingertips to toes, once again settling in right between my legs. I think I'm more turned on now than when I was fucking him up against my wall.
Oh yeah, Mulder, go there, why don't you? Jesus, if my eyes could fuck him, he'd be coming by now.
Mulder finishes his steak in what has to be record time. For anything other than a puma. He had to saw at it one-handed, too, as I wouldn't stop stroking his fingers all through dinner. All 5 minutes of it. And hey, it's not like *he* was stopping me. He was most certainly *not* stopping me. He was trying to will me to feel his dick penetrating me just with the look in his eyes, I think. And I did feel it. That look was incendiary. I'm hard and ready for him.
So much so that when the waiter comes back I let him say nothing more than, "Would anyone...?" before I cut him off.
"No. Thank you."
"Just the check," Mulder adds.
We look at each other. The intensity of the sexual energy passing between us like a hot cord. He barely smiles at me. I barely smile at him. I brush his fingers again lightly, surreptitiously. He looks at the waiter. Then I do.
"Right away," he says and scurries off.
Did Alex eat anything? Did I? I swear I don't even remember. I know what I *want* Alex to be eating...what was that he said about me being dessert? I hope to fuck he wasn't just teasing.
We have to break contact with one another's hands as he pays the check, laying down a wad of cash that would choke a horse. It's really a shame that such an expensive meal left absolutely no impression on me at all. Well, not the food, anyway.
He walks me out to the front of the restaurant and the valet drives up in a sleek, glossy black Mercedes. Alex leaves my side for the first time since standing up from the table, receiving the keys and hooking the ring over one finger. I can't help but be reminded of that face, younger, fuller, more innocent, shaking my own keys in my face, asking me where we were going after tracking me down when I ditched him. That was the first time he'd impressed me and I'd started to think maybe he had something to offer as a partner. I can't decide if the recollection makes me sad or happy. Maybe he really can take the pain out of those memories once and for all.
He opens my door for me. I smirk at him, lowering my head to look up at him from under *my* lashes. I'm positive I can't do the look as well as he can, but it works good for the mock-glare I give him as I slide into my seat.
He just grins and hurries around and climbs into the driver's seat, waiting until I've got my seat belt fastened before quickly but very smoothly pulling into traffic.
The drive is horrendously awkward as I wriggle around in my seat, dealing with the hardest boner I've had in...decades, I think, trying not to look down into his lap to see if he's struggling with the same. For his part, he navigates the traffic like an Indy 500 driver, barely tapping the brakes at all during what feels like an hour but is probably closer to a fifteen-minute drive to his building. We don't speak. I think we're both just breathing in the energy between us.
A valet comes to get his car at his building, and he turns on that cold, warning stare for just a moment as his keys leave his hands and are placed into those of the young man. I see the kid go two shades of pale and slide very reverently behind the wheel. Alex gives it no more consideration as he walks us through the foyer of the building to the elevator, his hand hovering at my lower back, but not touching me.
He's taking me up to *his* place. After a *very* nice dinner. I suppose he expects me to put out. I smirk and look at him as he leans forward, very intent on pressing the button for the elevator. He flicks a glance at me, but he looks more tense than excited. I guess he's even more nervous than I am. Maybe I can help him relax on the way up.
This is not the silo. This is not the silo. This is not the silo...
>Ding!<
The doors open and like every other day I take a deep breath into my lungs as I step onto the elevator for the tense ride up to the 60th floor.
Better up than down, I think for the thousandth time. That *is* why I picked this place. I want to be as high as I can get. A place with a basement is my nightmare. It's why the valet is such a bonus. No way I'm driving down into the bowels of that parking garage.
So fucking ironic. To get to my airy penthouse in the sky, I have to get in a tiny little box for 3 minutes. It's the price I pay. And pay and pay and pay.
I hit the penthouse button and the doors close.
"You live in the penthouse?" Mulder asks, incredulous and impressed, I think.
"Yeah," I answer, distracted as the car jolts up and shifts my stomach into my throat.
I stare at the green numbers as they light up, willing them to go faster.
"So," Mulder says next to me. Right next to me. "Must take a while to get to the top, huh?"
I flash on the inside of the silo. Dark. Stale. Silent. I shake my head to get rid of it. "Sometimes."
His voice is in my ear now. "Do you know how fucking gorgeous you look, Alex?"
"Uh huh..." I mutter, unhearing.
Just then, there's a jolt and the car stops. Just stops.
Mulder is backing me into the back corner of the car. Why is he doing that? Why isn't the car moving?
"There is a God," he mumbles, and then his lips are on my neck.
And I'm screaming!
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!!! NOOO!!!! NOOO!!! HELP ME!" Oh God it's so black and my ears are ringing and there's nobody here with me and all I see is black and all I feel is the hard ground, the hard wall, round and round and round and I can't tell where I started and where I'll finish and oh God I'm alone!! "HELP ME!!!!!!!!!"
"Jesus, Alex! What the fuck is the matter with you?" I holler as he punches me hard in the chest, pounding the air out of my lungs. "I'm not raping you, for Christ's sake!" I stumble backward and the sleek, smooth operator from the restaurant is pushing past me, oblivious, screaming for help and pounding on the walls of the elevator like he was pounding on me a minute ago.
Oh. Oh! He's not afraid of me! It's the elevator! He's got claustrophobia! I approach him carefully from behind, trying to recall everything he told me about his trips to the therapist. Basically, he told me nothing, except it had to do with the black oil. Fuck!
"Alex...Alex, listen to me..." I'm actually afraid to touch him, afraid he'll turn that frenzy on me, and I listen carefully, trying to make out what he's saying so I can counteract whatever dark fantasy he's caught in.
"GOD! SOMEBODY PLEASE! PLEASE, GOD! LET ME OUT!" His throat tears with the screams and his face is already streaked with tears. Dear God, this is bad.
"Alex...Alex it's me, Mulder..." I move in carefully, ready to deflect any blows, and place a hand very tentatively on his shoulder. To my surprise, he doesn't even react, just continuing to howl and sob and pound on the walls, leaving multiple dents in the sleek, brushed aluminum. Jesus Christ, where is he?!
I reach for his hand and catch it in mid-swing, holding it steady. He's stronger than I am, and though he doesn't fight me, he still struggles to pound on the walls, screaming his neverending scream for freedom.
I get right up by his ear, where I'd been moments before this hell began. "Alex...please, it's me, Mulder. Fox Mulder. Please...can you hear me? Alex?" I move in closer, pressing my whole body against him, trying to hold him while not restraining him too much.
The screams lessen a bit, and I think I'm reaching him as he begins taking deep, panicked breaths, eyes darting frantically, never lighting on my face. I take his face in my hands, forcing it in front of my own. His eyes are perfectly round, wild and bloodshot, and rolling in his sockets. I'm looking at sheer, utter terror. I feel my own throat close in sympathy. I hold his face, and it's a struggle as he shakes and jerks and tries to get away.
"Alex!" My voice is choked with emotion. He doesn't see me...doesn't hear me! My God, Alex, I had no idea... I stroke my thumbs across his cheeks, ignoring his arms as they try to push me away. He's so strong and powerful he nearly succeeds, and I find I have no choice but to back him up against the wall and hold him there with my body. I'm sorry, Alex, but I don't think you know what's happening anyway.
"Alex, listen to me. It's Fox. It's okay. You're in the elevator with Fox Mulder. We're going to your apartment. I'm going to make love to you, Alex. Please, please come back to me, Alex...please!"
I find there are tears rolling down my cheeks as well, then my breath catches in my throat as his eyes fix on me, wide and round and terrified. I think he sees me.
"Muh...Muh...." He gasps, and I nod, encouraging him to say my name, but he's panting too much to get it out. I'm seriously afraid he's going to hyperventilate as I see his usually so pretty-pink lips start to turn blue. I've got to calm him down.
"Alex! Breathe! God, Alex, please! Breathe for me! Breathe for me, Alex, if you love me, please look at me! Alex, please! It's me, Fox Mulder and dammit I love you and you need to fucking CALM DOWN!"
I sob the last as well as screaming it, and he simply collapses in my arms, burrowing into my chest like he's digging himself a home there. I wrap my arms around him and feel his body, hard as stone, shudder and shake and wrack both our bodies with his sobs. I'm crying too, silently, and stroking his hair, his back, anywhere I can touch, and I'm murmuring, "It's me, Mulder...it's me, Mulder...you're with me, Alex. You're with me and you're safe."
Suddenly the elevator jolts, nearly knocking us off our feet, and resumes its swift ascent to the sixtieth floor. I hold him all the way up, stroking and soothing him as he cries into my chest, completely ruining the navy silk shirt I wore to be sexy for him.
The elevator stops and dings loudly, and the doors slide open, harmless. I very quickly hustle us both off the elevator, and he never takes his face from my chest, grasping my shirt so hard the tension in the fabric cuts into me. We get into the large, brightly-lit, airy hallway and I very, very slowly pry him away from my body. I don't have the keys to his place, so he's going to have to pull it together enough to get us in the door. "Alex, you're home."
He steps back from me, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream, then looks from the huge wet stain on my chest to my face, then down to where his hands are clutching two tight handfuls of silk. He lets go suddenly, stumbling backward.
"Muh...Mulder," he gasps, looking horrified. "I'm sorry!"
I step in quickly, taking his still-raised hands in mine. "It's all right, Alex. God, I'm so glad you're back." His hands are shaking violently in mine, as is the rest of his body, and he's still gulping for air. He's sweaty and his beautiful tuxedo is a mess. I can't help but want to hold him. I move slowly, pulling him in against my body. He's rigid, fighting my embrace slightly with the tension in his body, but I just breathe deeply, stroking his back, settling his chin on my shoulder and mine on his. I feel his hard arms very hesitantly settle on my sides, not quite holding me. I wriggle my body a little, pressing us even closer, working my way into his arms, which open spasmodically and grip my back. I talk soft and low in his ear, trying to soothe him.
"It's all right, Alex. Everything's okay. You're okay. You're with me, and I'm going to take care of you." My lips begin moving against his ear of their own volition, kissing it lightly, and I feel a violent shiver wrack his body from head to toe.
"Mulder...Mulder," he sobs, pressing his face into my neck tightly. And I feel the tears as they flow warmly from his face onto my neck, dripping down my collar.
"Yes, Alex. It's Mulder. Just relax, okay? It's all going to be okay." Brave words, considering what all we've been through together, and what it appears he's been through on his own, but somehow, I feel that what's between us might be even stronger than all of that bullshit. Amazing. And I would never have had this if he hadn't had the courage to hand me his heart, his body, and his life on a silver platter. Suddenly, I just want to hold onto him so badly. I just want to do whatever I need to to keep him. I'm addicted to him all over again. He shudders and sniffles quietly against my neck and shoulder, his body still shaking with his sobs. We really need to get him inside.
"Hey, Alex," I say gently in his ear, mouthing the soft lobe. "If you tell me where your key is, I'll take you in your apartment and give you a proper thank you for the dinner."
He actually laughs once softly against me though his choked sobs, then I feel him swallow as one trembling arm slides from around my waist and searches in the pocket of his tux. He brings his ring of keys out and I take them from his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it go.
"I gotta let go of you, baby, to open the door." The term of endearment is very strange but somehow sweet on my tongue. I feel him sigh and step back out of my arms, and I see his eyes finally looking like the person I know. Well, the version of him I know, anyway. The lovestruck one, it appears. I smile big at the thought, really, really glad that Alex Krycek loves me. I stroke down his face with the hand not holding the keys, and he sighs and leans into it, shivering.
I look around the big hallway. There's only one door. His. The penthouse. Why the hell do you live somewhere that you have to take an elevator to if you're afraid of enclosed spaces, Alex? Are you trying to beat your fear? Did your therapist tell you to do this? I don't ask him any of these questions as I sift through the keys, finding the right one on the third try, and open his door. He shuffles in just behind me, looking down at the floor, breathing shakily and swaying slightly. I press his door closed and turn as he walks past me, dragging his feet.
I ruined his shirt. One minute, I'm there -- so there it couldn't possibly be anywhere else -- and the next, I'm in a bright place, a place with Mulder in it, and I've got two fistfuls of his beautiful shirt and he's seeing me lose it. No one was supposed to see that. Mulder wasn't *ever* supposed to see that.
I walk into my house, not really paying attention, not really even walking. My fit sapped all of my energy. And I'm still shell-shocked from it. All I know is I have to sit down. Outside. I have to get outside. Even the massive expanse of my living space is too small for me right now. I hope Mulder doesn't mind the cold.
Mulder. He'll never love me now. I can't believe I've gotten so close to him only to know that now he'll undoubtedly make the choice to back away. Funny. It's not my work that's finally going to shove him out of my life. Not the fact that I've hurt him immeasurably. It's my weakness.
He'll make his excuses. Maybe even try not to hurt me by pulling the it's-not-you-it's-me bit. Maybe he'll make sure I'm all tucked in and something on the safer side of crazy before he walks out my door and never looks back. Maybe my place will smell like him for a day or two.
I walk, propelled by my one need...space. I don't look behind me to see if he follows. What does it matter? Four steps, twelve steps, 5 minutes, an hour.... Eventually he'll be gone and... I'm not sure where I'll be. I can't think. I can't see. It's too bright. Like a doctor's office. It's too clean. It's empty. Even with him in it. Because he's not touching me. I can't want him to touch me anymore. It'll be taken away soon enough.
I hear his steps echoing behind mine and I curse my heart for beating stronger. He follows. I feel sad tears, heavier than the terrified ones I shed while I had my episode, build behind my eyes. Well, Mulder. How many steps more will you take with me?
The place is HUGE. And where's the furniture? The style is decidedly oriental and extremely stark and spare. It goes on forever, like a loft, with columns instead of walls to separate the different parts of his apartment. I'm trying to find a couch, but he just keeps walking, dragging his hands along a panel in one of the columns without looking at it.
Fifteen-foot floor-to-ceiling vertical blinds whir to life and slide to the sides, uncovering wall-to-wall windows. I'm standing in awe of a view to rival that of the Empire State Building, and he just keeps walking, pressing another button. There's a soft >snick< and he presses on a panel that leads out onto a large balcony. He plods out to the center of it and collapses into a thick, oak chaise lounge. I look around the apartment, not sure what I should do at this point, then shrug and follow him out. He's lying back in the lounge, eyes closed, breathing deeply. His hair is sweaty and spiky and sticking to his forehead, and I find myself leaning over him and brushing it off his hot brow. His eyes blink open and he stares up at me.
"This is a nice place, Alex," I say, pulling a chair up next to his lounge. He watches me, looking down and away ashamedly and then bringing his eyes back up to mine when I don't look away.
"You don't have to stay," he whispers, squinting his bloodshot, tear-spiked eyes. "I'm...I'll be fine."
I sigh, long and low. "Alex, what happened in there? I know this is what you're seeing your therapist for, but...why do you live in the penthouse if you hate elevators?"
His eyes close and he makes a sound between a laugh and a sob. His voice is barely audible, hoarse and soft from the screaming and crying. "Because I hate basements even more."
I lean in, touching my hand to his, and he jerks a bit just like I did at the restaurant. Like him, I leave my fingers there until he relaxes into the soft touch. He doesn't open his eyes, just breathing the cold night air deeply. "I know you said you didn't want to talk to me about this, but I think...after this...maybe you should tell me what's going on."
I watch his face tense, his jaw going hard as he fights with himself, eyes squeezed tightly shut. I wait it out, barely moving my thumb across his fingers, giving him the same touch that he so lovingly offered me. We sit like that for what seems like five minutes, and I feel the night air start to seep into my bones. We really need to get off this balcony...or something. God, if he's in shock, this could kill him. I feel my brows draw down in a frown.
"Alex, it's too cold out here. We should go in."
I feel his fingers twitch against mine. "Not yet," he says between clenched teeth. "I'm not ready yet, okay, Mulder?" He opens his eyes and they're so sad and scared that I just nod slowly.
"All right, Alex, but let me get us a blanket, okay? Where are they?"
He raises one slightly trembling arm and points to a corner of the expansive apartment. "The bedroom's in there. The closet. Everything's in there."
I rub his hand briefly, then stand up. "I'll be right back." He just closes his eyes, nodding, and relaxes back into the lounge. I go into the apartment, looking around as I make my way back to the bedroom.
He touched my hand. He spoke in terms of we and us. I try not to give that too much meaning.
He likes my apartment. He thinks it's nice.
He touched my hand.
God, I want him. I *want* him. In my life! In my every day. In my kitchen and my bathroom, leaving the counter tops wet, leaving short, little, just-shaved hairs. I want him getting a blanket for me always.
I wipe at my tears and blink back new ones. I can't want him like this. Not if he's going to come to his senses and bail. And why wouldn't he do that? I'm nothing that's good for him. I'm everything that is wrong with his life. He used to know that. I guess I did an okay job of blinding him to that knowledge. He's so fragile. I tell him I'm getting out of the business and I *see* the hope light up on his face. I know...I *know* I wouldn't ever intentionally hurt him again, but... God, how can he afford to take a chance on me? Now that he's seen that my weakness is as powerful as any strength.
Mulder, don't fall for me now. Don't touch me again, because I'm not strong enough to let you walk away from me if you do.
Like the rest of the apartment, there are no true walls, merely partitions that offer partial privacy from the rest of the house. And everything is streamlined, sparkling, and new. It doesn't look like anyone lives here. It makes me sad, somehow. I find the closet, which has no handle but is just flush with the wall, and pull out a huge, down-filled black duvet. I'm warmer already as I carry its bulk back out onto the chilly patio.
When I get back, I look down to find Alex holding himself, shivering slightly. I think about suggesting we go inside again, but if he was ready for that, he would have come in himself. I frown, getting quite worried, then step forward, standing in front of him.
The lounge is big, although not big enough for both of us to lie down. But if he sat up, there would be plenty of room for me to sit next to him.
"Alex?" He opens his eyes and looks up at me, looking tired and sad. "I brought you a blanket. I was thinking that maybe...we could share it," I say quietly with an offhand tilt of my head, like offering to share a blanket with Alex Krycek was something I do every day. He just stares up at me. "That or I can give it to you and get myself one," I suggest, when he doesn't say anything.
"No! No, Mulder, please...sit down?" He sits up and swings his legs over the side, tucking his hands between his thighs for warmth. I sit down beside him carefully, then wrap the blanket around both of us. It's a big duvet, but we're big men, and in order to close the blanket in front, we have to sit pressed right up against one another. I don't know about him, but I think it's really, really nice. He holds one end and I hold the other, our other hands lying next to each other on our thighs, barely touching. I'm instantly much warmer, and as I snuggle in a little closer, I feel Alex's shivers subside with a soft sigh.
"I can't believe you're still here," he whispers brokenly, not looking at me.
I can't decide whether to make an off-color remark to try to lighten the mood, or use this intimacy to find out what's troubling him.
"Alex, please. Talk to me. What was going on in there?" I keep my voice soft and low, but I don't turn to look at him. I don't want to overwhelm him with my presence. He just shakes his head 'no' over and over, staring out at the night sky. "Alex," I say, still not looking at him. "Do you really love me?"
He turns to me, lips parted in surprise, brows drawn. "Yes! Mulder, yes I love you!" he exclaims, looking worried. I look up and meet his eyes and for a moment, I can't breathe...can't look away. So deep and so dark and so incredibly sincere. Yes, this man loves me. I feel it.
"Then you need to tell me what's wrong, Alex," I explain, staring into those eyes, willing him to feel the emotion I can't name yet.
"But..." he begins, and I lean in, closing my eyes and putting my lips at the corner of his mouth briefly, then brushing them to his ear.
"Please."
He sighs deeply, and I feel his hand reach for my leg, clutching at it. I do him one better and take his hand in mine, twining our fingers together. My lips are still at his ear and I nudge his hair with my nose and inhale deeply, floating on his scent for a moment. I'm getting hard, and just when I decide that maybe we really *can* talk about this later, he starts to speak.
"I...I woke up...on my..." he swallows loudly. "Hands and knees on top of the shh-shhhip."
"It's okay," I murmur as quietly as I can, working my lips up and down the side of his neck softly. He sighs and tilts his head to the side, baring more skin for me. I take advantage of it, strengthening my kisses. "Go on, Alex." I've already figured out what he's going to tell me. It's the silo. I knew he was there. I just didn't know what had happened to him there. Evidently it wasn't good.
"There was..." And I can tell he's clenching his teeth. I can feel the tension in his jaw as I trail my kisses up and across it. "Oil," he grates out. "Pouring from my...eyes and my nose and my mouth and..." His mouth closes, firming into a tight line, and I nudge his face toward mine with my lips, bringing his mouth around to mine. He doesn't resist, turning his head and letting me seal my lips to his with a sigh and a little moan. I find myself moaning back and stroking his lips open with my tongue, wanting badly to be inside that soft, warm mouth. They immediately part for me and I slide my tongue alongside his slowly and thoroughly, half-conscious of a desire to wash the memory of the oil from his mouth. He whimpers and kisses me back, his hand gripping mine tightly beneath the blanket. I slow the kiss gradually and then pull back, placing parting kisses on his lips and jaw, and then working my way back over to his small, cold ear.
"Tell me," I whisper, warming his ear with my lips and my breath. He whimpers again, breathing deeply and licking his lips, then continues.
"After it was all....out and it seeped its way back into the ship," His face twists as he says it, and I place a firm kiss on the tendon of his neck to relax it. It works, and he sighs and keeps talking. "I climbed off and realized..." His breathing becomes more rapid, his fingers squeezing mine painfully under the blanket. "I couldn't get out." His voice is choked, thick with tears again. "I couldn't get out!"
"You're out now, Alex," I say softly in his ear. "Outside, on your beautiful balcony, wrapped up in a blanket with me, necking." I smile against the side of his neck, then pull back to see his eyes and am thrilled to see his lips twitch up in an answering smile. It trembles.
"Nobody came," he says in a broken whisper. "I called and called and screamed and screamed and..." His voice is getting wound up, and I pull my hand out of his grasp and wrap it around his back, pulling him even closer, placing his head on my soggy, chilled chest. "And there was no food and no water and no light except for this dim...light from out in the ha-ha-hallway. I could see it, but the door was locked and I couldn't get out."
And I was there, I think to myself. Right in that damned silo, maybe right near that door, but they caught Scully and me and hauled us away in the back of a military truck. God, if I'd known...I don't know, honestly. I hated him so much then, or thought I did. But I don't think I would have left him down there if I'd had a choice. No, I know I wouldn't have.
"Who rescued you, Alex?" I ask, wishing it had been me. "How did you get out?"
"The Russians," he whispers against my chest. "They found me, thank God they found me, and they let me out, and I was willing to give them anything anything anything if they'd just let me out and they did."
"I'm so glad," I say into his hair, feeling how true it is. "I'm so glad, Alex. And now you're safe and you're with me."
"With you," he says softly against my chest. "God, Mulder, I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. I love you, Mulder. I love you so much. I love you."
"I know," I murmur into his hair. "I really do know, Alex." I sit there, stroking his back and kissing his hair until he feels totally relaxed against me. Then I lean in, nudging him so that I can put my lips to his ear. "Alex?"
"Mmhmm?" he hums against my chest.
"Can I take you inside and make love to you now?" I feel my whole body catch fire as I say the words, and suddenly I want him so bad it hurts.
"Oh God," he gasps against me, his breath hot where he's worked his lips between the buttons of my shirt. "Yes."
I help him raise up, holding him while he gets his balance, both of us still holding our edges of the blanket closed as we stand. I take his free hand in mine once again. "I want you so bad," I murmur, and I place his hand firmly on my erection, sighing as his warm hand immediately closes around me.
"Oh..." is all he can get out before I'm taking his mouth again, moaning down his throat as he begins to rhythmically squeeze me, groaning into my kiss.
I speak against his lips. "Can I fuck you, Alex? I want to do it right this time." His only answer is a whimper as he squeezes my cock even harder, and I grab his perfect ass and pull him up against me, trapping his talented, busy hand between our hips.
I start leading us back in off the balcony, trying to break contact between our lips, his hand and my cock, and my hand and his ass, as little as possible, and we both laugh a little as our teeth bump together and we nearly trip over the edges of the blanket. We make it inside, and Alex fumbles for the button that locks the door to the balcony. I pull away from him, tucking my end of the blanket around him, wrapping him up in its warmth. He stares at me with glassy, dark eyes, huddled in its soft depths.
"Where's the button to shut the blinds?" I ask as he stands there, motionless. "I don't wanna give the police helicopters a show."
"One-way, bullet-proof security glass," he answers throatily. "They can't see in. We can only see out."
"Oh," I say, somewhat disturbed and somewhat titillated by the idea of making love in front of huge, floor-to-ceiling windows.
He must see my mixed reaction, because he smiles a little, his eyes twinkling. "Security cameras, too," he says in a voice that sounds like a groan of pleasure. "But I'm not tellin' where."
I step in quickly and curve my hand to cup the back of his skull and pull him in for a deep, possessive kiss. He groans and kisses back, the duvet dropping to the floor as his arms come around me. It's the only thing out of place in this whole, big, sparkling, empty place. If Alex is compulsively neat, we're gonna have a hell of a time shacking up.
Was this really always there, this open, beautiful, giving man, every time he was around me? Did I just not stop hitting him long enough to notice? What a waste of time. No one's ever hurt me as deeply as he did, but no one's ever loved me as ferociously, either. And I know he didn't hurt me by choice, and that loving me, or at least confessing that love to me, was a very dangerous choice indeed.
Oh Alex, my Alex, what life have you gotten yourself into, and can we really beat it together?
I kiss him more deeply and start to back him toward his bedroom, vaguely recalling being on the receiving end of such treatment very recently. He was in control then, but tonight he's mine. I feel a moment of pain as I remember the last time I had control, but swallow it back, vowing to make it up to him tonight.
"What...what are you doing?" he mumbles against my lips, stumbling backward.
"Taking advantage of your weakened state," I smirk against his mouth, before plunging my tongue in deeply, pulling a low moan from his throat. No doors to open...that makes things more convenient as I navigate us back to his bedroom and give him a shove, watching his eyes go wide as he falls back onto the huge, sumptuous bed.
It's piled high with velvet and satin pillows in varying shades of black, grey, creams and beiges. I don't think I've ever seen a bed so luxurious and inviting. And sexy. Then I realize that it's too much bed for just one person, and a flash of jealous possessiveness burns through me. I stand over him, licking my lips, staring into his eyes.
"Alex..." I say, squinting against the anger that I don't deserve to have. What? What am I going to say? I have absolutely no right to ask him who all he's brought here before. And why does it even matter?
"Mulder," he rasps, his voice rough and quiet. "I've never brought anyone to my apartment before, let alone to my bed."
I just stare down at him, my lips parted in shock. How does he read me so well? Do I wear my feelings on my face that blatantly? God, and people call *me* spooky. I blink rapidly. "It's just so...big, I just thought..."
"It's not often I actually get to sleep in my own bed," he says softly. "When I do, I want it to be..." His beautiful lips curve into a big, shy smile. "Nice."
I smile at that. It makes sense. So my Alex is a romantic *and* a sensualist. "It is nice," I say, climbing onto the bed slowly and straddling him.
He watches me with wide eyes, his little pink tongue flicking over and over his soft, pretty lips. I just look down at him, outfit disheveled from his upset, face streaked with tears, eyes red from crying, nose and ears and cheeks pink from the cold. My heart hurts he's so beautiful. I reach down and brush my thumb over those lips, hoping for a touch of his tongue, and he starts to raise up to meet me. I press him back down to the bed, firmly but gently, then lean in close, inhaling his sweat and musk and tears and expensive cologne as I nestle my face in against his neck once more.
"Just let me do this," I murmur into his ear, rocking my hips into his as I press against him. He gasps and arches up to meet me, his cock so hard I think it's going to leave a bruise.
"Anything," he moans, his arms wrapping around my back, sliding up and down as he undulates under me. "Anything you want, Mulder. God, anything at all."
I go even harder hearing it, but it shouldn't surprise me. He gave himself over to me with just as much abandon the first time, and he *knew* I was going to hurt him then. I'm not going to hurt him now. I just want to make him sigh and gasp and moan and say my name in that desperate, throaty, breathy voice that makes me weak. I want to see him shudder and shake and come, long and hard, and I want him to know it's me.
I raise up again, missing the contact between his cock and mine as I settle back on his thighs, holding most of my weight in my legs. I brush my thumb across his forehead, once again smoothing his hair where it's spiky with his sweat. "You," I say, feeling my voice fail. "You're the one who's beautiful, Alex." His eyes flutter closed as his lips part on a sigh, and I lean in and press mine against them, just breathing his breaths for a moment before sliding my tongue in deep, claiming him gently this time, but just as thoroughly.
As his hands start to rake up my back, pulling my shirt out of my pants frantically, I lean back again, watching his eyes flutter open dazedly. I take his hands from where they are wrapped around my waist and press them down gently to the bed on either side of his head. He doesn't fight me, letting me arrange his body, moaning and pressing up as I slide my hands down his arms. I know he'll leave them there. God, the vulnerability, the trust, the utter submission just makes me crazy.
My hands are shaking as I reach down and untie his bowtie, then pull it slowly from around his neck. I drop it over the side of the bed to the floor, and smirk just slightly, thinking what a mess this room is going to be when I get through with it. Get through with him. The thought steadies my hands as I begin working the buttons of his once-crisp white shirt from their holes.
As each button is freed, I bend in and brush my lips against the tantalizing little bit of skin I've bared. It tastes of salt and of him, and it makes me want to lick him from head to toe. Who says I won't? Well, I may not be able to stand not fucking him for that long, but hell...we've got several hours 'til morning, and it's not like I've never been late to work before.
Each brush of my lips on his skin brings forth a delicious little whimper from that bared throat, and I can't help but to move up and fasten my mouth against the side of it, sucking my mark into his flesh. I put my hands on his, pressing them into the mattress, and listen to his open-mouthed gasps as I work his skin in my lips and teeth, gentle, but firmly enough that I'm positive it will leave a nice, vivid mark for me to admire tomorrow.
I give him one last nip and raise back up, undoing the rest of his buttons more quickly, losing patience as more and more naked Alex skin is exposed. His chest is smooth, hard, and completely hairless. I wonder if he's naturally this hairless or it's a gay thing, and if that's what he prefers in his men. I think briefly of the scattering of hair on my chest and wonder if he finds it attractive or not. Since I'm used to the soft, smooth skin of a woman, Alex's hairless flesh is absolutely perfect for me, and I bend in again, scooting down his legs, and begin licking my way from collar bone to navel.
I push his shirt open and work my way back up his torso, pulling back a moment to admire it again before diving back in to see if his nipples are as sensitive as mine. I frown at the way his ribs show so clearly, his stomach not only flat but hollow. He didn't eat anything. I'm sure of that now, and I vow to make him that breakfast he talked about before. There is a small trail of hair leading from his navel down into his pants and my tongue just wants to follow it, drooling my way down. So much Alex to taste it's hard to know where to focus my energies first.
He opens his eyes, a question in them as I stare down at him.
"What?" he asks quietly. He sounds worried, like maybe I don't like what I see. Oh, Alex.
I lower my lips to his nipple, never taking my eyes off him. It's difficult, but my tongue's long, and I'm able to flick it across the hard nub while still maintaining eye contact. The result is pure magic as Alex's neck strains to hold his head head up, his mouth falling open in gasping sighs as his long lashes flutter, his eyes struggling to remain open under my assault. I feel the jolt myself, a straight shot from my tongue to my dick, and I realize I'm thrusting it against him as I tongue him. I can't help it. I just want him so bad.
I need more.
I raise up and watch his head fall back to the bed. "Sit up," I say softly, moving back to give him room to do so. His abdominals contract as he raises his body off the bed. I immediately push his shirt and tux jacket down his arms and pull it off, leaning into him and feeling his lips begin to move against my neck as I work it off his hands. That's against the rules, Alex, but God it feels so good I stay there a moment, until his hands come up around me, squeezing at the muscles in my back. I pull back with a deep sigh, my own eyes blinking, wanting to close with how good that mouth feels on me. I put my hands on either side of his head, holding it still as I kiss him, soft and deep. He starts to work his hands between us, unbuttoning my ruined shirt, and although I didn't want him to have to do anything for me at all, it feels so incredibly good to have his hands on me that I don't fight it, shifting to let him in.
"Mmm'so good," I mumble into his mouth. "Love it when you touch me." I do. I do. I can't get enough. I simply can't get enough of touching and being touched by this man. I feel him get my shirt open and then grunt as he struggles to push it off my body along with my suit jacket. I have to let go of his head and break our kiss to let him, so I do, and soon I'm as shirtless as he is. We stare at each other, our eyes and lips just inches from one another, for a heart beat and a half then both press in at the same time, mouths colliding, naked chest to naked chest, and the sensation is almost more than I can stand.
I'm moaning into his mouth, sliding my hands all over his back, and he's groaning into mine, just holding me tightly like he thinks I'm going to try to get away. I'm not going anywhere, Alex. Not on your fucking life. I'm exactly where I want to be now.
I try to break the kiss and pull away, but he holds me more tightly, kissing me more fiercely. I groan and give in, kissing him a few moments more before forcibly pushing back from him, panting. His lips are wet and gleaming from our kiss, his eyes half-closed. Fucking incredible. I slide down his legs and he reaches for me, but I quickly move back and climb off the bed.
Then I go to my knees and pull his legs over the edge of the bed, and begin working at the clasp and zipper of his pants.
"No, Mulder, not...not that way..." he says, reaching for me, trying to pull me up.
"I want to give you what you gave me, Alex," I say, staying right where I am, grinning as I get his fly open and feel the black silk of his boxers. Oh, Alex, baby. For me? Thank you. I lean forward quickly, pressing my mouth against the bulge under that black silk, and Alex's hands rest on my shoulders gently as he whimpers. That's right, Alex, just give in. I suck at his hot, hard cock through the silk, moaning at the wonderful feel of it on my tongue, and at the warm, twitching flesh underneath. Alex whimpers, his fingers clutching then releasing then clutching again at my shoulders, and when the silk at his crotch is thoroughly soaked with my drool, I lean back and away, licking my lips.
"Lie back," I rasp, breathing rapidly with the nervousness over what I'm about to do, and the intense excitement at the thought of Alex's cock in my mouth. He slowly lowers himself to the bed, curling down gracefully and letting his hands fall at his sides. I start to work the pants and boxers from his hips, and he raises them, letting me get him naked. I pull them down, inhaling sharply as I get my first really good look at Alex Krycek's cock.
It's glorious. Long enough to scare me just a little at the thought of that pushing down my throat, and thick enough to wonder if my lips can take it. My perspective on what makes a nice cock certainly has changed as I find myself wishing it were a bit smaller and more manageable.
I try not to think too much about that as I slide his trousers down his legs, slipping off his gleaming black shoes and his socks, and finally removing his pants completely. Another wrinkled garment tossed on his pristine floor. I can't help but grin. I scoot in closer, leaning over him, and his eyes are closed tightly, his hands clutching at the coverlet.
"Alex," I say, feeling myself blush. "I've never done this before. I want to do it, though, for you."
"Oh God," he moans, his eyes fluttering open and closed. "Mulder, you don't have to..."
"I said I want to," I reply firmly, running my hands up his thighs and hips. He bucks up into my touch with a quiet moan. "I'm just sorry that I can't be as good for you as you were for me."
"Jesus, Mulder," he says, finally opening his eyes and staring at me incredulously. "Good? God, Mulder, it's *you* for Christ's sake."
I squint. That really hits me hard. I feel a lump in my throat and swallow against it, blinking. No one, and I mean absolutely no lover I've ever had has made me feel this cherished, this adored, this...loved. I just look up at him, incredulous right back.
"Alex..." I shake my head. "I just..." I close my mouth. These feelings don't have words to put to them. Well, maybe they do, but I'm not ready for those words yet. Instead, I keep my eyes on his as I lean down slowly. He watches me, breath held, and when I open my mouth and close it over as much of his cock as I can, he gasps and squeezes his eyes shut, fists full of duvet.
Just that reaction alone makes this an incredibly arousing act. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about having a man's cock in my mouth, but it's his responses, the sounds he makes, the way he whimpers and writhes and almost sobs that makes this as good for me as it must be for him.
I think I'm going to like this sucking-cock-thing. I think I'm going to practice a lot.
I moan against his cock in my mouth, trying to move my tongue the way I think he moved it on mine. I remember a lot more about that night than I ever let on to him. A lot more than I'd wanted to admit to myself. Enough to know that no one's ever made me feel like that. Enough to know that I don't think I could go through my life thinking I'd never have that again, knowing it was mine for the asking.
I try working my mouth up and down his shaft, and I feel my teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh inadvertently. He jumps a bit, and I pull off with a slurp. "Sorry," I say wetly, licking the drool from my lips and giving the tip of his cock an apologetic kiss. "You'll have to teach me how to do this right, I guess."
"Jesus, fuck, yeah," he says, sounding like he'd answer that to just about anything right now. I smile and open my mouth again, sucking him in as deeply as possible, trying to protect him from my teeth with my lips the way I've seen the porn stars do countless times. It's a hell of a lot harder than it looks, dammit. But the way he whimpers and moans and messes up the bed with his writhing makes it well worth my efforts.
I don't think I want him to come in my mouth, though. I'm not quite ready for that, for one thing, and I really want to be able to look at his face when he comes. I didn't get that before. I really missed it. But, if he really wants to come in my mouth, I want to give it to him.
"MmmmAlex," I say breathlessly, pulling off with another slurp. "Do you wanna come in my mouth?"
At first I'm afraid he didn't hear me, because his only answer is a high-pitched moan and more writhing. So I slide up his body and lean over his face, breathing hard. His eyes are closed, his mouth open, panting breaths coming from it in quick succession. Looks like he might be in danger of hyperventilating again.
"Alex," I say softly, and his eyes open and focus in on me at half-mast. "If you want to come in my mouth, I want you to, but I really, really want to watch you come. What do you want?"
What do I want, Mulder? Oh God *this*! All of this. You! Being this way with me. I'm so tired. So exhausted from my episode earlier. I didn't want to need this. To need him to take care of me. I didn't think he was ready... I didn't think he would *ever* want to do this for me. I would have been happy just doing it for him. I would have been happy showing Mulder how much I love him for the rest of my life. I never anticipated that he'd now be staring down at me, a soft yearning look in his eyes, asking me what I want.
I look at his lips, his mouth, so recently on my cock and I feel like crumbling into grateful, fatigued tears. He reaches out and touches my face, waiting for my answer, looking ready for whatever that is. Maybe not ready. Maybe just...willing. I'm stunned.
"Alex?" he asks again.
I can't find my voice to tell him. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out but a hitched breath.
"It's okay," he murmurs. "It's okay. Don't talk. Here, move up onto the bed, baby." He helps me scoot so that I can lie flat on my silken duvet, my head resting on my plush pillows. He comes with me, still hovering over me. I feel safe with him there, so big and naked and warm, hearing him breathe, feeling it on my face.
He gently pushes my legs apart with one hand and then lowers his pelvis onto mine...his beautiful, straining erection alongside mine. He hisses with the stimulation and I just can't help but look at him in awe. Touching me made him make that noise. I feel my heart swell.
"Muh..." I gasp past the lump in my throat. I have no choice but to whisper. "Kiss me."
He almost growls now, having been given permission, and attacks my mouth with his. His tongue enters my mouth and he licks and licks at me, moaning almost constantly. I feel his kiss in my balls. I feel too tired and wrecked to kiss him back, but I try anyway, touching my tongue to his and arching my throat to angle our mouths differently.
"No, Alex," he says, breaking away. "Please, let me. I want to just have your mouth. You're so sexy... Just open your lips and let me have you." His voice is shaking with hunger and emotion. I relax back into the pillows and look up into his eyes, submissive. It's what I need. To have him let me let go. I didn't know I wanted to so bad, but now he's lowering his mouth onto mine again and prying my lips open wide with his and filling my mouth with his tongue and all I can do is take it and whimper because he tastes so good and he's going so slow and being so thorough and I'm his. So his. He's fucking my mouth with his tongue so slow and so hot and he's moaning like *I'm* the amazing one.
He tears his mouth from mine with a grunt, breathing heavy and I'm very aware that he's *not* thrusting against me. I want him to. His mouth moves to my ear, opening and closing against the sensitive shell, making me shiver.
I shamelessly tilt my pelvis up and rub my erection along his. "Mulder," I whine, wrapping my hand around his head, because I'm not ready to not feel his lips anywhere else than where they are. When he kisses me here, I can listen to the small moans he makes beneath his breath that I would miss otherwise.
"You want me to hump you? Like this?" he asks against my ear and begins pulsing his hips confidently. All I can do is nod enthusiastically, gripping his soft hair tighter.
"Do you know, Alex," he asks, his deep voice catching on his excited breaths, "how badly I've wanted you?" His cock strokes mine over and over again, and I think it's his pre-cum that's smearing between us. I'm not sure. "Do you know how sweet having you under me is?" His breath shudders in my ear and his hand slides down the side of my chest and stomach to my hip and around to my bottom. I feel a need rising up in me that's unlike anything I've ever felt before. My knees have bent and risen up and out of their own accord, making my body more vulnerable to him, and now he palms my ass cheek in his hand and squeezes, lifting me up and into him so that our erections press together tightly, almost painfully, for a moment. I gasp and throw my head back.
He's lifted his head and is looking down at me. "This way? Can I?" he asks, looking down between my legs and back up at me. He reaches up and threads his long fingers through my hair. When I don't answer right away, he leans down and places a sweet, chaste kiss against my lips and whispers against them. "I just want to take care of you." His fingers brush my face reverently. "I want to make love." Another kiss. He readjusts and there's a nudge of his cock now between the cheeks of my ass, against my hole. I gasp and open my eyes to look into his. I want what I see there to be the truth about how he feels about me.
What's in his eyes is beautiful.
"Yes, Mulder. Please yes."
God, I never thought I could fuck him and see him at the same time. It's absolutely amazing, watching his eyes flutter open and closed, his beautiful lips gasping with pleasure, his pink tongue coming out to stroke along them as he pants beneath me. I feel the head of my cock slide against his opening, somewhat lubricated with my pre-ejaculate, but I know he needs more, and I know more than anything that I don't want to hurt him. I bend in and brush my lips over his closed eyes, feeling the soft tickle of his thick lashes against them.
"Alex...do you have anything to use...I don't want to hurt you."
He moans and arches, thrashing his arm out to the side toward the tiny, sleek black ebony nightstand. There is no drawer, only a single glossy white box. I shift to the side, reaching as far as my long arm will allow, and sliding my cock alongside his inadvertently in the process. We both moan in chance pleasure as I flip open the little box and pull out a bottle of Wet. There are foil-wrapped condoms in there, too, but we established one long week ago that they weren't needed between us. I'm certainly not going to use them this time if he was good enough for me last time.
And he was. He really, really was.
I flip the box closed and readjust myself, leaning on one forearm as I open the flip-top of the bottle with the other. I pass the bottle to my other hand and squeeze out a big glop, rubbing it over my fingertips. I reach between us, sliding my slippery hand down the underside of Alex's trapped cock, and he groans hard and arches up to meet me, raising his legs again in invitation for me to get on with it. I've had anal sex with women before, so this part's not new, although I don't fuck women up the ass face to face. Alex holds his legs for me, making himself totally available, and I slip my fingers between his sweet ass cheeks and slide them up and down over his hole.
I love the way he whimpers and grunts, pushing himself into my touch, wordlessly pleading for more. I rub the pad of my middle finger in quick, gentle circles over the tight, wrinkled opening and feel it start to give for me, and at the best opportunity, I push in, twisting a little as I go to ease the way. He makes a noise that sounds a little like pain, and I frown, finger deep inside him, and lean in over his face.
"This okay?" I whisper, staring down at his tightly closed eyes.
"God, yes, Mulder, just...please!" he answers, his eyes snapping open to fix on mine pleadingly.
I smile down at him and begin fucking him with my finger, watching the heavy lashes fall over his eyes as his lips part on short, sharp gasps with each thrust.
"More?" I ask, already knowing the answer, and before he can open his mouth to answer me, I slide in a second finger, spreading them inside him and pressing him open, smearing the lube generously. I work my fingers in and out a few times until his mouth firms in an impatient line, then I grin and slide them out, quickly covering them with more lube. I use that to quickly slick up my cock, then place the tip just at his opening, the brushing of my sensitive skin against his stealing my ability to speak.
"Wanna fuck you now, Alex," I gasp. "M'gonna do it right this time." And then I push in, watching his mouth open in an 'O' of pleasure, his brows arched over his closed eyes. "Oh God, Alex," I groan helplessly as I push myself deeply into his body. "So fucking beautiful...so fucking beautiful..." I can't form any other words, and I watch as these cause Alex's brow to wrinkle as if he's in pain. I know he just can't believe it's me, saying these things to him, after all of the hurt I've given him so mindlessly. I can't believe it either but the words just fall from my mouth as I sink into him up to the hilt.
When I'm buried fully inside him, I groan and let my body sink down over his, and then push my tongue between his parted lips, doing with it to his mouth what I'm dying to start doing to him with my cock. I stay buried inside him, fucking him steadily with my tongue, feeling him do nothing more than just moan helplessly and suck on it, trembling slightly beneath me.
Then I start to move.
I pull back slowly and can't help the sharp groan that's forced from my throat and down his. This is just so *right*. So sweet and good and so fucking incredible...I think I was born to fuck Alex Krycek. Nothing else makes any sense to me as I start working in and out of him, slowly but firmly, swallowing the the high, growling whimpers I'm wringing from his body.
"Ohhh God," I moan into his mouth. "Ohhh s'good..." And I suck his tongue into my mouth, kissing him so hard...can't kiss him hard enough to express what it feels like to fuck him like this. He's grunting, opening his mouth wider to me, giving me total control over his entire body.
"Mmmoh, Alex, Alex, Alex," I sigh into his mouth, moving faster, harder, deeper now, feeling the urgency build quickly. I have to pull my mouth from his to fuck him as hard as I need to now, and I struggle to keep my eyes open so I can see his mouth gasp, his lashes flutter as I begin pounding all my feelings into him.
Not rage, not fear, not confusion, and certainly not hate. This is something bigger than all of those, something that threatens to reduce me to tears as I feel the coil winding tight in my balls. Wanna make him come first...have to see his face, hear his voice, feel his body surrender to the pleasure *I'm* giving it. I'm just about to slow down my hips and lean my weight on one arm so I can reach his cock when I feel his body buck hard underneath me, his amazing voice bouncing through the hollow apartment as he yells my name.
"MULDER!" and he's coming on my belly and on his, his brows drawn down like a frown, his mouth stretched wide open on my name, and I have to taste it as it comes from his lips. I dive down, still feeling his muscles clamp down on me, still feeling the shudders wrack his body, and I put my open mouth over his and swallow his screams, feeling the tears squeeze helplessly from beneath my tightly closed lids.
He comes down from his climax with a long, deep, shuddering groan into my mouth, and I take my lips from his once again as I feel my body begin to spin out of control.
"Oh Alehh...Oh Alehh..." I gasp, the tears pouring warm down my cheeks as the pleasure builds to a point past what I thought was possible. "Oh God! Oh God!" And then suddenly I'm
Coming! Oh God coming so fucking *hard* and I'm sobbing, and screaming, and I'm not even sure what I'm saying as I feel everything just blast from my body, leaving me cleaned out and purged and new, and it seems to go on so long, working every last breath from my body before I finally feel it subside.
I sink down onto Alex's body, feeling the sobs shake my body as the strength is immediately drained from it, leaving me weak and helpless and trembling on top of him.
I feel his arms come up around me and he feels so warm and so tender, and I can just *feel* his love for me, and I continue to weep silently, my face pressed against his neck. I become conscious of my own voice, whispering out against his skin, and I hear it say over and over again, "I didn't know. I didn't know. I didn't know, Alex. I didn't know." And he's hushing me now, and I hear him tell me he loves me, and I feel myself grab onto those words for purchase as my entire world is completely destroyed and the slow, frightening rebuilding process begins.
I wake with a start, unsure why I can't move my right arm or leg. I tense every muscle in my body in preparation to lash out at whatever's got ahold of me, when I hear a soft, sleepy groan beside me. My heart is still thudding like mad in my chest from my nightmare as I turn my head to see him there. Mulder. Naked. Heavy. Smelling like sex. Lying half on top of me.
He mutters something in his sleep, "Buh....Scu...mmmnuh..." He smacks his lips and resettles against me, mouth open against my shoulder.
I take several calming breaths. But as usual my mind is still racing from the horrific images. I want to wake him. I don't want to wake him. I want him kissing me and holding me to his chest. I don't want to disturb him.
Finally, my fear wins and I crawl stealthily out from under him and out of bed. I go to the bathroom and then pad softly out into the living room. The moon's light shines in onto the floor and illuminates my way to the stereo. I grab the remote and make sure the sound is down low. I don't want to wake him. I just need this.
The mellow, female voice starts crooning about anyone who's ever had a heart like Lou Reed never could. I close my eyes, letting the smooth, hypnotic slide of guitar slow my pulse. I let my teeth unclench, my mouth go slack. I can't let go of the hold I have on my own elbows. I'm a little cold, but I like feeling the air around me as she sings me back to normal. I like feeling the air, the space.
She's just gotten to the part about Jimmy down in the alley when his strong arms come around me. I jump but immediately relax again. His touch is so gentle. Like I'm fragile. Like...he....
Tears burn my eyes and I turn in his arms and bury my forehead against his upper chest, holding onto his waist with my hands. His arms only tighten, pulling me close.
We're naked and standing in a pool of moonlight. I don't know what time it is. I don't care. He's here. He's still here. I take a deep, shaky breath and as I let it out he drops his lips into my hair.
"I know," he says.
My arms go up around his neck and he presses against me, our bodies flush. His penis is only slightly swelling and I'm mostly soft, but it feels good. So damn good.
I realize we've begun to sway. He's swaying to the music. Mulder's dancing with me.
My lips pull into a tired smile even as my tears fall. His fingers dig into my back possessively for a moment and then he sighs against my hair and relaxes them, just stroking lazily. No hurry.
He's not going anywhere.
End, Chapter Four
Chapter Five
hidingnthelight: Hi, Mulder.
medrul: Hi, Alex. :-)
hidingnthelight: You're back I take it?
medrul: Yeah, I'm back.
hidingnthelight: Solve the case, G-man?
medrul: Naturally. Well, sort of. Miss me?
hidingnthelight: God yes.
medrul: I missed you, too. I wanted to call you, but you wouldn't believe the shit that happened down there.
medrul: Well, maybe you would.
hidingnthelight: Not El Chupacabra again was it?
medrul: Christ, no. But I did spend a night camped out under a fucking tree, and chasing around on the wrong side of the tracks the next.
hidingnthelight: Camped out? With Scully?
medrul: Ha! Yeah, right. Scully accompanying me on one of my all-night wild goose chases? She left my ass and went back to the motel.
hidingnthelight: Sorry. I didn't mean to sound...wifey.
medrul: LOL...I wanna hear you say that word out loud.
hidingnthelight: Never gonna happen, baby. ;-)
medrul: Oh yeah? That a challenge?
hidingnthelight: Always.
medrul: Yeah. Yeah, I missed you. You kept me warm that night under the tree.
hidingnthelight: How so? Jesus Mulder, you didn't jerk off, did you?
medrul: LOL! God, what kind of horny bastard do you think I am? Don't answer that. No, I didn't jerk off.
medrul: I just...imagined your arms around me.
hidingnthelight: I like that.
hidingnthelight: Well, you did make off with my Hugo Boss suit. Did you wrap that around you? ;-)
medrul: Ya know, I was gonna get around to that. I'll have it cleaned...I'm pretty sure they can get that shit out with *something*...but yeah...I smelled you all night.
hidingnthelight: You prick. LOL! I can't be angry if you say sweet things like that.
medrul: Scully liked that suit, though. I mean...before the...well, anyway...
hidingnthelight: How much did she like it, Mulder?
hidingnthelight: Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm a little jealous of her, that's all.
medrul: Anybody ever tell you you sound wifey sometimes, Alex? ;-)
hidingnthelight: Shut up.
medrul: Make me.
hidingnthelight: If you were in front of me right now I'd swat your fine ass.
medrul: What if I was behind you?
medrul: Then what would I get?
hidingnthelight: What do you think? ;-)
hidingnthelight: Sorry. I don't want you to think I think I own you or anything.
medrul: Alex. Don't worry about Scully. In fact, this is probably a really good time to tell you...
medrul: I sort of told her about you. Sort of.
hidingnthelight: Holy shit! What do you mean sort of?? What did she say?!
medrul: Well, she asked me if I'd lost some weight. The suit, you know. It was kind of big on me.
hidingnthelight: Yeah? And?
medrul: And with my usual social aplomb, I answered, "Huh?"
hidingnthelight: Smooth.
medrul: Always.
medrul: So anyway, she said my suit was very nice, but it seemed a bit big on me.
medrul: I blushed about three shades of red.
medrul: That's when I got the Scully look. Not just the eyebrow, either, Alex. The chewed-lip-thing, too.
hidingnthelight: And you cracked.
medrul: Well, I wouldn't say cracked exactly...I gathered my wits together and...yeah, she totally broke me.
hidingnthelight: Okay. What exactly did you tell her, Fox?
medrul: Oh, Fox is it now? I started by telling her it wasn't my suit.
hidingnthelight: Yeah, I can't see you opening with, "I'm fucking Alex Krycek now. How was *your* weekend?"
medrul: I'm hard now. I hope you know that. But no, I chose another tactic.
medrul: Eyebrows going skyward, she asked me whose suit it was, so I told her it belonged to a friend.
medrul: Then I blushed.
medrul: And hardened.
medrul: She noticed the former. I hope to GOD she didn't notice the latter.
hidingnthelight: Mulder. You're rather...how can I say this?...gifted. I'm *quite* sure she would notice. She's probably just way more subtle about looking than I would be.
medrul: Oh, way to make me feel totally weird around my partner, Alex. We were in the car. Did I mention that? I practically went off the road. To save both our lives, I decided I'd better pull off on the shoulder.
hidingnthelight: Mulder, she probably thought you were gonna make a move.
medrul: She's not a slut like you, babe. ;-)
hidingnthelight: Yeah, but you are.
medrul: LMAO!
hidingnthelight: Okay, I gotta ask you something before you go on.
medrul: What is it?
hidingnthelight: Does she...want you? Have you two... Fuck, I don't think I want to know.
medrul: We don't have that kind of relationship, Alex. We never have. We just aren't what each other needs in that particular department. She's just my very best friend. She's never been my lover.
hidingnthelight: Okay. Thank you.
medrul: No problem, Alex.
hidingnthelight: So you pulled out...I mean over...
medrul: Alex...
medrul: Yes. I pulled *over*.
hidingnthelight: You think you're the only one hard right now?
medrul: I guess I hadn't thought past my own cock.
hidingnthelight: Ignore it, if you can, and finish telling me about what you told Scully. Please.
medrul: Ignore it. Yours or mine? You ask too much of me.
medrul: But I'll tell you what she said, even if I *am* now thinking of your cock.
medrul: She turned to me and asked me, very calmly and terrifyingly, if I was bisexual.
hidingnthelight: Wow. She's good.
medrul: Was there ever any doubt?
hidingnthelight: No, there wasn't.
medrul: She's saved your life *and* mine, babe...
medrul: Anyway, when I had recovered the precarious power of speech, I choked out something resembling, "Yeah, I think so."
medrul: Even though I'm not really sure about that. I mean...if I was bisexual, I'd wanna fuck other guys, right? I don't. Never have. I just wanna fuck you.
hidingnthelight: Oh God, say it again...
medrul: I just wanna FUCK you, Alex.
medrul: Alex?
medrul: Hey! Don't start without me over there...I'm not done with the story!
hidingnthelight: Yeah. Okay.
medrul: So she asked me if I had a boyfriend.
hidingnthelight: A...boyfriend?
medrul: And she asked me if it was his suit.
medrul: Okay, I'll admit, that one threw me for a loop. Like...two full minutes worth of very awkward silence.
medrul: Then I said, "Yeah." To both.
hidingnthelight: You did?
medrul: Yeah.
medrul: I made love to you, Alex. I'd call that more than a casual work acquaintance.
hidingnthelight: But...I didn't know if you were ready. For that kind of label. Are you?
medrul: Are you going to go around bragging to all your buddies? ;-)
hidingnthelight: I did. It's done. Your name is on the inside of every bathroom stall, baby.
medrul: Did you make me sound good?
hidingnthelight: I was honest. I said that you were the best fuck I'd ever had and had the most beautiful God-like body, and treated me like I was something special...
hidingnthelight: Good enough for you?
medrul: Um...yeah, Alex. Good enough.
medrul: You are special, Alex.
medrul: So anyway, there I am, standing there with my big mouth open till my teeth dry out and stick to my lips, and she goes all sweet on me and says she's happy if I'm happy.
hidingnthelight: That's...really great, baby. Really. :-)
medrul: That's when I flashed on you asking me if I was happy coming in your mouth, so my loose pants became quite a bit tighter.
medrul: Happy...Mulder happy Scuwwy...happy Mulder.
hidingnthelight: LOL! Sorry. ;-)
medrul: Yeah, well, that's all I was really capable of vocalizing at the time, so I kept that part to myself.
medrul: She also said, and this about dropped my jaw to the floor, that she thought it was kinda hot.
hidingnthelight: Did you still have that boner? That's my boner you know. Does she want my boner?
medrul: LOL...she does *not* want either your boner or mine, but I think she likes the idea of us wanting each other's. ;-)
hidingnthelight: How'd you get so lucky, asshole? ;-)
medrul: I have no fucking clue.
hidingnthelight: She still doesn't know it's me. Does she.
medrul: Well, no, not exactly. I mean...no.
hidingnthelight: It's okay. I kind of figured that.
hidingnthelight: I understand that you need time.
medrul: I will tell her, Alex. I just think one step at a time is the best way.
hidingnthelight: That's fine. I'm sorry I am who I am.
medrul: Alex, I'm not sorry you are who you are. That you are who you are is the reason I'm here. I mean, I'm just now getting to know the person you are, and I'm finding that I really...I really like that person, Alex. What I don't like is what you've done. The choices you've made. The life you've chosen. But all of that's changeable. I want to help you change that. But I don't want to change *you.*
hidingnthelight: I almost can't believe that we've gotten to a place where you can differentiate between the two. What I've done and who I am. Mulder, I can't tell you what that means.
hidingnthelight: And I don't think you'll ever know how sorry I am. About the things I've had to do. To you. You don't know how grateful I feel that you seem to want to let me make it up to you. As best I can anyway. And I meant it when I said I want out. Am getting out. I can't do it anymore.
medrul: I'm surprised that you've done it this long. I mean, I don't mean that the way it looks. What I mean is...the kind of person you are...it doesn't seem natural for you to...end up doing that.
hidingnthelight: There are a lot of sides to me, Mulder.
hidingnthelight: And I believed what they were telling me was truth.
medrul: Yeah, I guess I'm being all starry-eyed about the loving, sexy one now the same way I was myopic about the one I saw as heartless and treacherous.
medrul: And Alex...I mean...you brought it up, so I gotta ask...you must *know* some truth. Some of it was the truth.
hidingnthelight: Some of it was. Is. I don't have the tape anymore. Did you know that? It's gone. But I can't not remember some of the things on it.
medrul: I know it's gone. You gave me the key. Well...it did.
hidingnthelight: I...didn't remember. I deduced. It doesn't seem to like leaving you with a memory.
medrul: I'm sorry. That's got to be hard to hear. I've been mindwiped. I know how incredibly violating it is. But I don't think my body was used without my consent.
hidingnthelight: Mine's been used without my consent before.
hidingnthelight: Nothing new there.
medrul: What are you saying, Alex?
hidingnthelight: I'm saying errand boys have to do what they're told. Pretty errand boys get passed around. Mulder, it's okay. I've dealt with it.
medrul: Oh God. And then I...Jesus, Alex. I'm sick. Physically ill. I'm so sorry. Jesus...what a sick fuck I am.
hidingnthelight: I want you to know I *am* clean. I swear it. I know this must have you worried.
medrul: No, it doesn't, because I believed you then and I haven't stopped, now. God...Alex...
hidingnthelight: Mulder, it's totally different...
hidingnthelight: From the first night I came to you, I have wanted every little thing that you've done to me. Do you understand that?
medrul: No. I don't.
hidingnthelight: Every touch...was like a benediction. Every time you touched me, even when it hurt, was like...
hidingnthelight: I *love* you. Even when you didn't know it, you've been making love to me.
medrul: God, Alex...but I just...and then I got upset over the most fucking spectacular blowjob of my entire goddamned pathetic life and called it date-rape. Jesus, Alex.
hidingnthelight: But then you let me know what it really was to you. I understand the reaction you had. It didn't...hurt me for the reasons you're now thinking. I just didn't want you to feel like I'd hurt you. Sex between us doesn't feel like hurting. It feels like healing.
medrul: I didn't let you know what it really was to me, Alex. I didn't let *me* even know it. I'd never felt anything like that. I remember the whole thing, from the time your mouth touched my cock. God, Alex...I just wanted to scream and cry and rent the fabric of the world...it was too fucking good...and I didn't want it to be, because I didn't think I could have it again.
medrul: I never wanted to leave your mouth. You asked if I was happy. I don't think I knew what happy was until I came in your mouth.
hidingnthelight: You're beautiful. I want to do it to you again just to see how beautiful it makes you. As much because you're happy as because you're coming.
hidingnthelight: There have been things done to me...that have nothing to do with love. Not even really to do with sex. And yes, there is a piece of me that I don't think will be healed from those things until I see some pain inflicted. But what I have with you...it makes me think I can let it all go. You've changed everything for me.
hidingnthelight: Fox, am I making any sense to you?
medrul: Alex, Alex, my Alex...
hidingnthelight: Your Alex...
medrul: I want to change everything. Everything between us that's been. Happy is so terrifying, Alex. Because when you're happy, it can be taken away. I learned that when you left, and when Scully was taken. Now I have you both back...and when I think of losing you again...
medrul: If anyone ever touches you that way again...I mean, I'm not saying you're my property, but...fuck, Alex, I *will* kill them.
hidingnthelight: You can't be my bodyguard, Mulder.
medrul: I'm not saying that. I just...I want you safe.
hidingnthelight: I want the same for you.
medrul: Then we'll keep each other safe.
medrul: Alex?
medrul: You there?
hidingnthelight: Yeah. I'm here.
medrul: You seem...quiet.
hidingnthelight: I'm just thinking. About what we're doing. What we're trying to do here.
medrul: What do you mean, thinking?
hidingnthelight: Just what I said. Being with me could get you killed, you know.
medrul: All of life is a risk.
medrul: I'm not afraid of risk, Alex.
hidingnthelight: You know this is different.
hidingnthelight: Mulder...
medrul: What the fuck are you doing, Alex?
hidingnthelight: I've been selfish. I've...not been thinking.
hidingnthelight: I have to stop this. God, I can't be why you die. This...us... We have to end it.
medrul: What the fuck??
hidingnthelight: What I've done
*is* who I am. I don't know what made me think I could change that just
by running away.
medrul: How about I throw you up against a wall and down on the hood of a car and punch you a few times? Bloody your nose? Then will you stick around?
hidingnthelight: What are you talking about?
medrul: You didn't care enough about me when I was doing that to send me away. If that's what it takes to keep you...
hidingnthelight: I'm not good for you. I'm not what you need. I never was.
medrul: Since when the fuck do you decide what's good for me, Krycek?
hidingnthelight: Since you got blinded by a good lay and can't see that having me will end your fucking life.
medrul: Good lay. That's all it was. You fucking prick. You goddamned...you're not getting away with it this time. You do *not* show me what it could be like then rip it all the fuck away.
hidingnthelight: We were never supposed to have it. You used to get that. I don't know why you let me change your mind. I was so stupid. Mulder, I'm sorry. I can't let you. I'm sorry.
medrul: Sorry...you're SORRY?
hidingnthelight: I'm not having fun over here!!! Mulder, fuck! I don't WANT to do this! I have to!!!
medrul: You're not going to. Got it? Sit the FUCK down because I'm coming over there.
medrul signed off at 7:02:30 PM.
GodDAMN it! I should have fucking *known*! I did know! I knew he'd do this! Jesus, why did I think this would be any different?
The tears want to come...I can feel them burning in my eyes and throat...but they're instantly consumed by the intense heat of my rage and I feel nothing but the sting.
He's running away. He can't take it, so he's running. Said it himself. He didn't expect me to let him in. Didn't *want* anything more than a violent fuck against the wall. He said it himself! Goddamn it, why am I so fucking stupid? Telling Scully...taking it seriously...making love to him rather than just a hasty fuck against the wall...he didn't want any of that. Didn't expect it and damn sure can't handle it. He said he loves me because he never expects to hear it back. He doesn't expect to be loved back. Doesn't expect or want a relationship with me.
Well fuck him.
I grab up my coat and snap my gun into the holster at my hip. I don't plan to use it on him, of course, but since I don't know what to expect with him, I just feel safer with it on me.
I'm screeching around corners, remembering how Alex drove so smoothly and confidently through the nighttime traffic the night he invited me to dinner. He just figured he could tell me whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted, and I hated him so badly I was sure to keep him at a distance. I swallow back the nausea and keep driving.
Can I keep him at a distance? Now that I've had him? All of him? I suppose I can...I've spent a lifetime perfecting that particular art. After all, it's not like I ever told him I...loved him. Because it's not like I do or anything. I just really like being with him. And fucking him. And he makes me feel...amazing.
But if he just wants me to be an unfeeling fuck-buddy, I can do that, too. I feel a door close deep inside me and any and all emotion is just...gone.
I pull up to his beautiful building, remembering what he said about basements. My beautiful Alex, dependent on parking valets to help him keep his sanity. Fuck! I absolutely can't let thoughts like that in! He's *not* mine! Not really...only to the extent that he'll let himself be, and as I've seen now, that's not to the extent I'd thought.
I hand the valet my keys and stride into the building, nearly empty in the late evening. I remember his hand at my back. His stunning tuxedo. I remember how much I wanted him, and how it shook me to my soul to see him crumble before my eyes in the elevator.
I squint and watch the digital numbers descend. 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1.
I hear the ding and shake off the slight Pavlovian spike of arousal that sound causes for me now, and the doors slide open noiselessly.
It takes me two full seconds to act, but the clench in my heart indicates that I recognized him instantly. Even through the blood covering his face. Maybe, sickeningly, because of it.
I whip the gun from my holster as the two men holding Alex's unconscious form between them both gape at me, frozen momentarily.
"Fuck! It's him!" And they both let go of Alex, going for their guns, and he drops to the floor of the elevator in a heap.
They recognize me. This is about *me*! About *us*! God! Alex! What have I done? Have I been the cause of your death after all we've been through? No, can't think that way. Can't think he's dead because then I'll be paralyzed and I have to act. I have to kill these motherfuckers.
As Alex's body falls, I dive to the side and go into a roll, then spin around and get off a shot as a big, black-clad body steps out of the elevator and into my line of fire. The body jerks as the bullet impacts the shoulder area, and the man goes sprawling. I see the second man trying to drag Alex's body off the elevator, hissing and swearing. He's slowed down by the dead weight, though, and his reflexes are off. The man I shot is already up and running, and I let him go, levelling my gun at the other man's head.
"Drop him or I'll blow your head off."
I hear him mutter, "Fuck this!" and Alex's body once again slides to the floor. I hear his head hit the marble with a sickening smack, and let the second man go as I rush forward to check his condition.
"Alex! Alex!" I gasp, falling to my knees beside him, barely registering the pain as they, too, crack against the unforgiving marble. I drop the gun and put my hands to his face, wiping blood off the high forehead and cheekbones, feeling tears I'd thought were gone begin to run down my cheeks as I lean in. I put my fingers to his neck to check for a pulse just as a security guard skids to a stop in front of me, weapon drawn.
"FBI," I rasp, my voice broken. "Don't call the police." I hold my left fingers against his neck, fishing in my jacket for my badge. Is that a pulse, slow and weak but definitely there? Jesus GOD he's alive. I don't look away from his face, watching for any movement, any flickering eyelash. Nothing. My right hand is shaking as I extend the badge and I feel it taken quickly. I immediately put my hand on Alex, sliding my left hand behind his head to protect it from the marble, careful not to jostle his neck too much.
"It's okay. It's okay," I whisper, leaning in over his still face, stroking his cheek, the blood still wet and slick on his skin. He can't hear me and I know the words are more to reassure myself, but I keep saying them over and over as the guard comes up beside me and extends the badge toward me, holstering his weapon.
"Whaddya want me to do, sir?" he asks.
God, I don't know. I don't know. I need Scully. She'd know. Of course at this point she'd wanna have him arrested, not knowing the whole story, but I know she'll help me once I tell her what's really going on here. And Alex needs a doctor. Yes, I need Scully. I reach into my jacket and pull out my cellphone, my heart thudding insanely in my chest. She said she'd be happy if I was happy. I pray to every deity that she has the strength to make those words true.
"Hello?"
"Scully, it's me." I clear my throat, trying to swallow against the lump lodged in it. "I need your help. Come to the Berkshire Building, 230 Park Street. Take the elevator to the Penthouse. Come alone, Scully."
"Mulder, what...?"
"And bring your medical bag." I end the call.
"I need to get him upstairs before someone else comes," I tell the frightened guard standing over me.
"Uh...okay," he says uncertainly. "What do you want me to do?"
I take a deep breath, trying to put aside my feelings so I can think. "Lock down the building. Seal off all the elevators and stairways now." He hurries away to comply without a word, and he's back in a few moments, breathing hard.
"All done. No one can get up or down or into the building until I unlock the system."
I nod. "Can you let me into his apartment?" I move around to Alex's head and slide my hands up under his shoulders, lifting the top part of his body off the floor and resting it on my bent legs.
"Yeah, I have codes to every unit," he answers, moving to Alex's feet quickly.
"Let's get him on the elevator. Careful," I say quietly, not being able to stop the warning look I give him momentarily as he reaches for Alex's feet. He nods and we lift Alex and board the elevator, then lay him down gently on the carpeted floor. The doors close and I press the button for the Penthouse, then kneel down beside Alex's head for the long ride up. "Make sure it *does* *not* *stop* until we're at the top," I tell the guard, and he nods again, stepping over to the panel and inserting a code key into a slot.
"Alex," I whisper very quietly, leaning over his face. "I'm here. It's Mulder. It's Fox, Alex. I'm going to make sure you're okay. You're gonna be fine." I hear the words and desperately try to believe them myself as I gaze at his unresponsive face, praying for just a flutter of those lashes, just a twitch of those lips. God, I fucking hate this elevator. Will I ever be able to be on it with Alex and do what I'd hoped? What I'd fantasized as he'd driven me through the streets of DC? Will it always be a place of terror and sadness and danger?
I stroke the hair back from his forehead again and again, wanting so much to bend and touch my lips to Alex's, to kiss away the blood and cuts, scrapes and bruises I see forming on that beautiful face. I'm looking very carefully over his body, searching for any sign of a bullet wound, but there is none that I can see. Nor is there any pool of blood forming from a hidden stab wound. It seems they just beat the shit out of him. They were sent to take him alive, evidently. Guess we got lucky.
I vaguely wonder what the guard must be thinking, watching an FBI agent whispering and stroking another man in a way that can't be construed as anything but loving. I look up briefly and he's watching the numbers restlessly as they mark our ascension to the top floor. I look back down into Alex's face, and can't stop myself now from bending to press my lips so, so gently to his eyes, feeling the lashes brush my lips with the softest of tickles.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, my eyes squeezing shut as I kiss his hair, feeling like I can't stop putting my lips on him now that I've started. I kiss him noiselessly, gently, again and again, stroking my hands through his hair slowly. I can taste his blood on my lips. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you, Alex. I'm sorry I didn't take the danger seriously. I will now, baby. I will, I promise. Just please be okay, Alex. I can't stand it if you're not. We'll make it through this together, Alex. It's the only way we can."
I realize, as I make plans to move in and make Alex's skytop fortress our base of operations, that I don't just want this man. I don't just need him. I love him. I love him and I don't think I can live without him loving me back.
"Please come back to me, Alex," I sob quietly, forgetting about the guard completely as I feel my soul open up in a wash of intensity that shakes my body. "Come back to me and love me, Alex, and let me tell you that I love you. I love you. I love you."
I let it be my quiet, whispered mantra as the elevator comes to a smooth stop and the doors slide open on the bright, sparkling hallway. I sniff and look up, blinking in the blinding light. Time to go to work.
"Help me get him into the apartment," I say in a low, authoritative voice, just in case the guard doubts my competence after watching that display of raw emotion.
He waits for me to lift Alex's top half and he gets his feet, and we carry him quickly to the door and lay him down gently. The guard opens the door and I feel myself relaxing already as I remember what Alex said about some of the security precautions on the place.
"Wait here," I tell the guard, pulling my weapon. He nods and I enter the huge apartment, grateful for the open floor plan which hides nothing, irritated by the immense size which makes checking it take five times as long. I look over the whole place, including the balcony, then hurry back to the hallway.
Why did you let them in, Alex? I think to myself, then feel sick as I realize he may have thought it was me, since he was expecting me. He may not have been taking his usual precautions, upset over my idiocy on the computer. God, Alex, I'm so sorry.
We carry him in and make our way to the nearest soft surface, a super-thick rug just inside the foyer. We lay him down, and as much as I hate to leave him, I know I have to make security arrangements with the guard, make sure he cleans up the blood smears on the foyer floor before someone freaks out and calls the cops, and get the building opened back up so Scully can get in. I go to my knees besides Alex's pale, still form once again, looking at a small smear of his blood on the pristine white rug.
"Alex, I'll be right back. I'll be right back. I just have to take care of a few things." I brush my lips across his cheekbone with the barest of touches. "I love you."
I get up and go with the guard to the elevator. I thank him and get a code key to Alex's apartment, telling him to seal it off so that no one can get up here without security clearance from us. He agrees to alert me whenever the Penthouse button is pushed and hold the elevator until I've spoken personally to whomever it is. He'll also make sure the utility stairway is locked, with the only access available through him or the other guard. I'll have to meet this other guard before letting him in on the plan. Maybe Alex can vouch for him.
I send the guard off and before the elevator doors have even finished closing, I turn and rush back into the apartment, making sure the door is securely locked behind me. I hurry to the still, slumped form on the rug, falling to my knees with a loud breath, finally alone with him.
"Alex," I say quietly, hearing my voice resonate through the hollow apartment. "It's me, Fox...Mulder." What does he call me in his head? What will help him know I'm here? I wish I knew. I'll have to ask him what he likes to call me when he wakes up. I stroke his hair. "I'm back, Alex. Help is on the way. Everything's gonna be okay." I decide not to tell him it's Scully on the way even in his unconscious state, as I don't want to add fear to whatever he's dealing with right now.
I start to unbutton his dark blue, blood spattered dress shirt to begin to assess the damage. My fingers are trembling and the buttons are difficult to get hold of, but soon I have them undone and am pushing the shirt open, baring his chest. It's covered with dark red quickly-purpling bruises, and I pull my hands back instantly, not wanting to exacerbate his pain. "Oh Alex...my Alex...what the fuck did they do to you?" I can see that purple-green rings are forming around both of his eyes, and his nose and mouth are completely crusted over with drying blood.
God, I've done this to you myself before, Alex. My God...how could I have hurt you like that? Been the cause of something which hurts me so much now that someone else has taken to being your attacker? Never again. "Never again," I whisper to him, placing my fingers on his pulse again, comforted by the slow, but steady throb under the skin. "Never again."
I lean in, careful to put no pressure on his chest, and listen for his heartbeat. And my own heart stops as I hear a low, sharp moan. I rise up quickly, leaning over his face. "Alex? Alex, Alex, it's me, Fox...Mulder...please..." The long, sooty lashes flutter slightly and the cracked and bloody lips part slightly.
"Muh..ller?"
The light's bright and I can't quite see. But the figure over me isn't hitting me. There's no ash falling on my face from *his* cigarette. I hear a voice. It's soft.
"Alex? Oh please, Alex."
"Muh..ller?" I manage, hoping beyond hope.
"Yes! Alex, yes it's me! It's Mulder! God..." He's gentle but it still hurts when he puts his lips against my forehead and kisses me. I don't care that it hurts. Mulder's here. God, he's here. Mulder...
"Mulder..." I gasp and realize it hurts to speak. Like my throat is bruised. I dimly remember somebody stepping on it. After they'd hustled me to the ground. One of them held me down there and the other...
"Baby..." His lips say against my forehead and then they're at my ear. "Baby, it's okay. I've got you. I've got you."
I try to reach my hand up to his face, but my arm won't work. They broke my arm. "Want to touch..." I say but cough and the coughing is like being kicked in the throat all over again. And the chest. And the ribs and gut and the back. I hurt. But it doesn't matter. He's here.
"You want to touch me?" he asks softly and now I can see his face over mine as my vision clears. God, he looks horrible! He's bloody! They hurt him! They HURT HIM!!!
I surge off the floor with a growl and he catches me by the shoulders.
"No!!!" I yell through my tears of rage.
"Alex, Jesus, lie still! You're going to hurt yourself! Shhh!"
I'm in no shape to resist him and I have to lie back down, but now I'm shaking with sobs. He places his warm hands against my face.
"Alex, honey, where does it hurt?"
"They...they hurt you..." I gasp because he doesn't understand.
"Me?" he asks, his brow crinkling. "No. No, honey." Then his brows relax, but somehow it makes him look more tense. "Because of the blood?" he asks now.
I nod and cringe against the multiple pains in my head and neck.
"It's yours," he says hoarsely and I see he's going to cry. Don't cry. I'm so grateful. Thank God. Thank fucking God.
I hear my buzzer and my heart leaps into my throat in a panic. "Mulder!" I say, but he's already up off the floor and at the speaker.
I hear the guard's voice. It's Jimmy or Reg. Not sure. I can't tell what he's saying. I only register Mulder's response. "Scully?"
Oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Not her! He can't bring her in! So many reasons why this is so, so bad. Why, Mulder? Son of a bitch why??
"It's me, Mulder." I think she sounds worried. What did he tell her? Jesus.
"Okay, is the guard there?" Mulder asks. "Put him back on, Scully."
I try to sit up again. I lift my head off my rug and it feels like two tons. I grimace as I lift my shoulders. I can't let them be here. They'll send others. It's not safe for them. Mulder, dammit...
"Whoawhoawhoawhoa!!" he says as he scrambles back over to me. "Alex, you fuckhead, lie down! I mean it." His hands are on me, tender as can be, and he makes me lie back down again. He doesn't get it.
"They'll kill you. Mulder... Please go. I just...please."
"No," he says through gritted teeth. "No fucking way. Now just shut up. Shut up, dammit," he says, his voice hitching with emotion. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand angrily and his beautiful lips turn down in a child-like pout. Once again I want to reach to him. I try my left arm and I'm actually able to lift it a little. Enough that I place it heavily against his arm, my fingers wrapping around his bicep. I don't say anything when he looks sadly into my eyes. He waits for me to speak then asks, petulantly, "What?"
"I'm supposed to be shutting up," I inform him with the biggest smile I can muster which isn't big at all. It hurts my whole face to try.
He laughs mirthlessly and sniffs.
And then there's a knock at the door.
"I'd kiss you if I didn't think it'd hurt like hell," he tells me and then gets up off the floor with an apologetic, pained smirk. I watch him walk to my door. I watch him let her in.
She looks weird because she's so not bloody. Everybody else here is. Guess she didn't get the memo.
"Mulder, what's going on?" she asks, her brow creased, and then she looks past him into my apartment and she sees me. Her eyes go wide and she looks back up at Mulder unable to even voice the question. But I see it. <Krycek??>
He puts his hand on her arm. "Look, Scully, I need you to... Just don't think about..." I hear the pain in his voice, pain because he has to acknowledge that she's still back at two weeks ago and hating my sorry ass. "Can you help him?" he finishes. She must hear the tears in his voice. She must be thinking he's finally flipped for good.
She looks him over. "Mulder, are you hurt?" She reaches out to him and I curse that she's doing what I wanted to do. She's touching him. She puts one hand against his chest and the other on his head. He takes her hands quickly in his and removes them.
"I'm fine. It's not my blood. Please..." He's pulling her over to me and then he kneels down next to me. He doesn't touch me. It hurts more than any of the bruises.
She kneels down, too, and breathes a sigh. She puts her hand against my neck, checking my pulse against her watch. "Pulse is good. Krycek, do you remember what happened?" She's all business. I look at Mulder and he gulps, closing his eyes.
I clear my throat. "Not really," I admit. I look back at the man I've been calling my lover and he opens his eyes and looks down at me. He must see my sadness. He must pick up on this neediness I wish I didn't feel. With steadfast determination, he slowly reaches out and strokes his fingers through my hair. He smiles at me tremulously and then raises his eyes to her. I look quickly in her direction, and I see the question in her eyes. I look back at him, into eyes gazing at her, full of fear. Fear of rejection.
He nods at her.
She's silent for a moment, making her decision I suppose. Not about whether to treat me. I know she will. She's good that way. When she speaks, I know.
"Alex, I need you to try to relax, okay?"
Thank you, Scully. Thank you for not hurting him.
I feel grateful tears fill my eyes. Thank you, Scully. God, thank you. I reach out to her, one hand still in Alex's hair, and touch her jaw with the briefest of touches. She gives me a quirk of the lips to reassure me, then looks down at Alex's face. She bends in close, looking into his face intently as she fishes in her bag. She pulls out a small penlight and shines it into his eyes. I watch him blink rapidly, trying not to squint, and I squint in sympathy, knowing it must hurt him to do that.
"Sorry," Scully murmurs so quietly I almost didn't hear her. Then, more loudly, "You don't appear to have a concussion, Alex." She holds up two fingers in front of his face. "How many fingers do you see?" I watch him blink again, trying to focus, then I hear his rasp of a voice.
"Three."
Scully frowns, nodding to indicate she heard him. I think of the sound of Alex's head hitting the marble as the second thug dropped his prize and fled. I close my eyes against the memory and feel Alex's hand squeeze my arm slightly. I open my eyes and look down into his.
"I'm okay, Mulder," he says, reassuring *me* of all things.
I sigh and shake my head. I want to touch him, but I don't know where I can that it won't cause him more pain. I look his face over very thoroughly as Scully very gently puts her careful fingers to his throat, checking for signs of fracture, I guess. Alex's face tightens against the pain, and I see that his ears appear to be unmarked. I move my ring finger to the top of the shell of his small ear and stroke very softly, staring into his eyes. I watch them flutter closed as he sighs into the ridiculously inadequate touch.
"How does your throat feel?" asks Scully, breaking into the frustrated intimacy.
"Hurts like a motherfuck," rasps Alex, looking very briefly from me to her then back again like he thinks I'm going to disappear if he doesn't keep his eyes on me.
Yeah, you wish, you stupid ass. I give him a smirk. You're not shaking me that easily, beautiful.
"I don't doubt it," replies Scully, taking out her stethoscope. "What did they do, step on it?" She doesn't wait for an answer, looking for a non-injured bit of skin on which to place the cold metal instrument. She finds one that is mostly unharmed, but I watch Alex flinch slightly anyway as she leans in to listen to his chest.
"Breathe deeply," she tells him. "Or as deeply as you can without too much pain."
He tries, and stops sharply, his eyes closing. My brow wrinkles as I try to transmit my love for him through the small stroking of my finger on his ear. I place my other hand on the hand he has on my arm and give it a very gentle squeeze.
"Broken rib, I think," she says absently, moving the scope around and making Alex breathe again and again, not able now to be mindful of the bruises.
"Just look at me, Alex," I murmur, leaning in close. And he does, and I can see the pain swimming in his eyes, but I can see something else there, too. And I love him right back.
"We'll need to tape that up." She finishes listening to his lungs and heart and he sighs deeply but stutteringly as she leans away. I give him a gentle smile, and though his lips don't move, his eyes try to smile back.
"Alex," she says softly, looking at him looking at me.
He tears his gaze away reluctantly, focusing in on her with what must be a painful swallow.
"Where else do you think you're hurt the worst?"
"Arm's broken," he says without hesitation, and I squint, sighing shallowly. Scully just nods, moving to take a better look at it.
"Anything else?" she says, not yet reaching for it.
"My head...bad," he rasps, and his eyes close. I take that opportunity to shoot a quick look at her, asking her with my eyes how bad it looks. She looks at me and gives me the briefest of nods, and I know that yeah, he hurts, but Scully think's he's gonna be okay. My eyes close on a deep sigh, and I hear her speak again.
"Mulder, I have to move his arm. I have to see how bad the break is." She's looking very intently into my eyes, and I know she's telling me that this is going to hurt. I feel my brow furrow and I nod silently, letting her know I understand what she's telling me.
I lean down into his face again, and I know my face is a pathetic mask of worry. "Alex," I say quietly, but I see his eyes tighten as he looks at me. And now it's Alex who's nodding silently, letting me know that he, too, knows what's coming. "Stay with me, baby," I say, feeling myself blush as the endearment leaves my lips, but feeling that my pride is not as important as reassuring him. I can tell that he knows how much that small word cost me, and he's trying to smile at me to let me know that it brought him the happiness I'd meant it to.
I give him the most loving, reassuring smile I know how to give, and my eyes lock with his though out of the corner of my eye I see Scully look from his face to mine, assessing the best time to start manipulating his broken arm. She leans in slowly, placing her hands on the lower part of his arm very gently.
He gasps sharply, blinking rapidly, trying not to pull away as she presses in very slightly.
"Is it here?" she asks softly. "That's where the most bruising is."
I see him nod briefly, painfully, and I squint in sympathy, never taking my eyes from his. It's okay, I mouth. I'm here. I'm here for you, Alex. I'm here. His breath hisses inward and his eyes squeeze tightly shut, and I know she's having to press in to see if there are jagged edges to be taken care of.
"I'm sorry, Alex," I whisper as his good hand squeezes my bicep painfully. "I'm sorry, baby. I know it hurts." I watch tears squeeze out from under his lashes, and I very, very carefully brush them away, not even touching his skin, just stroking away the moisture. He lets out a sharp cry, then falls into a series of short, sharp, breathless whimpers as Scully continues to work on his arm. I bend in closer, placing my lips just above his, my breath blending with his.
"I love you, Alex," I breathe, so quietly I didn't even really hear myself. But he heard me. And his amazing eyes open wide, glazed with tears of pain, but shining with something else, too. I pull back just enough that I can see him and he can see me, and I nod, smiling. Yeah, you heard me say it, Alex. I love you.
I don't want to say it out loud...I don't think Scully needs to hear that, yet. But as soon as I have the chance, I'm going to make sure he hears it. Make sure he knows it.
"Done," Scully sighs, laying the splinted arm very carefully on the floor. Alex doesn't look away, just sighing shakily. I don't either. I smile.
"Alex," she says, putting away supplies. "I have some pain medication, and since you don't appear to have a concussion, I think it would be all right for you to sleep, if you want to. But Mulder, until we know for sure, someone needs to be with him for the next four to six hours."
I volunteer for the job, Scully, I think to myself, giving Alex a little smirk. He's still just staring up me, incredulous it seems. I have to look away to answer Scully.
"Thank you, Scully," I say, looking deep into her worried blue eyes, giving the words every depth of meaning I possibly can.
"You're welcome, Mulder," she says back, giving me a brief, sad smile. Then she looks down at Alex, and so do I, and he's still looking at me, blinking rapidly. "Alex, do you want to try to move to your bed?" she asks, brows arching in concern.
He slowly pulls his eyes away from mine. They settle on Scully, full of pain and confusion and wonder.
"Thank you, Scully," he says, not answering her question.
"You're welcome, Alex," she replies softly. I watch them look at each other another few seconds, and feel a tentative peace treaty being struck between them silently.
"I wanna try to get to my bed," says Alex finally with a shallow, pained sigh, and Scully nods.
"Okay. Mulder, help me get his ribs taped then we can get him into the bedroom." I nod at her, looking her another thank you, and she smiles very gently and pulls the tape out of her bag.
I rip the bloody shirt from Alex's body, and he smirks, giving me the eye as I strip him. Scully and I work together to get Alex's chest taped up, and I can't help but frown and remember moving my lips and tongue over that smooth skin just a few days ago. It feels so wrong and so unfair, but being this close to him I can't help but want him, and I feel it wash through me, stiffening my cock and deepening my breath. I can't even touch him...how will I ever make love to him? As we finish up the taping, and help pull him to a hissing, breathless standing position between us, I resolve to find a way.
We get him settled into his sumptuous bed. Scully props his injured arm on a pillow and helps him swallow some pain medication while I hold his other hand in both of mine.
I squint, remembering his incredibly gentle hands feeding me Tylenol and 7-Up. His tired eyes, still struggling to stay on me, finally fall closed and stay that way, although his good hand doesn't let go of mine.
I think he's asleep now, his breathing rhythmic and relaxed, his hand still clutching mine, but weakly now. He looks a bit uncomfortable, lying there in his tight black jeans. I wonder for a moment how many pairs he has, and if he wears them just for me because of my old fantasy.
"Scully?"
She looks up from placing a glass of water on the side table.
"Um, I think he'd be more comfortable out of these jeans," I say quietly. I get the eyebrow, then she sighs and nods. I sigh, relieved, and she comes over to my side.
"You do the honors," she says a little tersely, looking down at Alex's fly and back up to me. I feel myself blush as I reach down and carefully unfasten Alex's button, then slowly pull the zipper down.
Oh. Ummm...
"What? Oh," she says, looking down at the bare expanse of flesh exposed by the open fly. No underwear. I can't help but grin just slightly. Did he do *that* just for me, too? Scully takes a quick, sharp breath and moves down Alex's legs, choosing to tug them off from a lower vantage point. I work them down off his hips slowly, and though he moans a couple of times, he doesn't wake. Scully finishes pulling them off and I flick a corner of the blanket over Alex's quiescent cock.
"I'll get him some pajamas," I murmur, and she nods, standing by his side, looking anywhere but down at his now completely nude body, one corner of the black duvet placed strategically over his crotch. I grab the softest, silkiest pair of pajama bottoms I can find from his dresser, thinking mostly of his comfort and only a little bit about how incredibly fuckable he's going to look in them, and hurry back. "I can probably take it from here," I mumble, and Scully smiles tightly and exits the room. I slowly, carefully work the silk bottoms up over Alex's legs, and can't resist brushing my hand very softly over the soft bulge just under the fly as I leave him.
Scully's found a futon pushed up against one wall in what must pass for Alex's living room, and she seats herself on it with a soft sigh. There's an Eames chair across from it and I sink into it with my own much deeper sigh.
"Mulder..." she begins, looking down at her hands. Then she stops and I see them rubbing over each other nervously. I'm so, so sorry this has to be so hard for her. I wait for her to ask her inevitable questions. She looks up into my face, her blue eyes awash with confusion and concern. "How long?"
How long? That's quite the question, Scully, depending on what you're referring to. How long have I wanted him? Pretty much since I met him, I think. How long have I loved him? That I'm not ready to answer for myself, yet. I guess what she really wants to know is how long I've *been* with him. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Two weeks."
"Two weeks?" she says, brows arching skyward. She looks toward the bedroom area, frowning, then back at me, and I know what she's thinking. We seem awfully close for two guys that just started...seeing each other two weeks ago. I sigh deeply.
"He came to my apartment," I begin, and my voice immediately goes rough, remembering that wonderful, horrible night. "And we...we worked some things out."
She gives me the eyebrow and I give her a sick smile.
"He's in love with me, Scully," I explain, shrugging. "I don't know how, I don't know why, but he is. Says he has been for a while."
Her mouth drops open, eyes wide. Yeah, I felt the same way. Still do sometimes. I give her a tight smile, waiting for her response.
It isn't what I was expecting.
"Mulder, do you love him?"
Oh God. Now my mouth is hanging open and I'm trying to breathe...I really am trying, but all I can do is pant and swallow and lick my lips furiously. I wipe my hand over my mouth then leave it there, hiding behind it slightly.
"Mulder?" Her voice is gentle but insistent.
"Um...I...Scully..." I start, not knowing if I'm physically able to say the words.
She saves me with a slow, knowing nod, then drops her gaze to the floor between us, blinking.
"He's...he's not who you think he is," I stammer. "Who I thought he was..." She looks up and stops me with an intense frown.
"Mulder, I don't think I can hear this yet," she says softly, apologetically. I nod sadly, shutting my mouth, not really knowing what the hell I was gonna say anyway. "I'm just worried about you, Mulder," she continues. "Are you sure...?"
I look deep into her eyes and nod. Yeah, I'm sure, Scully. She firms her lips and nods back.
"So...what happens now?" she says, finally breaking the awkward silence between us.
"I'm staying here," I reply, happy to have a question I can answer.
She sighs. "Do you need me to bring you anything?"
I give her my warmest smile. "No, Scully. I have everything I need here."
"I guess you can just wear *his* clothes..." she says quietly, and I can't help but chuff out a relieved laugh. She smiles back, pleased, I think, to make me happy. I'm so relieved and grateful I'm almost ready to cry again.
"I'll call in for a couple of weeks vacation time," I say, still smiling. "We need to figure out what the hell all of this means."
"Mulder..." she says, smile fading. "Is he...I mean...what..."
"He's getting out," I say with finality. "He's going to work with me. With us."
She looks surprised, but not unhappy, then she sighs deeply and I can tell she has so many more questions but doesn't want to ask them now. I stand and walk over to her, reaching down for her hands with mine. She reaches up to me and I pull her up and into an embrace, sighing and breathing in her calm, sure aura. We stand there, holding one another, then she takes a breath and steps back.
"I guess I'll be back in a few days to check on him," she says, and we let each other's hands go slowly.
"Thanks, Scully. But don't come over without checking with me, first. I don't know how safe it is for you here."
"What about you?"
"This place is a fortress, equipped with state-of-the-art security. We're safer here than anywhere," I reply. "They know we're together. I'm not sure how...maybe the office was bugged. Maybe he was being followed. Maybe I was. I dunno. But the only way we're gonna fight this is together. I'll be fine."
She sighs, looking worried, but doesn't say anything more.
"Call me on the cell if you need me," I say, "And I'll call you if we need you...if that's okay?" I do need her. I don't want to, and I wish I didn't, but like always, I do.
"Yes, Mulder, of course it is," she says, sounding somewhat exasperated. "I'd have to hurt you if you didn't."
I smile and she smiles back, and we both sigh with a little more relief.
"I'll call in a 'scrip for some more meds," she says, making herself ready to go, and I nod and lead her over to the door. "Keep an eye on his head injury and watch for concussive symptoms. You know the routine."
I smirk. Yeah, I know the routine. "Be careful," I warn her. "And remember...stay away from here...please. Just call, okay?"
"Okay, Mulder," she replies. She pulls her gun, just in case, and I walk her to the elevator. I give her hand one last squeeze before she pulls back and the doors close. I sigh deeply and walk back into the apartment that I'm going be sharing with Alex Krycek for at least the next couple of weeks...and I have a feeling, longer.
I wake up and have this funny feeling I've been asleep for hours if not days. There's a heaviness in the bed next to me. He stayed. The stupid asshole.
I lift my eyelids off my eyes and turn my head on the pillow slowly to see him, my neck stiff but not as painful through the haze of drugs. He's lying on his side looking at me. I swallow, trying to create some moisture in my very dry mouth. I lick my lips. I don't taste blood. He must've cleaned them off.
"Hi," I whisper.
"Hi," he answers, his expression soft and....
I heard him. I...think I heard him. When Scully was setting my arm. I also saw three Scully fingers and I know from her reaction that I flunked *that* test. Maybe it's just because I wanted to hear it so bad. But here he is. Looking at me like this. I just don't know.
"What'd she give me?" I ask.
"Vicodan, I think," he smiles. "You feelin' good?"
"Better," I sigh.
He reaches out and runs the tip of his finger down my nose. It's funny. They didn't hit me in the nose. So it doesn't hurt. I close my eyes as his finger rests against the tip.
"I'm glad they didn't break your nose," he says and then takes his hand away. "I like your nose, Alex."
"They could have killed you," I say, not giving a fuck about my stupid nose.
"They were *going* to kill *you*," he says with feeling but careful not to raise his voice.
I sigh, not wanting to talk about this now. I'm drugged, my head thick with the medication. I'm not equipped to do this now. I can feel my breathing getting labored with the frustration of not being able to make him understand why *he* cannot be in danger. I'm *walking* danger! We should be like oil and water. But with the way he's looking at me, I can tell he's never going to get that.
"Relax," he tells me, scooting in closer. "I don't want to fight right now, Alex."
I close my eyes as I feel his warm, wet breath against my face. "Me neither," I tell him.
"Good," he says.
I sigh and try shifting my legs under the covers. Doesn't really hurt to move them, but... It registers that I'm not in my jeans anymore. I move my left arm slowly and lift the covers to peer underneath. I'm in my silk pajama bottoms.
"We changed you out of your jeans. That okay?" he asks.
I put the covers back down and look at him. "We?"
"Yeah, uh... Scully helped me. While you were passed out."
I raise my eyebrows at him. He gulps and looks away, then when I don't answer he looks back. "I'm not wearing underwear, Mulder." He averts his eyes again and I try to chase them down with mine without moving my head too much. "Mulder?" Does he think I'm going to be pissed? Because I'm so not. I find it pretty amusing actually.
"Scully saw your penis," he admits in a rush. "But, dammit, Alex, she's a doctor. It's not like she cares."
I pretend to pout. "Not even a little?"
"Well, I'm sure a little..." he stops, looking up at me, realizing I've been playing with him.
"Jerk," he says, frowning, and I smile.
"So who has the good taste, you or her?" I ask. He looks bewildered for a moment. "The PJ's," I clarify.
"Oh. That'd be me."
I nod slightly and feel dizzy, so I lay my head back down, breathing through pursed lips, eyes closing.
"Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?" he asks.
"I gotta take a leak, Mulder," I say plainly and he smiles. I have my eyes shut, so I just feel it.
"Let me help you to the bathroom."
"I can do it," I say stubbornly even as I know deep in my gut that I really can't.
"You can do many things, baby. Right now that ain't one of 'em," he says with compassionate amusement. "Scully doped you to the gills. You could hurt yourself and not know it."
I stare at him. I go for cold and ungiving, but he just quirks his stupid full lips at me. "I'm helping you."
He rolls out of bed away from me and comes over to my side and with much grunting on my part and a tremendously tender touch on his, he gets me to my feet. My silk pajama bottoms swish against my legs as he wraps his arm around my waist and holds my left hand and we shuffle to the bathroom.
Yeah. I'm not moving too well. His arm around me hurts my ribs a little, but I can tell if he weren't holding me I'm so dizzy I'd topple right over. He moves slow with me, mumbling small phrases of encouragement in my ear. I feel like a putz.
I roll my eyes. "This sucks."
He squeezes my hand. "I know. I'm so sorry, Alex."
He shuffles me in front of the toilet and I guess I was hoping he'd leave me wobbling there, but he stays behind me, his arm wrapped around my waist in the front loosely, his other hand letting go of mine to settle lightly in my hair, stroking absently. I feel his breath in my ear, feel the feather-light touch of his lips.
"I so cannot pee with you doing that," I tell him, not making a move to pull out my dick even though I'm dying to.
"You'll fall over. You need me," he mutters, his damned lips caressing behind my ear.
I flash on him leaning over me as Scully manipulated my battered arm... <I love you, Alex.> I'm starting to think he must have said it. You don't help someone pee who you don't love. Do you? Does he?
"I want to go on record as doing this under protest," I sneer.
"Whatever, Alex. Just get on with it so I can get you back in bed. I won't watch you, I promise."
I believe him because his face is buried in the nape of my neck and he's nuzzling my hair.
I chuff an incredibly put out sigh. If he didn't say he loved me, I'm going to be so pissed that I did this in front of him. I reach into my fly, pull out and aim. For a few seconds, nothing happens. I just wanna pee so bad, but I've got stage fright with Mulder pressed up against me.
"Fuck," I mutter under my breath.
"Relax," he whispers against my skin. "It's just me."
I sigh again and just concentrate on the feeling of needing to go and soon I do and I just count the seconds until it's over and I shake off my dick and put it back.
"There. You happy?" I say, irritably.
He kisses my ear, his breath shuddering. "I love you."
I close my eyes. If he weren't holding me, I know I *would* fall over. I feel my irritation leave me like water down a drain. My God... Fox Mulder loves me. Mulder *does* love me.
He loves *me*.
I turn my head into his lips, trying to get my mouth within range of his. The side of my nose touches his and he nuzzles me.
"All because I let you see me take a piss?" I ask, already smiling even though it hurts my face. It doesn't hurt enough. And it feels too good...soul deep good.
He chuckles and I hear it and feel it. And I mean, I *feel* it. I start to get hard.
I open my eyes to see him peer down to look at where I'm starting to tent conspicuously. "Yeah?" he asks, pleased and maybe proud. "On Vicodan even?" He licks his lips still looking between my legs and then raises way-too-happy eyes up to mine again.
"Mulder," I tell him. He's so close. I can feel his heartbeat against my arm. "You decide to tell me you love me while you're pressed up against me. What exactly did you expect was gonna happen?"
He smiles wonderingly at me for a few seconds then says, "Let's get you to bed," in a voice now changed with growing lust. I wonder if he knows we can't do this. I wonder if we *can*.
"Mulder..." I warn as he starts to walk me back into the bedroom. "Just because I can't control my penis..."
His voice is in my ear. "Why don't you let me control it?"
"That line is horrible," I tell him, trying not to laugh because I know it will hurt. Almost as much as sex. What is he thinking?
"Then why is it getting bigger?" he asks.
Because you love me, idiot, and my body responds to that and to you like I haven't just had the crap beaten out of me. I can't help it. Doesn't mean I can do shit about it.
He lays me down gently, avoiding my broken arm and careful of my ribs. He arranges the pillow beneath my head. "You comfortable?" he asks.
"Well...yeah," I say, a little scared now. "But...Mulder, we can't..."
"Shhhhhhh," he hushes, bringing his lips close to my lips. Mine part, ready for his kiss even knowing I shouldn't urge him on. My body craves for his to make love to it. I crave knowing what it feels like to have him touching my body, knowing he's in love with me.
"Did you mean it?" I hear myself ask in a small voice. I think he might be upset by my asking.
A soft smile breaks over his face and he presses his mouth against mine, opening my lips and slipping his tongue inside. He's so soft. Tender. Loving. It hardly hurts my split lips and bruised flesh. Maybe it's part Vicodan, but I have to think it's really just that Mulder in love really knows how to kiss. Not that he didn't drive me crazy before. This is just...different.
He breaks here and there to ask me if I'm feeling okay. He crawls up onto the bed on my left side, still placing slow-motion, gossamer kisses on my lips. "Am I...hurting you...beautiful?"
It brings tears to my eyes and I can't speak. I shake my head slightly and mouth the word no.
He smiles. "Good." He kisses me lightly on the nose. "Good. Relax, baby. I won't let it hurt you. Wanna show you. Have to show you..."
Maybe it's this wounded, vulnerable Alex laid out on the bed, so obviously at my mercy in a way that even with his total submission before, he's never been. Maybe it's because I know that were I in his position, I'd be feeling incredibly helpless and frustrated and angry and, considering his selection of caregivers, not a little bit scared. Whatever it is, I just feel the need to let myself be as loving and honest about my feelings for him as I can be. I think it's pretty simple, actually. I want him to trust me.
"I wish I could kiss you all over," I sigh, looking down at his taped chest and splinted arm, his bruised throat and other arm. "But I guess for tonight I'll have to limit myself to my favorite part." I look into his eyes and I can see that he's trying not to let tears fall, and I'm not sure if it's fear or exhaustion that's causing them. My poor, strong, vulnerable Alex. It must be so incredibly difficult for him to have to rely on me for anything, let alone everything. I'm going to show him how much I want to take care of him.
I lean forward and kiss him once more on his tiny, cute nose. "Where's your soup music?" I ask softly, my lips a scant inch from his, kissing him with my breath only.
"Living room, in the drawer under the stereo," he sighs, his breath shuddering against my lips. It's so damned hard not to just take his mouth. So hard I'm trembling a little with the effort of holding back.
I take a deep breath and carefully roll myself away from him and off the bed, being sure not to jostle him in the process. I know where the stereo is because we danced beside it. My God...was it just a few days ago? I pad my way through the house, barefoot now, and silently make my way to the living room area. I find the drawer he mentioned and open it to find his CD's arranged by artist in alphabetical order. I laugh quietly. It's gonna drive him fuckin' nuts to live with me. I very easily find his Cowboy Junkies CD and put it in the stereo, setting the volume so that the music fills the space, though not too loudly. I feel the soft melodies relaxing my body as I go back to the bedroom area.
His eyes are closed, and I see his chest rising and falling slowly beneath the taping. Is he asleep? I feel a twinge of disappointment, but feel instantly guilty, just glad that he can rest and therefore recover. I go to the side of the bed and start to very carefully, very quietly climb onto it, and his eyes open, his head turning slightly to look at me. He looks like he wants to say something, and I lean forward and place my finger very, very softly on his lips, not really even touching them, just letting my finger's proximity convey my message.
"Just close your eyes, Alex," I say, my voice just naturally lilting with the soothing effects of the music. He blinks several times, sighing, then does it, and I see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids. I hate that he's nervous about this. Around me. But I know I deserve it. I've earned it. I'm gonna earn his trust, though, dammit. And I'm gonna start tonight.
I crawl slowly and carefully down the bed a bit and stop. "I'm going to bring your cock out now, Alex," I say softly, not wanting to startle him with my touch. He whimpers slightly and I watch his erection twitch beneath the soft silk. I settle in on my knees beside his hips and reach into the fly of his pajama bottoms. I very gently close my hands around his velvety, hard, hot length of flesh and pull it out through the fly. I hear his breath hitch as it brushes through the silk of the opening, and I see his stomach muscles try to tense.
"Relax, Alex," I say very softly, still holding his shaft gently in my hand. "Just sink into this. I'm not going to give you too much, baby. I just want to love your cock. Can I do that for you?" He groans softly and his body sinks down into the bed a little, relaxing further even as I feel his dick stiffen a bit more in my hand. I wait for the answer, wanting so badly to do this but not against his will. He doesn't say anything, just breathing hard, and my brow wrinkles with concern. He's afraid. Afraid I'll hurt him.
"Alex, my Alex," I say softly, bending close to his cock but not yet putting my lips on it. "Please, please, I know I don't deserve it, but please just trust me." I feel the tears build in my own eyes and my voice is choked. "I swear I won't hurt you."
"Mulder," he says, obviously pained. I look up and into eyes gleaming with tears. "I do trust you. I do." He swallows, and I'm sorry to have caused him the pain. "Do it, Mulder. Please."
I smile gratefully and wipe away my own tears, then lean forward and brush away his, my other hand still holding his erection in a firm, tender embrace. Then I very slowly, gently, without any teasing at all, bend and place a tender kiss on the tip of his cock.
"Uhh!" he groans, but he doesn't tense, just letting the sensation wash through his body.
I know the Vicodin is helping him go with this. I'm so grateful for that. I kiss his cock again then mouth against it, "Good, good, baby, just relax." He's making little closed-mouth, high whining sounds now as I open my mouth and press my tongue against the silken head of him, licking him with gentle, warm, loving strokes then closing my lips and kissing him again. I'm humming through my nose as the drool collects under my tongue. He tastes so good, feels so good, and the soft, helpless noises he makes are causing my own cock to go rock-hard where it's confined in my pants. It would be more comfortable to be naked, but this is not about me. It's all about him. I'm not even sure I'll take him to orgasm. If we get there, we get there, but I'll make sure it's slow and careful, and as gentle as I can possibly make it.
I lick down the length of his shaft now and back up again, as if it were the tallest ice cream I'd ever had. I place little, sucking kisses on the tender skin up and down his length until I'm too hungry not to have him in my mouth. I drag the flat of my tongue up the underside of his shaft, hearing him groan all the way up, then close my mouth over him completely, humming as I suck him in as deeply as I can, still gentle, though firm. I feel him try to buck up into my mouth a little and brush my hand just barely over his hip, growling a little warning against the cock-flesh in my mouth, and he aborts the attempt and sinks back into the bed with a gasp. I hum in approval and move my tongue against him, beginning to move my head up and down, fucking him with my mouth, slowly and gently.
"Oh God," I hear him say above me. "Ohgodohgodohgod, Mulder!" And I moan against him, moving slow and enjoying the feel of his flesh dragging against my tongue, sliding against my lips, the taste of him, warm in my mouth, his precum leaving a slick tang on my tongue that lets me know he's getting close. I guess I will be making him come tonight.
I pull off him slowly, giving the tip of his cock a few more loving licks as I speak. "I want you to come, baby, but please...try to relax. Can you do that for me?" I kiss the head of his cock as I hear him answer me with a hissing "Yessss..." I smile and open wide, sucking him down as far as I can stand. I suck him to the tip, then go deep again, then suck him to the tip again, and I can't help but talk to him when my lips get a moment of freedom at the end of each stroke. It's just so good to do this for him.
"Mmm...taste..." Down and suck and lick "...so good, Alex.." down and suck and down and suck "MMm...love to suck you..."down and suck and down and suck and down and he's making an open-mouthed, groaning "Ohhhhhhh!" sound now and I hum in reply, moving my mouth faster against him and in that moment I know I want him to come in my mouth. I want to give him that and I want to have that. Moving my mouth quickly, I mumble against him, "Come in my mouth, Alex. Come in my mouth. Do it."
I don't have time to worry if he could understand me around the sucking and slurping as I feel his cock start to swell even larger in my mouth, then I feel the pulses as the semen shoots its way to the end of his cock and spurts into my mouth, over my tongue and against the insides of my cheeks. Alex's mouth is open and yelling my name, his body still held down on the bed, all the tension and ferocity of his orgasm expressed through his long, hard scream. God his poor throat. I didn't even think about that. Sorry, Alex.
The experience of him coming in my mouth is amazing. Feeling him come against my lips and tongue like that damned near brings me off, too, and I groan, high and needy against his flesh, feeling my dick throb as he empties into my mouth. The taste is tangy and bitter, and it's warmer than skin, and I can't quite make myself swallow it, so I let it run out of my mouth and down his cock, smearing all over my nose and lips and chin as I gently work the last of the throbs from him, savoring the panting whimpers.
I pull off him slowly and carefully, giving him a few last, parting kisses, knowing his flesh is oversensitive now but not being quite ready to give up the feeling of him against my lips. I sigh and breath heavily, catching my breath, and raise up on my arms. I can't imagine what I must look like with Alex's cum all over my face, a dopey smile and heavy lidded eyes making me look as dazed as I feel. Alex's eyes are closed, so he hasn't seen me yet, and I watch him pant and catch his breath for a few moments, then I ask, smiling, "So...do you think I'm getting better at this?"
Do I *what*??? I can't think at ALL! I came into the same mouth that told me he loves me. "Loving me makes you immeasurably better," I'm able to tell him, but barely. I'm still trying to catch my breath. "And you didn't hear me complaining before, did you?" I open my eyes and see him. His chin and lips are glistening with my cum and he's smiling tiredly at me from over my cock. I smile back. "Is it uncouth to say you look incredible with come all over you?"
"Not when it's yours."
My smile gets wider and I reach out my hand to him, sorry I can't use both arms to hold him. He takes my hand in his and scoots in closer. I tug on him and he looks at me, puzzled. I reach behind his head and pull him down to me and before he can protest, I kiss him. I open my mouth and suck on his lips then swipe inside and indulge myself in a deep exploration of his mouth that makes him groan into me. I don't mind tasting myself. I've done it before. And I like the idea of cleaning myself off of him. It's the least I can do and it's worth it to feel him stiffen against me in surprise.
I let go of his mouth and let my lips travel over his chin and cheeks, lapping up the evidence that Fox Mulder gave me head and loving him the only way I can at the same time.
Or maybe it's not.
I put my lips to his ear, pulling his hair to get him down close enough that I don't have to lift my head. "Mulder...baby..." I'm already so turned on again by the thought that my voice is a ragged whisper. "Straddle my face. Fuck my mouth. I can do it. Just don't go down my throat. Please?"
"Alex. No," he says, pulling up to look at me. I can't stop the begging look that drapes over my features. I want him in my mouth so bad. I want to do this for him.
"I just can't lift my head," I plead. "But you can do my mouth. Mulder, I want to do this."
"I'm not saying you don't, baby, but I'm not going to let you. I'll hurt you."
He starts to get up off the bed and I grab at his arm. "Mulder..."
"No." It's not open for discussion. His no is definite. It hurts my heart.
And then he stands up to his full height beside the bed. Looking at me, he reaches down, taking the bottom of his T-shirt in his hands, and strips it off over his head. He throws it blindly to the side and starts to unbutton his button fly. He's staring into my eyes. He pushes his underwear down to free his large, erect dick.
"Oh Christ," I whisper and swallow. My own cock is getting heavy with blood and heat and him and is rising up against my thigh. He glances down at it, but then looks back up at my face, into my eyes.
He starts to pull.
I whine and look down at his graceful, powerful hand wrapping around his girth. He's lazy about it, not gripping, just playing with it. Up and down. Slide to the base, squeeze a little to the top. I look back into his eyes and the corner of his lips turns up slightly, wickedly. He looks back down to my once-again-stiff shaft and licks his lips. Then he's back to my face.
And he starts to go harder. He's squeezing himself and his hooded eyes are so soft and hot on mine. He doesn't say anything with anything other than his breathing and his look, but I know him. This is what I do to him. This is what he's always done when he thinks about me.
His speed increases and he shuffles his feet wider, bending his knees just a little. He reaches his left hand down to fondle his balls. I'm looking at him standing next to me, both hands between his legs, his proud cock leaking, his eyes eating me alive, his mouth slightly open and emitting these hot grunts of exertion and lust.
He peeks back down at my dick again and starts to pulse his hips lightly, fucking his fist, his dick aimed right at my face. Like I'd wanted. Just when I think it, he looks at my mouth. Zeros in on it. Concentrates on it.
I make my tongue hard and extend just the tip with my mouth open and slowly tongue the air up and down. He cries out and his thrusting goes erratic for a moment. He look up into my eyes, panting now. I drop my gaze to his hand working his straining erection.
I mouth the words, 'Want it.'
"Ggguuuh!" he moans, fist flying now, making a delicious slapping sound. I can't believe I'm getting to see Mulder do himself. How many nights have I masturbated and thought of exactly this. He's perfection.
I look into his eyes and smile. 'I love you,' my lips say now and Mulder closes his eyes, throws back his head and comes, howling.
"Oh fuck! Aleh...Fuck me...Oh yeah...Kruh...Yyyyyyyeahohgod..."
He shoots all over his hands and my floor. I watch it spurt out of his cock, raptly, wishing I was closer. Fuck, I hate those thugs for not letting me taste my lover. I'll break their legs. I will. Goddamn, I just want him. I want to bite on that bared throat while he moans, lave his nipples til they're tight and sore....
When his climax is over and he tilts his head back down to look at me, I hold out my good hand. "Jesus, c'mere..."
He smirks and obeys, thank God, or else I'd have to hurt *him*. I grab for his hands and bring them both to my mouth as he stands tall over me at my side. He looks down at me patiently, a contented smile on his lips, as I suck his cum off his fingers, slurping and moaning. When I'm done, I keep kissing his big, warm hands and tell him roughly, "Undress. Come to bed."
He smiles bigger and teases, "Topping from the bottom, Alex?" and steals his hands away to divest himself of his jeans and boxers, throwing them aside. Bottom am I? Yeah, okay, I am. And I love it here as long as he's the one over me. Mostly. It's something we have to discuss. Later. Right now I just want him close. He can't spend one more minute out of this bed. Out of my life. Shit, I can't not have him.
Naked now, he crawls in beside me. I reach for him too quickly and feel it all through my ribs. I wince and go still.
He touches my forehead, petting. "Please don't hurt yourself," he coos, worried. "I want to be close, too. I want to hold you... But Alex, you have to lie still and let me."
I nod, disgruntled, but hold still as he settles next to me on his side, his left arm draping lightly over my middle, his right hand sifting through my hair, his slim hips and spent dick pressed deliciously against my own hip, chest against my good arm.
I turn my head to see him. We look at each other in the dark for long, silent moments. Then he speaks, low and gentle.
"I'm staying. And they'll never...*never*...hurt my Alex again." He leans in and kisses my brow. "I love you." The sacred words are murmured against my skin. I take a breath to tell him I love him, too, but he doesn't let me. "Don't argue, Krycek." He's smiling. I can feel it. "Sleep, baby. Sleep now."
As if the suggestion were more powerful than any drug, I feel myself grow heavy and docile. And consciousness slips away.
End of Chapter 5
Chapter Six
medrul: Did you take your vitamin today?
hidingnthelight: We were in the kitchen and you were up against my ass as I took it, love, or don't you remember?
hidingnthelight: Slacking off on the job again, huh G-man? What, Scully in the room so you can't zone out on your porn?
medrul: Hmm...ya know, I haven't even *opened* that drawer in weeks. Guess I don't need it anymore.
hidingnthelight: Sweet talker.
medrul: I don't think I could handle any porn, honestly. I can barely keep up with your horny ass. Literally.
hidingnthelight: Oh it's me, is it? You're delusional. Who got the hard-on watching that Allegra ad the other night? The chick in the lawn chair with the allergies? I mean, please.
medrul: Yeah, I'm sure it had NOTHING to do with the fact that you were very casually sitting on the floor at my feet, leaning against my thigh, breathing on me.
medrul: *Watching* my dick get hard.
hidingnthelight: Is it hard right now? Where *is* Scully anyway? Why *aren't* you working? Not that I'm complaining.
medrul: Scully's upstairs helping Pendrell figure out what *appears* to be a very complex interlocking set of viruses. And it'd be harder if you were here to watch it.
hidingnthelight: Do you want me to swing by on your lunch hour? Do a little more than watch it?
medrul: Oh God...Alex...just the *thought* of you here, at my feet, under my desk....FUCK.
hidingnthelight: Exactly.
hidingnthelight: Like they'd even let my ass in the fucking door. That's a laugh. Not that I couldn't find a way if you were in need of my services.
medrul: Would you really do that...for me...break into FBI Headquarters just to kneel under my desk?
hidingnthelight: Yes.
medrul: How the FUCK am I supposed to get ANYTHING done at this desk now, imagining you under it?
medrul: And hey...don't you fucking DARE put yourself at that kind of risk just to suck me off. I mean it. Don't. You. Dare.
hidingnthelight: Okay, now *I'm* hard. I don't know whether to obey and sit here and jack-off or ignore that incredibly sexy tone of voice and get my hungry cocksucking mouth down between your thighs as soon as possible, your anger at me, whatever form that takes, suffered just so long as I can have your dick between my lips.
medrul: I wouldn't *really* be *that* angry...I know you're good at what you do...I mean, as far as not getting caught breaking in. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't have to punish you...after I came down your throat, of course.
hidingnthelight: How?
medrul: With your wild, dark hair gripped tight in both hands, cock lodged firmly in your mouth, I expect.
hidingnthelight: That's very nice. More than nice. That's goddamned perfect. But that's not exactly what I meant, Mulder.
hidingnthelight: How.
medrul: You want to know *how* I would punish you? Specifically? Seriously?
hidingnthelight: Yes. I do.
hidingnthelight: That a problem?medrul: Is it...are you afraid of me, Alex? I'm sorry if I went over the line with the teasing about punishing you...I really didn't mean anything by it.
hidingnthelight: What are you talking about, afraid of you? You didn't go over any line. Honestly, you can't even *see* the line from where you're at, Mulder. I'm not upset that you were talking about punishment. I was wishing you were here to carry it out.
medrul: Oh.
hidingnthelight: I'd forgotten that we'd already kind of discussed this...that you've already made it clear you don't want that. To hit me again even in play. I'm sorry the idea upsets you, Mulder.
medrul: I'm surprised it doesn't upset you, I guess. Given our past.
hidingnthelight : It's never upset me. I know that must be difficult for you to wrap your mind around. I need you to know something. I don't want this to sound like an insult. I'm not sure how to even say this, but...
medrul : But what? Just say it, for God's sake!
hidingnthelight : I can take you, Mulder. I always could.
medrul : I just got very turned on.
hidingnthelight : You don't believe me, do you?
medrul : I guess I never really thought about it.
hidingnthelight : No, you just slammed me up against the hoods of cars and phone banks and never considered I might *want* your fucking unbelievable body pressed up against mine.
medrul : Alex, as much as you talking like that turns me on, and as much as that might have been true, my fists bloodying your nose probably weren't part of the fantasy.
hidingnthelight : Are you going to think I'm a sick fuck if I tell you that in some part they were?
medrul : Me calling you a sick fuck wouldn't really be fair considering the greeting I gave you when you showed up at my apartment that first time.
hidingnthelight : Do you remember what I told you about that night, Mulder?
medrul : I've read it over dozens of times.
hidingnthelight : What happened, what you did...was a benediction. It started a healing. It hurt, but... It had to.
medrul : It had to?
hidingnthelight : Mulder, we couldn't have gotten *here* if it had been any other way. The scales are already tilted obscenely against me...against any idea of us. For what I've done to you...there has...had to be a reckoning.
hidingnthelight : And before you had me that way, you believed that, too.
medrul : Yeah, I did.
medrul : I know...deep down in parts of me I don't like to think about...that what you're saying is right. It's just...that's not a 'me' I ever want to be again.
medrul : I want you to know that, before we even start talking about this. This...if we do it...this is different.
medrul : Do you know much about D/s?
hidingnthelight : Do you, Mulder?
medrul : Uh yeah, I think I do.
medrul : I've had some rather negative experiences as the bottom, and have never really Topped anyone but strangers. Your turn.
hidingnthelight : I think you know I've had my own negative experiences bottoming for someone else. I wasn't given a choice, exactly. I guess that doesn't even really count.
medrul : No, it doesn't. My experiences fall under the rubric of BDSM...I don't think yours do, unless you had partners you trusted...even somewhat...to keep you safe. Safe, sane, and consensual. Those are the key words, you know.
medrul : I'll admit that what I got involved in went past the lines of sane and sometimes even safe, but it was always consensual. I was stupid enough to keep asking for more. That's the difference.
hidingnthelight : Are you saying...would you entertain the idea of doing this with me? I didn't bring up being able to...take you, for lack of a better phrase, as some kind of ego thing. I just want you to know...to feel safe in that. If you want to do this. If you lose control, and we keep going, it's because I want it.
medrul : I won't lose control.
hidingnthelight : So is that a yes?
hidingnthelight : Baby? It's okay if you don't... I mean, I want it. I really want it, but it's all right if you can't.
medrul : I can.
medrul : With your background, I want to make sure you want what I'm willing to give.
hidingnthelight : Maybe we should get together and talk about this. I don't suppose there's any way you could be sick and come home? (I'm batting my eyelashes coquettishly at you now.)
medrul : We *should* talk about this, but take me seriously, Alex. I take my responsibilities as a Top *very* seriously. I'm not playing, now.
hidingnthelight : Okay. I understand. I appreciate that, Mulder. I just...I can't help that your tone of voice gets me hot. I'm sorry.
medrul : There's more to being your Dom than punishing you. I hurt you, I command you, I use you, but I also take care of you. Your welfare now sits in my hands. You're mine.
hidingnthelight : I think I'm okay with that.
medrul : We'll talk about when you'll kneel for me and when you won't.
medrul : And we'll discuss your limits and mine. Your needs and wants and mine.
hidingnthelight : k
medrul : I'll get you a collar, unless that's a problem. When I put it on you, you become MINE.
hidingnthelight : sgood
medrul : So...you want to be punished, pet?
hidingnthelight : wait...i'mgggggggggggggggggggggg
hidingnthelight : Shit. Sorry. I, uh...
medrul : Yes?
hidingnthelight : I came.
hidingnthelight : I'm sorry.
medrul : So you were jacking off while I was speaking to you.
hidingnthelight : I...
hidingnthelight : Yes.
hidingnthelight : Well...
medrul : I didn't give you permission to do that.
medrul : I don't even remember you *asking* for permission.
medrul : You haven't had very good training, it seems.
hidingnthelight : I know enough to know what will get me punished and what won't.
hidingnthelight : Are you a strong enough Master to handle me?
medrul : I guess you're about to find out. Push your cum-spattered jeans down your thighs and get on your knees.
hidingnthelight : Oh God...yes, Master.
medrul : Yeah, that's what I thought.
medrul : Crawl over here to my chair. Keep your head down.
hidingnthelight : I'll have to to make sure my *cast* doesn't bump anything.
medrul : Yes, you will. The 'thump' would be very annoying. Now get your lily-white ass over here.
hidingnthelight : I crawl over to you. Slowly. When I reach your side, I look up to see if you're as hard as I am.
hidingnthelight : May I touch it?
medrul : No.
hidingnthelight : What will you do if I lean in...and just breathe against your stiff cock. Just put my mouth close...my nose, so I can smell you...
medrul: Grab you by the hair, pull you over my knee, then give you a smack on the ass so sharp they can hear it upstairs. Then I'll admire the bright red handprint on your bare, white cheek.
hidingnthelight: Oh fucking God...
hidingnthelight: My cock will be thrust into your leg when you hit me. Oh it's gonna hurt, but it's gonna feel good.
medrul: My hand stings, then it keeps tingling after the blow. And having you on my lap, *asking* for it...*begging* for it...is so fucking good. Makes me drool.
hidingnthelight: Please... If I lift my ass up...bare myself to you...will you please do it again? Hurt me, Mulder. Please.
medrul: My hand lands on your other cheek with an even louder >smack<, and the feel of your silky skin against my hand just makes me wanna hit it again. So I do.
hidingnthelight: Come home. Please. Just...be sick, dammit.
medrul: I reach under you with my left hand and find that you're rock-hard and slick with pre-cum. You squirm against my hand, whining, and I squeeze you, hard, making you gasp. I smirk at what a slut you are and drag the fingers of my right hand up between your cheeks, enjoying your shameless writhing, before slapping your ass again, suddenly. Hard.
medrul: Get your hand off your dick. You're saving the next one for me.
hidingnthelight: Oh FUCK! No, Mulder, please!
medrul: Okay, let's put it this way, pet. I can make you come now, or I can make you come later. But you don't get both.
hidingnthelight: Shit... Fine. I won't. I won't come. Whatever you want. God, I hurt. My cock hurts. Please come home. Please come home and fuck me.
medrul: Maybe I should slide this pre-cum covered hand out from under your body and put it over your dirty little mouth so I can get back to this punishment in peace.
medrul: That's better.
medrul: My hand is sticky, though. Lick me clean.
hidingnthelight: Mmmmyes... Thank you. I'll lick you. I'll suck your fingers like I sucked your cock. If I lift my ass up and whine while I do it, will you stroke over my asshole again? Will you finger my hole a little before you spank me again?
medrul: Greedy little slut, aren't you? Maybe...if you take these next ten strokes well.
medrul: They're harder, making my own hand ache, and they're getting faster and faster, barely turning your ass white with the blows in between the blood rushing back, turning it bright pink. Your pretty little ass is getting awfully red and hot against my hand.
hidingnthelight: Oh Christ...yeah, it's hot. It stings. I feel...so helpless...embarrassed. What if someone walks in and sees you beating on my ass...sees me crying...my asscheeks quivering. God, I could come without touching myself. I need you to stop. I don't want to come, Mulder. Please.
medrul: *Now* I decide to brush the pad of my middle finger up between your cheeks, then circle it on the hot little opening to your body. If you come, pet, you won't get to know what this feels like for real. Don't. Come.
hidingnthelight: All right. All right. I want this so bad. I won't let myself. I promise.
medrul: Good. Because you need about forty more strokes before you're done.
medrul: Maybe I'll reach underneath you and grab you around the base of that juicy cock of yours, squeezing hard to keep you from coming, while I suck my finger into my mouth to get it wet and slick before putting it between your asscheeks and pushing it into your hole a little ways.
medrul: You may now make all the noise you like, but DON'T MOVE.
hidingnthelight: aaaaahhhhhhhhgodmulderplease...mulderpleeeeasefuckme!
medrul: I like having you like this. Draped over my knee, panting, gasping, whining, and begging. I feel like you're *MINE* and I can do whatever I want to you and you'll like it.
hidingnthelight: I am yours. I'm yours. Believe it. Please...I want to know how much you own me, Mulder.
medrul: I'm going to finish spanking you now, hard and fast, still gripping your cock so you don't come. Because *that's* your real punishment. Not getting to come. Maybe next time you won't be such a smart-ass.
hidingnthelight: I won't...I promise...I'm sorry...please...
medrul: After I'm all done, and you're panting and shaking and shivering, I bend forward and sink my teeth into one perfect, white cheek, leaving a nice bite-bruise there to remind you who you belong to when I leave.
hidingnthelight : When you leave?medrul : When I go home, back to my apartment.
hidingnthelight : When...are you going to do that?
medrul : Well, actually, I was thinking...except for your broken arm, you're basically healed up...
hidingnthelight : Yeah. You're right. I'm healed. I guess there's no reason. For you to stay I mean.
medrul : Well, I only moved in on you because you needed someone to take care of you...it's your damned house!
hidingnthelight : It is. Isn't it?
medrul : Yes, it is.
hidingnthelight : I'm glad we've established that.
medrul : I guess I've been there long enough already. I suppose I could get out by tomorrow.
hidingnthelight : No.
medrul : So...you want me to just go home now and pick up my shit later? What the hell are you getting at, Alex?
hidingnthelight : Don't you get it, Mulder? I don't want you to go at all. I want you to stay. Stay with me, Mulder. It's my home and I want you in it. Always. I'm asking you to live with me.
medrul : God...Alex...
hidingnthelight : Please. Come home.
medrul : I'm leaving now.
medrul signed off at 4:43 PM .
I'm leaving now.
*I'm* leaving now.
I'm leaving *now*.
I'm *leaving* now.
I shudder at that last one. Dammit, Mulder. What the FUCK did you mean by that? I was not meant for tenterhooks. I put other people on them. Even as I've fairly manipulated him into Domming me, I'm not used to the loss of control, being in this kind of psychological freefall. Waiting. Simmering in inaction. Does he know the test he's given me merely by virtue of his enigmatic response? Thinking of him spanking me, ordering me to my knees, cuffing me, hitting me...these things are easy. Making me wait for his answer... That. Is not so easy.
I run the fingers of my left hand through my hair, my right still made pretty much useless by the cast Scully put me in when she came back with more pain meds for me. I feel like my whole body is my right arm. I pace my apartment, barefoot. Useless.
I've asked Mulder to live with me. A man commited to one thing and one thing only, who is blinded by that obsession and that search. True, it's my life's work, too. He's accepted me into that part of his world. And now I ask more of him. As soon as he gives, I'm always there to ask for more. I wonder if this is the deal breaker. The point at which Mulder burns away like boiling liquid, turns to vapor, and disappears out of my life.
I need air. If he's going to come here and look at me pityingly or from behind a veil of fear and break it off, then I need to be ready for that. I feel like the walls are closing in on me in this open, airy, spacious room. I pad across the hardwood floor to the balcony. The wind hits me as soon as I open the door. At this height, it's colder, harsher. It brings my nipples to an almost painful tightness under my white T. My cock which had been so thick and hard and ready for him, cowers under the cold, and that's okay with me. If he's going to break up with me, I'm at least not going to give him the satisfaction of my uncontrollable boner.
I walk out into the golden late afternoon sun, not warming my skin. But it's warm to my eyes as it sparkles against the skyscrapers and glints on the river water in the distance. I love my home. I love Mulder. I want to share this with him. To keep sharing what we've already had the past two weeks. I want him to want it...me.
I hear the code key being punched in from the panel outside and am startled out of my thoughts.
Jesus, he's here.
All thought ceases, and pure physical response takes its place, adrenaline flooding my body as always happens when Mulder's near. I turn to face the door as it starts to open and he steps through.
He comes in and we face each other. He's so far away, the entire expanse of room and half the balcony separating us. He's not in his jacket and his stark white sleeves are rolled up almost to his elbows. His tie is loose. I can't see the look on his face. All I know is he's not moving. I hold my breath.
I realize I'm speeding down the street and slow down the car, hoping driving time will give me the chance to actually figure out what I'm going to *tell* him.
He's asked me to *live with* him. Alex Krycek wants to shack up. With Special Agent Fox Mulder. Okay, how fucked up is that? What's he thinking? I'm a federal agent! And he...he's a liar, a murderer, a traitor, and a thief.
And I love him.
Dear God in Heaven.
And...I don't want to leave. I've visited my apartment twice since setting up housekeeping in what I've come to think of as the "Fortress in the Sky." I thought I'd feel a pang of homesickness...a need to re-greet my things, my space...my fish. But it's so empty there, and so quiet. And the fish are doing fine with one of those two-week vacation blocks. Thank God for those, little marine friends. They've kept you alive more times than you wanna know. But back to my place...the two times I went back there to pick up my stuff, I really just couldn't wait to leave. To get back to Alex's place. To get back to Alex.
I knew he'd be there, see. He hasn't been allowed to leave since the attack. I only went back to work myself a week ago. And each night, when I punch in the code on the front door, I know he'll be waiting for me, rising up off his white leather sofa so gracefully despite his cast, a smile so warm and loving and welcoming that I can't help but smile in return. Never has anything felt so much like coming home. I never thought I'd want that. But it's damned addictive, let me tell you. And the sex is damned fine. Damned fine.
I do want to stay. But thinking about agreeing to *live together* just makes me feel cold, shaky, sick. I haven't lived with anyone since Diana. Oh God, Diana. That was three months of surreality. Yeah, even though I took my vows on a breath of pure scotch, I stuck it out for three months. It was...ookie. If you know what I mean. It never felt right, I never felt good, and I never, ever relaxed. It was like three months of visiting your aunt Violet who makes you cookies and dusts off the couch absently when you get up from it.
Staying with Alex hasn't been like that. Although the little prick is beyond obsessive about neatness and order. You should see him, down on his knees, leaning forward to rub violently at a tiny smudge on his highly polished wood floors. And I mean that. You should *see* that ass, stretching those tight black jeans, those strong thighs spread just slightly for balance, those strong, graceful bare feet, the muscles in his back as he scrubs...but lovely scenery aside, he's gonna have to tolerate a lot more clutter if I'm gonna stay with him. I can't handle the big, empty, bare, neat spaces. And I've got *stuff* to bring into this household.
Ack. Household. As in one household with two members. Dear God...I'll be arguing over groceries and musical tastes and channels on the satellite dish...and we'll be curled up on the couch together...I'll be feeling his breath, feeling his warmth, smelling his scent...hearing that sweet, deep little sigh as he leans in for another kiss...
I guess it makes sense. To live there rather than maintain two households. It's safer there, after all, with all that security protecting us from those who would love to use our new relationship as a way to destroy both of us. My Alex has taken every safety measure money can buy.
Blood money. Lots of it.
But I knew that going in, and still I went. And if we're going to be totally honest here, my own upbringing was probably funded by the same Godforsaken sources. So, hey, what's new?
I sigh and pull up to the parking valet. She stands there, looking at me expectantly, then away to give me space, then back again to see if I'm ready to disembark. I step out of the car and hand her the keys. I find my fingers pressed to my lips as I walk to the elevator. As I punch in the new codes to disable the security that keeps people from coming up to the penthouse without authorization, the fear hits.
What if...I've spent all this time, scared to make any kind of committment to him...and what if *he's* the one up there, right now, kicking himself for making such a grand overture? What if he's trying to figure out a way to take back his offer...oh God, the way he did the night I came here and found him bleeding in his own elevator.
I wouldn't put it past him. Post-spanking euphoria making him do something as insane as asking his ex-enemy to *live* under his roof. Maybe I should offer him an out. Let him know it's not set in stone...hell, I haven't given him an answer, anyway. Maybe I'll just feel him out, leave it open so if he wants to back out, he can.
I punch in the code, picturing him rising up off the couch, as usual. I push the door open.
Except he's not there. I step in and close the door behind me, scanning the area a moment.
Oh. He's on the balcony. Looking this way.
He *does* want out. My claustrophobic Alex is already feeling closed-in, trapped, cornered. I take a deep breath and the familiar jolt of electric current locks our gazes. He's just staring at me. Like an animal in a cage. I rub my hands over my mouth, truly scared to walk across his sparkling apartment and feel his regret. I decide to give him the opportunity to make the first move.
And I wait.
What's the matter, Mulder? Feet so cold they've frozen and now you can't even walk?
Again, I run nervous and kinda pissed fingers through my hair, surely making outrageous spikes, but I don't care.
I love your hair like this, Alex. Makes me wanna fuck you again.
I shake the sweet murmur in my ear away. He can't even come out here to me, to my turf, to end this? Fine. I'll come in, Mulder. I'll come to you. I'll always come to you, asshole.
I walk in through the door and turn around to shut it, leaning my forehead against the fine, finished wood and glass for a moment before I turn to him.
"Come in. Stay awhile," I say, my voice lacking tenderness, reflecting the chill I feel coming off of him in sick waves.
"Thanks," he nods, stepping in.
You think I'm fooled by that, Mulder? You think I don't know that in your heart you're running away in the other direction as fast as you fucking can?
"It's okay, Alex," he tells me, nodding again, smile phony. "I'm cool, you know. With not..."
"Not what?" I ask coldly, putting my left hand in my pocket, cursing that the other remains exposed, vulnerable.
"You know," he hedges, trying to look relaxed. "Not *actually* living together. It's cool. I know you were just..."
"Just *what*?" I ask, quelling the sharp sting behind my eyes.
"Just..." his smile falters and I see something else. Hurt? "Just talking," he finishes, looking deeply into my eyes. What does he want to see? That he's stabbed me full force in the heart?
"I think I get it, Mulder."
His mouth opens and his brow furrows.
"I'm gonna have a beer. How about you?" One for the road, lover?
My heart is pounding. It hurts. It's closing. I can feel it. I don't let myself cry. I can feel the tears building in my throat, but I don't allow them. I just walk away from the most precious, important thing I've ever known and pad into the kitchen, throwing the stainless steel door open on my refrigerator.
I glance back surreptitiously to see that he's followed me. His face...God, his face is fallen, sad, confused, helpless. I turn back to the cold interior of the fridge. I'm hurting him. I'm *hurting* my Mulder. I don't want to. I don't want this. Mulder, stop me. Please don't let this happen.
As if he hears my thoughts, I feel him so close behind me. I can feel his fast breath near my neck.
"Alex..."
I hand him the bottle without looking at him and twist the cap off my own as I pass him. "Cheers, Mulder. You can pack your things now if you want. I'll be on the balcony if you want a blow-job good-bye."
I'm almost to the balcony door when I hear the glass shatter explosively behind me. I stop. I'm afraid to turn around.
"Stop!"
I don't know why he said that. I'm not moving.
"What the fuck are you doing? Is this your way of giving *me* an out?"
I still don't turn around. I can't. I can't even breathe.
"Hey, I have an idea, Alex!" he says, frighteningly bright. "Why don't you let *me* tell you what my answer is, instead of just deciding that it's no and cutting us both off at the knees?"
I regret the mess of broken glass and beer the minute the bottle smashes into the floor, but I couldn't seem to think of any other way to stop him from walking out on me. From forcing me to walk out on him.
"You're...not leaving?" His voice is soft, barely audible. Turn around, Goddamn it, Alex. Let me see your eyes. He's standing in front of his huge picture-windows, and I can almost read him by watching his reflection. But not quite.
"Are you kicking me out?" I counter, my voice harder than I want it to be.
Now he turns around. "No," he whispers. And I see that his eyes are wet, lashes stuck together with tears.
My own voice is infinitely more soft and gentle than my words as I step in closer to him. "Then what the fuck are you doing to us?"
I can see my words have struck home. His eyes widen and he swallows. "I was just...when you told me you didn't take me seriously...I thought it was your way of..." He trails off and looks down at my feet. "I thought I'd asked too much. I thought that was it. You were leaving me." His last words are raspy, choked. I feel myself blink rapidly in response, the pain in them contagious.
I take a deep breath in, then let it out, then another. After all, on the drive over here, I was half-afraid he had asked too much of me, too. But now, after watching him nearly end it all, feeling a taste of what it might be like to lose him, I have my answer. I step in again, narrowing my eyes, causing him to look up quickly. I take another step, staring him down, and he takes a half-step back. I let him see the anger his words have spawned...anger that he could expect so little of me...anger at the way nothing is ever easy between us...anger at him for nearly ending it, just so I wouldn't do it first. I see the moment it registers, and he takes another step back, coming up against the chilled glass of his window. I see his quick intake of breath and the panic in his eyes as I take the last step in, closing the distance between us.
"I want to stay with you, Alex," I say in a low rush of breath and words. And as his lips part in surprise, I lean in and take them.
I barely register his words. He's eating my mouth, devouring me, plunging in and taking me, pushing me with his mouth so that my head bangs up against the window. He's angry. But... He said he...wants to stay with me.
I moan desperately into his mouth as the realization first hits. My mouth goes slack; I'd been tense before, almost fighting him, a gut instinct against his anger with me and his forcefulness. My mouth opens for him, the tears streaming freely down my face. Oh God, he *wants* this. He *does* want this. Oh God...
I try to pull my mouth away. "Muhller...mmmmmso sorry..."
But that's all he lets me have. He presses his mouth down on mine relentlessly. His hands slide quickly up my shirt and push on my chest. The glass rattles behind me. And he keeps kissing me, his wet tongue stroking over mine, around it. I feel light-headed. Nobody's ever kissed me like Mulder. I know who I am when he kisses me.
Just when I've relaxed into his masterful touch, he turns me, hands still inside my shirt, ripping his mouth from mine, and pushes me roughly against the glass. My hands hit and the cast makes a loud thud. His lips are at my ear instantly.
"Do you think," I growl, giving his earlobe a quick, sharp bite which earns me a delicious gasp, "that after all we've been through," I stick my tongue inside deeply, making him shiver and writhe, which in turn makes me shove against him harder, holding him immobile, "that you asking me to live with you was the thing that was going to *push*" I thrust hard against his ass and he grunts, his breath making a fog on the glass, "me away for good?"
"I...dunnnnoooo..." he gasps as I sink my teeth into his sweet spot, grinding against him.
"Then why don't you just shut up and let *me* do the thinking for awhile?" I whisper harshly in his ear, and I immediately feel him nod frantically. I give another, harder thrust against his ass, and his forehead hits the glass with a dull thud as he tries to brace himself with it. Must be hard to do with just the one good arm. It'll help a lot when I reach around and grab his cock, holding him up while I fuck him. I reach down and roughly unbutton his jeans and he starts to whimper, spreading his legs a little before I even pull him out. No underwear. Slut. I smile against the side of his neck in approval and reward him by sliding the pads of my fingertips gently up and down his stiff cock from tip to base. "Easy access," I whisper with a smile in my voice. "Nice." He moans in reply, pushing into my touch. I treat him to a few more long, firm strokes topped off with some slow, hard squeezes that have him groaning and moving his hips, then I release him abruptly. Before he can do anything more than whine about it, I'm jerking his jeans down, then placing my shoe between his legs on top of them, shoving them down.
"Step out of 'em," I tell him, wrapping one hand around to hold him up by the dick, the other holding his middle firmly as he obediently lifts first one bare foot, then other, out of the wrinkled black denim. Once they're off, I kick them away and kick his legs farther apart. I'm reminded for one horrible moment of our first time together, and as much to show myself as to show him how different this is, I slide my left hand, the one *not* wrapped snugly around his cock, up and down the front of his body, worshipping and claiming it lovingly. He gasps and leans back against me, and I lean in and whisper very quietly in his ear, "I love you, you little shit," and give his dick a squeeze before letting go and stepping back.
I very quickly divest myself of shirt and tie, jerking to get it off and flinging it across his floor. Did you see that in the reflection of your windows, Alex? My tie and shirt being added to the beer and glass on your until-now perfect floor? My pants and shoes and socks are about to join it. He starts to look back over his shoulder, and I smirk.
"Like you can't see me in the reflection of the glass."
He turns to face it once again and there's a shy grin on his face. It makes me lean in and stroke through his hair, sighing, kissing the back of his neck gently. I like to see him happy. I want him happy. He shivers and it's all I can do to pull back long enough to yank off pants, underwear, socks and shoes and send them flying, then press myself flush against him, my hot skin instantly chilled by his cooler body. He groans and presses back into me, and I'm reminded yet again of that first night. It's then that I realize this is my chance. To undo that. To show him what I meant, what I really wanted to do, what I really wanted to be able to feel with him that night.
"God, your body," I murmur, sliding my hands down his sides and up, pulling on a nipple, squeezing a butt cheek, savoring his writhing and humming as he does nothing more than hold himself up against the glass, making his body available to me. "And it's mine..." I say, lips against his shoulder, working my dick in between his ass cheeks and thrusting it along the valley there. "It's really mine."
"Oh God so yours..." he moans, pushing back, moving his hips against me. "Please, Mulder...take it..."
"Oh, I intend to, pet," I rumble in his ear, and it has the desired effect of making him whimper, and he smears precum against the glass as I give him another good shove, becoming very impatient with being on the outside of this body.
"Stay there," I growl, and I step away, flipping open the black lacquer box on the table a few steps away, grabbing the lube we always keep there for living room emergency fucks. I'm slicking up my cock even before I get back over to him, and I have to stop just a second to admire his body, tense and heaving against the glass. I get the rear view, the full, round ass, the muscular, broad shoulders and back, the strong arm and long, square fingers pressed against the glass, the long, strong, hard legs spread wide, dusky pink balls hanging heavily between them. I also get the front view, closed, fluttering eyes, parted lips panting fog against the glass, cock hard, an inch or two in front of the glass, twitching impatiently.
De-fucking-licious.
I move back in, hand slippery with lube from slathering it on my jumping cock. I place the head of it at his hole, pushing in lightly. I lean in, whispering in his ear.
"What color are my eyes, pet?" I ask softly.
"Oh God," he gasps. "Brown...they're brown."
"Right," I answer, licking his earlobe in approval. "Why are they brown, pet?"
"Be-because," he starts, then firms his lips in frustration.
"Because I want to touch you," I finish for him. "Just like I always did. Just like I always will."
"Mulder," he whispers, and I can hear his voice breaking. He turns his head and I press my lips to his in a chaste kiss and ram myself in up to the balls.
"Ahfuck!!!" he yells into the glass. "Mmmmuh..."
"Oh God yeah," I groan, feeling my whole body shudder at the pleasure of being *in* him again. I settle in, holding him in place, impaled on my cock, wrapped in my arms. "Say my name, Alex. Say it with me inside you and know that you're mine."
"Mulder!" he sobs, throwing his head back, nearly smashing it into my nose. "Mulder, Mulder, Mulder," he chants, and it's so fucking good I set my thrusts to that exact rhythm, beginning to piston in and and out of him. It drives his voice deeper, making it a groan, then gasping grunts, and as I start to jack him to the same tempo, cries.
"Do you think I'd give this up?" I gasp, feeling my body winding up to come.
"Please no," he begs breathlessly, and I can tell he's close, too.
"Don't come yet," I order him, letting go of his cock, ignoring the pathetic sob this earns me. I grab his asscheeks in both hands, hard, squeezing my cock between them, increasing the pressure on it to the point where I can't bear it any longer. I shove in hard between them, and he yells as I come, my mouth open on a soundless scream that turns into a shuddering gasp as I finish pumping my cum into him.
"Mulder...please..." he whimpers, and I lean against him, regaining my breath, ignoring him. When I've caught it, I take a deep breath, still lodged firmly in his ass, nowhere near soft.
I work my lips up behind his jaw, and he whimpers at each touch like I'm burning him. "Do you know you just about fucking destroyed me with your asinine assumptions?" I whisper softly, taking hold of his cock again with my left hand gently.
"I'm ssssssorry, Mulder," he cries, and I can hear the tears in his voice. I swallow against them.
"Don't fucking do it again!" I growl, and I swing my right hand in a sharp crack against his right asscheek and jerk his dick, hard.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhahahahaaaa!" He screams, covering his window with jets and jets of his cum, eyes squeezed tightly shut. His mouth stays open even after he's run out of voice and breath, and he sobs as he finishes coming, my hand working gently, pumping the last few spurts out of him.
When his window is nicely covered and he has shivered and panted and rested in my arms enough that his breathing is close to normal, I kiss his ear again, pulling out of him gently.
"I'm gonna let you clean up the beer and glass tonight before you come to bed," I say quietly in his ear, nestling my sticky, spent cock up against his sweaty ass. "and then you're going to suck me until I'm hard enough to fuck you again." He groans and shivers a little, and I wrap my arms more tightly around him. "But you're gonna leave the cum on this window until I say to clean it, got it, pet?"
He hums, nuzzling back against me, lowering his arm from the window and placing it shakily on my own, wrapped firmly around his middle. His voice is a soft whisper. "Yes, Master."
End of Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
medrul: Anal fisting.
hidingnthelight: Giving or receiving?
medrul: Receiving.
hidingnthelight: Hmmm...maybe.
medrul: Bastinado.
hidingnthelight: What the fuck is that, Mulder?
medrul: Flagellation on the soles of the feet.
hidingnthelight: I'm, uh, ticklish. Does that matter?
medrul: "I'm, uh, ticklish," isn't one of the options. They are: Yes, as often as possible, Yes, I suppose I could, Maybe, Probably not, and NO WAY.
hidingnthelight: Well, the idea of that doesn't exactly get my dick hard, and if it doesn't do it for you then I guess I'll go with probably not.
medrul: You aren't supposed to base your answers on what you *assume* I'm into. Just answer.
hidingnthelight: It doesn't seem very subby to not take your desires into consideration.
medrul: If you'd do it, even though it's not something you actively want, that's a "yes, I suppose I could." Which indicates that you would do it for me, not you.
hidingnthelight: Then...yes, I suppose I could. Happy? ;-)
medrul: Bellydancing.
hidingnthelight: Oh, come on. We can skip that one. It's obviously not something we're going to want to try.
medrul: Speak for yourself. Just answer the question.
hidingnthelight: Prick.
medrul: Ooooooooo that's not very subby of you, Alex.
hidingnthelight: Fine. Master Prick.
medrul: Upside-down suspension, blindfold, ballgag, with a Tens.
hidingnthelight: All right, all right. How 'bout if I change it to prick Master? Since you master my prick. And I'll answer your question...
hidingnthelight: Yes, I suppose I could. Bellydance, that is.
medrul: Prick-Master will do fine. Cages.
hidingnthelight: Small cages or big cages? And are you in it with me?
medrul: Big cages. No.
medrul: I'm reaching through the bars.
hidingnthelight: Okay. That's fine. I trust you. Next.
medrul: That means a lot to me, Alex. Cattle prod.
hidingnthelight: NO!
medrul: Chastity Belts, multi-day.
hidingnthelight: I feel just as strongly in the negative on that one as on the damned cattle prod, so no, Mulder.
medrul: You're an insatiable slut, you know that, right? Food play.
hidingnthelight: Thank you. And too messy.
medrul: Messy can be good. Very good. Foot licking.
hidingnthelight: Okay. All right. Truth? That'd be a yes. A rather big yes. I, uh, like your feet, Mulder.
medrul: Good to know. Good. To. Know. Forced nudity in public.
hidingnthelight: My answers can and will be used against me in a gay bar, won't they? *sigh* Yes, Mulder.
medrul: High heel worship.
hidingnthelight: I'm scared. Can I go home now?
medrul: You are home. Answer the question.
hidingnthelight: If you're going to make me genuflect for Scully's pumps then no, probably not.
medrul: Scully's pumps are way too small for me.
medrul: (Though that woman does have some monster big feet.)
hidingnthelight: I'm sure she'd just soooo appreciate you sharing that with me, too. And the answer's still no. Next?
medrul: Housework. Avoidance of.
hidingnthelight: That is NOT on there!
medrul: Answer the question, oh subby one.
hidingnthelight: Dammit.
medrul: I'll tie you down if I have to.
hidingnthelight: All right. Dammit. I wish I could say you're going to pay for this, but... Yes, Master, if you wish me to leave things gross and filthy and disgusting and cluttered and utterly unlivable...I'll do it. For you. Fuck.
medrul: Love you. Kneeling.
hidingnthelight: Yes. Anytime. I love you, too.
medrul: Piquerer. (Stabbing someone with a small object in crowds.)
hidingnthelight: I don't even know how to respond to that. :I
medrul: I'm waiting...
hidingnthelight: These list people are sick fucks!! No!!
medrul: Awwww....
hidingnthelight: You WANT me to stab you with a small object in a crowd??
medrul: No...I *think* I'm supposed to be the one pricking you.
hidingnthelight: Honey, it ain't that small.
medrul: I don't think that's the kind of prick they had in mind, love.
hidingnthelight: Well, it makes a pretty big difference in my answer. Uh, I'm gonna go with...not anything sharper than your Bic. (That's Bic, love. *Bic*.)
medrul: Snerk. Postillionage.
hidingnthelight: God bless you.
hidingnthelight: I never thought of myself as a prude before, but...excuse me?
medrul: Oh, so you're not willing to engage in the insertion of a lubricated finger into the anus, giving OR receiving?
hidingnthelight: Verbose bastards. Of course I am. Both ways. A lot. Try on a daily basis. Hourly would be pushing it, I assume.
medrul: Secret sex in public.
hidingnthelight: Only if I'm gagged.
medrul: Heh. Point taken, loud one. Sexual gerontophilia.
hidingnthelight: Yeah, I guess I really do enjoy banging the elderly. I'm with you, aren't I? ;-)
medrul: You do know I *gave* you that one. I expect to be compensated. Heavily. Tattoos.
hidingnthelight: Okay. I guess I...kind of like the idea, actually. Of getting a tattoo for you.
medrul: TPE. Total Power Exchange.
medrul: Are you familiar with that, Alex?
hidingnthelight: I think so. I, um...I'm not sure how to answer.
medrul: What's your understanding of it?
medrul: It's also known as 24/7...
hidingnthelight: I give you everything. Complete control of my life. My well-being is entirely in your hands. You take care of me. You punish me. I don't have...any control.
medrul: Yeah, that's basically it.
medrul: I'm not asking if you want to sign a contract today. I'm just asking if it's something you want to explore further.
medrul: And do NOT base your answer on what you think I want.
hidingnthelight: I don't know, Mulder. It's not something I've ever thought myself capable of before. You know? Control...is a big part of my life. It has *kept* me alive. I've never not had it. I don't know if it's in me to not have it. Do you understand?
medrul: Of course. And who says I'm even the least bit interested, myself? Do you *know* how much work it is to be a Dom 24/7???
hidingnthelight: The least bit interested? I guess I just assumed... I'm sorry. Is this not something you want to have with me?
medrul: A good Dom has to be in charge of everything...has to worry about everything...has to be on top all the time...the only thing a sub has to worry about is obedience.
hidingnthelight: So...it's *not* something you want.
medrul: I didn't say that. I just don't want you thinking about what *I* want. I'm asking what *you* want.
hidingnthelight: It's hard for me. I've had control. I'm good at having control. I don't know if I'd be *any* good at giving that up. So much of me... I depend on having it. I always have. And sometimes...I really hate it. I hate it, Mulder. Sometimes...I'd do anything not to have it.
medrul: That's what I wanted to know.
medrul: Okay, now back to your question. I'm sorry I made you believe I didn't want this. I had to make sure you based your answer ONLY on your own feelings about it. The truth is, Alex, I want to take care of you. I enjoy controlling you. I want you to be able to simply kneel at my feet and let me tell you how to live.
medrul: I don't know if I want that 24/7, but I think I'd like to try it on a part-time basis. IF you want it, too.
hidingnthelight: I'm not ready for full time. I know that. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. But I do want this. I think we want the same thing. And I'm ready.
medrul: You're placing an immense amount of trust in me, Alex. Don't for one second think I don't realize that. Especially given that you've been in some very negative nonconsensual power exchanges. I want you to be very clear at all times. You can negotiate anything. You can ask questions any time. And you can have a safeword to call a stop to things if you need a break.
hidingnthelight: I understand. It's funny. I guess I had no idea you'd be any good at this. Much less *really* good. I was willing anyway. Even not knowing that. Knowing that you want to take care of me means so much, Mulder. It changes what I thought we could have. It...gives me a lot to think about.
medrul: It scares me to think what kind of danger you would put yourself in, not knowing that I would take care of you. But I suppose I deserve that, given our shared history. I'll never let anyone...including me...hurt you again, Alex. You're mine, now. You're mine.
medrul: And when you kneel for me when I get to *our* home, I'll take that as a sign for me to take over.
hidingnthelight: Unless I have Fantastik in my hand. ;-)
medrul: Especially then. Alex, you clean too damned much.
medrul: You know, cleaning products are carcinogenic...
hidingnthelight: I have a proposal.
hidingnthelight: Wanna hear it?
medrul: Of course.
hidingnthelight: Everytime you catch me, on my knees cleaning my beautiful, polished, expensive wood floor, you just whip that magnificent cock of yours out and I'll suck you off then and there. *That* seems like the best solution. Of course that's just *my* opinion and I'm just the sub, so...
medrul: Works for me.
hidingnthelight: So when will you be home, beautiful?
medrul: I've got some shit to do out in the field this afternoon. Scully'll be back any minute now, actually. So I'll be late. Sorry.
hidingnthelight: It's okay, love. I'll wait up if you want. I want.
medrul: I won't be *that* late, Alex. But it would be nice if we could have a late dinner.
medrul: Is cooking part of the servitude package? ;-)
hidingnthelight: Don't you wish. ;-) All right, before I get a smack on the ass...yes, dear. I'll cook for you.
medrul: In high heels, while bellydancing?
medrul: Just kidding. I'll try to be home before 8 PM, barring any unforeseen supernatural attacks on my person.
hidingnthelight: What are you into, Mulder? What kind of case are you on?
medrul: Just some...marine biology research.
hidingnthelight: Quit being vague. What the fuck are you getting into, Mulder? Do you even know?
medrul: My job, Alex.
hidingnthelight: I'm just worried, you know. You don't have to get pissed with me. I...I'm used to being the one to...keep watch over you.
medrul: Excuse me??
medrul: Last time I checked, you had all your hair and hadn't taken to wearing wirerims.
hidingnthelight: Oh, you think *he* has your back? I'm sure he'd like to think so, too, but everybody in this business knows he doesn't have what it takes. He won't do what has to be done. To keep you alive.
hidingnthelight: I will. I have, Mulder.
medrul: You're talking about my...father, again, aren't you. Listen, Alex. I can take care of myself. Especially if I don't have people feeding me misinformation or keeping me completely in the dark.
hidingnthelight: I won't do that anymore, but Mulder, I'm *going* to look out for you. I know what's out there. You can't expect me to sit idly by, can you?
medrul: All I want from you? Be honest with me. Let me know the score. We can do this together. That means no Lone Ranger bullshit.
hidingnthelight: Look who's talking. That's all I want, too. I just want to know you're not going to get all...manly and shit and go off half-cocked without telling me what you're into. I know it's your job. It's just that...
hidingnthelight: *My* job used to be keeping an eye on you to keep you from getting too close. Once I separated from the Sydicate, I made it my business to try to get you closer...
hidingnthelight: I'm sure it didn't seem like that a lot of the time, Mulder. I hid a lot from you just to keep us both alive, but... I'm not on their side anymore. I haven't been for a long time now. My primary goal used to be to keep them from winning. Then it was to keep you in the game. Now it's just to keep you. With me, loving me...to keep you.
medrul: Well let me put your paranoid little mind at ease. I don't think the Loch Ness Monster has anything to do with the Consortium. I could be wrong. You tell me.
hidingnthelight: *Not* that shit they've got on the front page of The Globe this week, Mulder. You are *not* gonna be late for *that*!
medrul: Hey! What happened to that doe-eyed, devoted little 'green' partner that would follow me into the deepest swamps?
hidingnthelight: He's still here. Kind of. I'm sorry, baby. I *know* you're worth following. It's not that I don't believe in you. I do. I'd just...I'd rather have you *here*...in my arms...than slogging through the marsh looking for something that has no intention of letting anybody find it. Ever.
hidingnthelight: I believe in you, Mulder. You know that. Don't you?
medrul: So you believe it's out there? What have you heard?
hidingnthelight: Not my area. Sorry, babe.
medrul: S'okay. We can't all be monster-boys. I think it's eating tourists now, though, so I'm gonna look into it a little deeper. Don't tell Scully. I want it to be a surprise. :-D
hidingnthelight: You're one perverse asshole, dear.
medrul: I like the way your voice gets all breathy and turned-on when you say that, Alex. ;-)
hidingnthelight: You like that? Wait til I get you back in our bed, huh? Then I'll give you a breathy voice to listen to. Still wanna play chase with a big lizard?
medrul: Oh baby. You know what I like.
hidingnthelight: Oh Jesus. LOL!
medrul: Oh, you were referring to "Big Blue." Yeah, I'm afraid I still have to go. I'll be home soon. Aw shit. Scully's here...showtime! Wish me luck!
hidingnthelight: Have a good time, honey. I'll miss you. :-)
medrul: You're getting all sweet tryin' to get me home earlier, aren't ya? Thanks, babe. I will, and I'll miss you, too. Bye for now...
medrul signed off at 5:03 PM.He's not going to like this. I don't really like leaving
him alone overnight, yet, either, now that we've had our talk about
Total Power Exchange. Even though we haven't signed any kind of
contract or anything, I feel more responsible for him, now, just
knowing he is willing to *give* me that responsibility.
But it's my work. And he of all people understands that.
Fortunately, I do have the rest of the night before Scully and I leave
on our flight in the morning.
I punch in the codes on the door and it swings inward. I'm met
with his voice. Soft, casual. Not a tone I've heard a lot,
really. Conversational.
"...Queer as Folk...yeah, pretty much every Wednesday...uh, no, not so
much. Maybe once in a while...no, we're not into that."
What the hell do we do every Wednesday? What are you talking
about, Alex, and who the hell are you talking about it *to*?
"FX...yeah, I guess that's probably our favorite..."
Ah. Surveyor. I relax and close the door behind me
quietly. And then the little spike of curiosity I had been
experiencing is completely obliterated by the sight of Alex, cloth in
hand, leaning over and absently wiping down a table that *so* does not
have a speckle of dust on it.
I'm instantly hard. I take a deep breath, licking my lips.
Donning a mask of stern irritation, I reach down and start unfastening
the belt on my trousers while walking quickly forward. Alex hears
me and casually turns to greet me, cloth still touching black lacquer,
lips curving into a gentle smile.
"...Independent Movie Ch-...."
I reach into my pants and haul out my hard cock, gripping it
firmly. I put my hand on his shoulder and push.
One minute I'm telling the Neilson chick that my boyfriend (My
boyfriend! Fox Mulder is my boyfriend?!) and I like to watch
Brian and Justin go at it
like rabbits, and the next, I'm on the floor, my knees hitting hard,
Mulder's naked cock so close to my face I can feel its heat. And
it's hot. So hot. I can see his pulse throbbing through
it...demanding my mouth around it.
I answer while staring at it raptly, "I gotta go," and I hit the talk
button by feel and throw the receiver down to the floor.
Mulder glances down once at the cloth I still hold in my hand and back
to my face, hard and commanding. I gulp and toss it aside.
My breathing has gotten faster, shakier. My eyes flutter shut for
a moment. My own cock is rising up, filling, needing his touch,
his every unspoken demand.
He takes my chin in his hand, jerking my head up sharply, though his
force his restrained; he doesn't hurt me. I open my eyes to
his. His eyebrows go up once and his head tilts to the side
slightly. Yeah, I know what happens now. And I know
why. I'm so turned on I'm afraid I might come just from touching
my lips to it. I'm shaking. He's watching me here on my
knees, shaking, lips trembling, eyes watering. He's totally
unaffected. He's looming over me, huge, arrogant, silent...in
control.
I can't help breathing the words out, "Ohgod," before I open my mouth,
my eyes closing blissfully, and I enclose his cockhead in my
mouth. I immediately
taste the first release of his pre-cum as my tongue touches the tip of
him,
and I'm so happy I can make him feel good like this...arouse him so
strongly,
so quickly. I suck on just the tip of him and then bring my mouth
away
with a quiet, feral grunt. I don't do it because he likes the
noises
I make when we fuck, though I know he does. I just can't help
making
them. When I touch Mulder...when he touches me...I can't stay
quiet.
Sometimes it's all I can do not to scream.
I reach my tongue out and lick at him and am rewarded when his dick
oozes some more and I hear him struggling to keep his breathing in
check. I look up at him, still licking, to see his eyes have
half-closed and his mouth has dropped partially open. I look down
to see that he's squeezing himself at the base of his thick erection.
"Go down," he husks.
I mewl in response and take him into my mouth as deep as I can, making
him move his hand out of my way.
"Unnnfuck..." he growls. I look up as best I can to see his face
as I start to suck his incredible cock. He squeezes his eyes shut
on the sensations and when he opens them I can see the tears wetting
his eyelashes. My heart starts to pound faster. Like mine,
his eyes water when he's extremely turned on. I know this now,
having made love to him often enough to learn it. He's
happy. I'm making him happy. I'm doing a good job. I
speed up, concenrating all my energy into making him come hard.
Please. Please, Mulder, come.
He takes my head in his hands gently and begins just barely pulsing
into my mouth, pelvis rocking sensuously. "Oh pet..." he
murmurs. "So
good...so good at this..." And then he strokes his hand over my
head,
fingers running through my hair and making me shiver. "Gonna fuck
your
face now," he growls, his fingers closing tightly in my hair.
I let out a surprised yelp around his flesh as he starts ramming into
me violently. I nearly gag and have to remind myself to
relax. He pushes into my throat over and over. And all
along he's chanting absent-mindedly, "Mine...you just...hafta...take
it...take it...take it...fucking....beautiful...pet....mine...you're
mine."
Oh Jesus...Oh God...I'm out of control and I know it and I can't help
it...he's so fucking beautiful there where he's fallen to his knees,
tears sparkling in his lashes, eyes squeezed tightly shut, throat
grunting and choking a little,
lips stretched as I fuck them and fuck them and fuck them...
"FUUUUUUUUUCK!" I scream at the ceiling as my orgasm hits me hard
enough to take me off my feet. I stagger, pumping my cum down his
throat. "AhhhhhhGod, pet, pet, pet..." I make it a litany,
a chant, as I pant my breath out at the rafters, holding his sweaty
hair tightly in my shaking hands, knees just *this* close to giving out
on me. I hear a struggling, gagging sound and quickly pull back,
sliding out of his mouth with a wet slurp.
He grunts and licks quickly at his lips, cleaning up the mixture of
drool
and cum glistening all around his swollen mouth.
I slide to my knees, hands slipping down Alex's head, over his
shoulders, and I take his hands in mine, leaning forward as he meets me
halfway and our
mouths merge with two matching grunts.
I kiss him deeply, thoroughly, tasting myself bitter and slick on his
tongue, and he grabs me and holds me tightly to him, his cast bruising
my ribs. I feel the strong, hard body shaking in my arms, and as
I continue taking his mouth with mine, I lay him down on the hardwood
floor.
"Beautiful...beautiful..." I murmur, because my brain's still not
working yet and it's all I can think to say as I slide my hands down
his heaving chest,
working his jeans open quickly, taking hold of his hot erection as it
slides
out between the flaps of his fly. (My Alex is no longer allowed
to
wear underwear.) He arches up hard into my hand, entire body
coming up off the floor except for shoulders and heels, letting out a
sound so like weeping that it makes me gasp.
"Gonna come for me, pet?" I pant, leaning over him, moving down his
upper body.
"NNNnnnyes!" he hisses, and as I lower my mouth and take his cock
firmly in my mouth, he does, yelling and throwing his head back against
the floor with a thwack.
I suck and work my tongue against him, grunting, as he pulses his seed
into my mouth, sobbing. I'm used to the taste of semen now,
having tasted my own in his mouth several times in the last month or
so, but this is the first time I've tried to swallow. It's not
hard at all, especially after
seeing it done repeatedly by a master of the art. I could get
used
to it, easily. As I give his cock a few messy, soft, parting
kisses, his taut, sweaty body lowers slowly and tremulously to the
floor, and he finally
goes slack with a loud exhale. He lies there, panting, eyes
closed,
recovering his breath, while I slide back up his body and tuck myself
next
to him. We lie there with our pants around our thighs,
snuggling. The sight we would make for someone. Good thing
Alex installed one-way glass.
"So, pet," I say softly, stroking through his sweaty hair. "Going
to be doing any *more* nonessential cleaning?" I try to make my
voice sound stern through the breathlessness.
"Fuck yeah," he gasps, a mischevious smile curving his red, bruised
lips as he licks them.
I grab his body and jerk it up against mine, chest to chest, and slap
his ass sharply. "Brat!"
"Ow!" I laugh, my ass stinging just slightly from his swat.
"Ow?" he asks, incredulously. "Ow? I'll show you ow,
pet." His smile as he says it prompts me to attempt to wiggle
away even though I
crave his touch on my body. I escape his grabbing hands and am
scuttling away clumsily, face-up, one hand on the floor, pants
restricting my movement.
"No!" I yell in between giggles as he grabs one ankle and then the
other, pulling me back. My head hits the floor with a
thunk. "Ow!" I moan again, laughing harder.
"No?" he asks, eyes blazing and only partly from his mild anger.
"No?! C'mere, brat, your ass is mine and it's gonna be sore for a
fuckin' week."
He flips me over onto my stomach and reaches under me, hefting me up
with an arm slung low across my stomach. Now I'm ass-up and still
trying to control my giddy laughter. I guess I'm just high on the
experience still, high on him.
"Quit wiggling that bottom of yours, dammit" he says, delivering his
first whack, and it's harder than before. It actually makes me
catch my breath. "You think you have the right to say *no* to me,
brat? Huh?" Another
spank. This one on the other cheek, just as hard, and my laughter
dies.
My cock starts to get hard again. "You think because I
swallowed
your cum you can disobey, *pet*?" he emphasizes.
"No...Master..." I breathe, head bowed. I realize...this is the
first time Mulder has swallowed when he's given me head. I'm
touched beyond speech. He amazes me with his ability to give to
me, to show me in these
seemingly small ways that he loves me. It's not small. It's
huge.
I love him for it.
He's been stroking light, sweet circles on my ass, allowing my breath
to calm. "Still..." he starts. "I think my pet needs a
lesson. I think my pet..." He delivers a quick, painful
slap. "...has a few things to learn about being good. Don't
you?"
"Y-yes, Master."
"And I think I just wanna see that pretty pale ass turn pink under my
*hand*," he says, delivering a strong blow at the end.
"Ahh!"
"Yeah...looks nice," he says, and I can hear the pleased smile in his
voice. "Are you hard again?" He almost sounds distracted,
still admiring his work.
"Yesss," I hiss. I know he can feel my dick against his arm.
"Good," he says and slaps me again. And then again and again and
again and again. Four, hard and fast in the same spot.
"That's good," in that same absent tone. I whimper.
"Do you *know* how gorgeous your ass is, pet?"
"Nnnno."
He slaps me once high up on the back of my leg, making me yelp.
"No, what?"
"Ohgod, no Master."
"That's better." He's back to petting my ass in soothing
strokes. "Sooooo pretty. I wanna see how red I can make it."
One slap. Two. Threefourfivesixseveneightnineten.
"Aaaahhh, Master, pleeeease," I wail because it hurts now. It
hurts but...my dick
only gets harder. My pulse pounds. And I find myself
spreading my legs slightly and lifting my cheeks to his every
slap. I feel each one vibrate my balls. It's fucking
exquisite.
"Yeah, you like it," he says, lustily. I can almost *feel* him
lick his lips. "You like it when I smack that sweet ass of yours,
don't you?"
"OhyessMasteryes..." I cry, awaiting his next.
"It makes you wanna get *fucked* doesn't it?" he says, giving my right
cheek a spank.
"Uh huh," I whine.
"Yeah. Makes you want me to fill that little asshole full of my
cock, doesn't it?" he says, giving six more.
"OhYES!!!"
"And because you were such a good little cocksucker," he says, sliding
his arm out from under me, letting my knees and arms now take my body
weight, and getting behind me. "I'm gonna give you what you're
practically gagging
for."
And then he shoves his granite dick up inside my ass.
Ohhhhh it burns and throbs and it's so fucking *HOT* inside him, and
his scream of pain/pleasure makes things ten times sweeter. I
collapse over
top of him, groaning, catching my weight on my hands planted on either
side
of him. I look down and realize he's supporting *both* of us on
his
casted arm and his good one, and I quickly raise myself up, staying
buried deep inside.
"Lie down," I growl, pushing forward, forcing him to the floor.
He grunts and complies, falling to the floor on his chest with an
'oof.' "Good, good," I praise him, leaning on one arm, stroking
through his hair with the other. He turns into the carress like a
cat, eyes closed, seeking
more. His body is trembling against mine as his sweat-slick body
slides
on the floor. I make sure he's not putting weight on his right
arm,
leaning myself over on mine, then I thread my fingers through the
fingers
of his left hand, settling in for a good, long, hard fuck. Since
I
just came, and so did he, I'm pretty sure we can both go for quite
awhile.
We'll need some lube. I think I'll make him crawl over to the
table
and get it for me. In a minute.
"I'm gonna make you come all over your perfect floor, pet," I whisper
in his ear, drawing myself out of him slowly.
"Oh God yeah," he nods, whimpering, and I shove back in hard, driving
him against the floor with a grunt.
"AhGod," I gasp in his ear. "Nothing's ever felt so good as being
in you, Kry...Alex." I can't help that having Krycek, Alex
Krycek,
my ex-bane-of-my-existence, pinned under me, squirmingly impaled on my
cock, brings up the most euphoric feeling of possession I've ever
known. Sometimes
when he's like this,when I feel totally in control of him, my old
fantasies
of having my enemy bent over and at my mercy hit me and make the moment
sweeter.
Would it hurt him to know that? I gentle my strokes, sliding in
and
out deeply but gently. I bend in and fasten my mouth to his sweet
spot,
moaning and sucking, first gently, then firmly, then just plain *hard*,
leaving
evidence of my claim.
"M'still Krycek," he breathes, tilting his head to give me better
access. "Even when I'm Alex. Even when I'm your pet."
His eyes are closed, lashes wet, and I don't know if he's hurting or
trying to reassure me. I pull my face back to admire my mark,
then lean in and whisper, still fucking him steadily.
"I know who you are." I kiss his small, cute ear, mouthing the
lobe hungrily. "You're Krycek, and you're Alex, and you're my
pet, and you're my lover." I stick my tongue into his ear and he
whimpers, squirming beneath me. "Don't think for a minute that I
don't love you when you're Krycek," I continue, closing my eyes and
re-steadying myself so I can continue fucking him in the same deep,
steady rhythm. "I *love* Alex Krycek," I say, my whole body
flashing with heat as it says and hears and *feels* the
words. "I love *Alex*," I thrust in extra-hard, "*Fucking*" I ram
into
him again, and he grunt-sobs into the floor, "*Krycek*."
Hearing him say my name. Over and over again. While fucking
me. While *fucking* me, sweet and slow and hard and needy, taking
his
time, taking care of me, taking me, covering me, possessing me, loving
me...
I feel like I'm finally right. I'm *right*. The small
sentence,
the small words, hold such power for me. We're together, joined,
his
body is a part of mine, and it...we...are so right.
He strokes into me slow, but it aches without the necessary
moisture. Still, he's so careful now. His soft grunts
against my ear make me feel
claimed, owned. The way his body moves on top of mine, almost
liquid,
graceful.
"I wanna feel your skin, Lexi."
"Me...too..." I sigh, tears clouding my eyes. I want to feel him,
too. But I don't want to stop. I don't want to feel the
emptiness
when he pulls out of me.
"I love being on top of your naked body when I fuck you," he says
silkily in my ear. I whimper. I can do nothing but.
He holds still in my body and leans down to peer into my face.
"You're crying."
"It's nothing, Mulder," I reassure him, sniffing. "I
just... It feels so good...you know?" I feel like a baby
when I have to sniff again, but he releases his fingers from inbetween
mine to wipe at my tears.
"I know, pet."
He pulls out of me slowly and I hiss. "Turn over. C'mere,"
he commands softly. And then he leans down and presses his lips
to mine, staying there long, allowing this precious, gentle interlude
in the midst of our vigorous evening of wild, wonderful sex. Then
he says against my mouth, "Take your clothes off, love."
I roll off of him, kneeling up and pushing my own pants the rest of the
way down my legs. I watch him absently lick away the tears that
have
run down his face and collected on his lips as he raises up and pushes
his
jeans down and off. Then he one-handedly pulls his T-shirt up
over
his head, breathing shakily as his naked body relaxes down against the
wood
floor, twitching a little at the coolness of the hard surface.
"That's all mine," I whisper softly to myself, looking over his body
from head to toe and back again. I hear him inhale and exhale
loudly. I stand up and finish taking off my pants, shoes, and
socks, and he's watching me raptly, swallowing again and again. I
meet his gaze as I slowly unbutton
my shirt and shrug it and my jacket, which has been on this whole time
and
is horribly wrinkled, down my arms and let it drop to the floor.
Now
I'm standing over his naked body, nude and hard and breathing
heavily.
"Get up on your knees," I whisper, my voice trembling slightly.
He immediately and gracefully obeys, sitting back on his heels, head
bowed. "Crawl over to the table and get the lube, pet," I order
him, stroking through his sweaty, crazy-spiked hair lovingly. He
shivers and exhales, then turns and does so. "*Don't* put any
weight on that cast," I warn, and he lifts it completely off the floor,
using one hand to make his way the few
feet to the lacquer box on the table. His body glistens with
sweat, his asscheeks still faintly pink from his spanking, the mark on
his neck a
vivid violet color. His hands shake as he takes the bottle of
lube out
of the box and turns around, now knee-walking his way back over to me.
"Good, good," I murmur, stroking his hair again. He sighs and
closes his eyes, nudging against my hand. "Now cover my cock with
it, pet, so I can stick it back inside you and fuck you a good, long
time."
"Uhhnn..." he whines, brows arching. He licks his lips and flips
the top on the bottle, squeezing it with his casted hand, covering the
fingers of his good one with slick. I take my cock, which has
begun to soften just slightly in the absence of Alex's body, in my hand
and raise my eyebrows impatiently. He nods and reaches out one
shaky, slick hand, grabbing me gently and stroking on a thick, slippery
layer of the lube. I gasp as he closes his hand around me and
pumps, giving me a few sweet strokes which
I move into, feeling my dick quickly return to fuckable stiffness.
"Enough...enough, thank you, pet," I breathe, pushing him away. I
look down as his hand leaves me. I see that his own erection has
flagged slightly as well during the break in the action. "Take
hold of your cock," I tell him, nodding to his crotch. He does
so, sighing. "Use the rest of that lube to stroke yourself hard
again," I say calmly, the
sight of his hand wrapped around his own cock enough to keep me
hard. He groans quietly and begins moving his hand in a slow,
steady jacking motion, squeezing. It only takes a few directed
strokes before he's hard and ready again. "Good," I tell him, his
signal to stop. He does. "Get up and bend over that
impeccable white leather sofa of yours." I smirk as I watch the slight
hesitation in my obsessively-neat lover's eyes. "Over the
arm. *Now*."
He's really milking this Dom thing. That's a five thousand dollar
couch. But since his love carries no price and, let's face it,
I'm
a total whore for his cock, I comply, going to the couch and bending
over
it as he demanded. My slickened dick squishes against the leather
and
I'm surprised at how good it feels.
He places his hands on my ass and makes approving circles. "Very
good, pet."
"Thank you, Master," I whisper over my shoulder.
"Now spread your sexy legs. I'm ready to be in you again."
I smile into the couch and do as told, wanting to be filled again, to
know that I'm his. I feel the head of his dick at my hole and I
have to stop
myself from holding my breath. It's not always easy to relax into
his
penetration. Not because I don't trust him; I do. Even when
he
makes it hurt a little, he knows what he's doing and it's always more
pleasure
than pain and the pain is pretty good, too. But the size of his
erect
cock...his girth stretching my ass open...sometimes I just have to
fight
the urge to tense up against it.
This time he pushes just the cockhead in first and it feels...*God* so
good!
"Mmmm," he hums behind me, happily. " 'snice."
He slides a little further in, rocking into me with all the tenderness
he didn't show the first time. I'm not sure which I like better.
"Your ass was made for fucking," he tells me and I wonder if I should
be embarrassed at how proud it makes me to hear it. Mulder likes
telling me what a good fuck I am, how sexy I am... He doesn't
always use what most would characterize as romantic language -- often
he's very crude -- but
it makes me feel like the most beloved human on the planet. He
makes
me feel special.
All Hallmark sentimental thoughts are pushed out of my brain when he
works himself the rest of the way in with a shuddering
groan. "Oh Alexxxx...wanna *fuck* you all night."
"Please... Fuck me," I plead, needing him to finish me off,
needing to feel him lose control again.
I get into a nice, slow, deep, steady rhythm again, this time sliding
easily and smoothly in and out of his body. I sigh and sink down
over him, moving my hips in a way that I know drives his own slick cock
against the leather of his couch as I move inside him. And since
I have a little experience with the sensation of a naked cock against
leather, I know how damned nice it feels. Though I've never had
it with a cock up my ass. I've never *had* a cock up my
ass. I wonder how it feels.
"Mmmmm...." Alex moans, sliding against the couch and me.
According to my lover, here, it feels pretty damned good. I close
my eyes and just sink into the hot, liquid feeling building very slowly
in my body. I really do feel like I could fuck him all night.
"MMmmmAlex?" I murmur into his ear, gripping his hips to get a little
better fit, tilting my hips to hit his prostate and distract him from
what I'm about to say.
"Ah! Wha...?" He murmurs into the leather, squirming and
pushing back against me, begging wordlessly for more. I give it
to him.
"I have to go out of town tomorrow morning."
His head raises up off the leather. "That...uh! Case?
With the...ohhhh...sea monster?"
"'Fraid so, babe," I say, driving into him harder with a deep
sigh. "Shouldn't take more than...ahhhohyeah...two, three days."
"Fuck," he mutters. I decide to do just that and start thrusting
in hard, driving low grunts from his body as I slam us into the
leather. He readjusts his grip on the leather, driving back
against me.
"Slide back a little so I can reach your dick," I murmur in his ear,
giving his hips a jerk. He moans and complies, and I reach
beneath him, taking his hot, slippery cock in my hand. "Think you
can come for me again, pet?" I ask, beginning to jack him with each
thrust, the feel of his silky skin on my palm driving me closer to my
own peak.
"I..." He moves his own hips, pushing into my hand, then pushing back
against me. "...think..." He seems to really be
concentrating on moving his body just right. "...so..." He
needs to be taken out of the driver's seat. I grab his hair
suddenly, yanking his head back, bending his neck in a hard arch and
snarl into his ear.
"Then fucking *do* it!"
"Gah!" he yells suddenly, and I feel his body squeeze mine repeatedly
as it jolts and shudders, pumping a second load of semen out onto the
beautiful white leather. I open my mouth in an 'O' and join him,
gasping as a slow, hard *wave* of a second orgasm rocks my body and I
pump into him, my body damn near losing consciousness.
We collapse as one body over the arm of the couch, my nose buried in
the sweat-soaked, curled hairs at the nape of his hot neck. We
stay like that for several minutes, my cock going totally soft,
finally, and slipping out of Alex's body, dribbling cum down the
insides of both our thighs. We're a fucking mess. I smile
against the back of his neck, nuzzling his ear.
"What would you say if I told you you weren't allowed to clean this
couch until I got back?" I ask, giving his earlobe a little nip.
His voice is a ragged, exhausted rasp. "I'd say I choose the
punishment, Master," he breathes.
I laugh against his back.
"Mmmmsfivethirty, Muller," I mumble after he turns the incredibly
annoying alarm clock off. Mulder just *had* to bring that one,
claiming he couldn't wake up to anything else and would therefore be
late to work. So it was into storage with my progressive chimes.
"Flight's at seven, Lexi, sorry," he murmurs, yawning.
"Want me to fix you something to eat, hun?" I ask, rubbing my head.
He looks at me and smiles. "No, thanks. I'll eat the plane
food. I like the tiny quiche." He shrugs. "I'm gonna
get in the shower. Wanna join me?" He winks.
"*You* have a flight to catch," I remind him.
"Yeah? So? I can order you in there with me, you know."
"Yeah, but you can't order Scully *not* to be extraordinarily pissed
with you when she comes to pick you up and finds out you're late
because you were too horny for words," I tease, wishing we did have the
time to enjoy a quick, soaped-up fuck in the shower.
"Maybe she'd be...titillated," he says, shrugging out of his
shirt. I let my eyes travel over him. I love Mulder's chest.
"Maybe she'd kick your ass."
He looks at me for a minute, an enigmatic smile hanging around his
lips. "Get over here," he commands, and I don't hesitate to slide
off the bed, coming
chest to chest with him. He grabs my bare ass cheeks in his hands
--
(He demands that I sleep naked every night now.) -- and squeezes.
Really
fucking hard. I gasp as his nails dig in. It
hurts...reeeaaally good.
"Have some fucking respect," he says, eyes cold, and I almost believe
he's angry.
"Yes, Master," I concede, lowering my eyes.
Then he lets go, takes a playful swat at my ass, and then enfolds me in
his arms. "I'll miss you," he tells me quietly.
"I'll miss you, too," I tell him in a whisper.
"Now go get some clothes on. I don't want to corrupt my partner
*too* much, as fun as that might be. She's already having to get
used to the
idea of me living here. Your naked bod might just drive her over
the
edge, you know?"
He swats my ass again and proceeds into the bathroom for his shower.
Half an hour later, the bell rings and Mulder goes to the intercom to
buzz Scully up. I busy myself getting his suitcase into the foyer
and am not sure if I should answer the door with him like some wife or
make myself scarce or sit on the couch and...fuck, the couch! No,
that's out. I've just decided to go pretend to brush my teeth
again when the bell rings and Mulder goes to the door, opening
it. Looks like I'm taking the
I'm-standing-in-the-living-room-uselessly
approach.
"Hey, Scully, c'mon in." Mulder smiles then turns, walking over to me.
Scully looks past him to me, looking unenthused about entering my home
again. *Our* home. "Alex," she greets politely.
"Hi," I say lamely.
"Okay, well I'll be back by Tuesday, probably," he tells me
cheerily. He reaches for the back of my head as he does when he
brings me in for one of his deep, smoldering kisses, but I see him stop
himself, hesitating in mid-air. It's just a second, and then he's
closing the distance, wrapping his hand around the base of my skull and
placing his lips to mine in a chaste yet lingering kiss.
"Be good, pet," he murmurs against my lips, smiling. I nod,
trying to smile back. I don't like this. Something about
this... I don't know. It feels...weird.
He turns to Scully. "Okay." He picks up his suitcase.
"Did you remember to...?" she starts.
"...call the rental car place? Yeah. Another Taurus.
Lucky us," he finishes, and I run my fingers through my hair feeling
like a third wheel in my own house.
"All right then," Scully says and absently brushes that stray lock of
Mulder's hair off his forehead. *My* stray lock.
"Have a good trip," I manage to croak out past the strange lump in my
throat.
"Thanks," Mulder shoots back, a gigantic smile on his face, shooting me
a kiss.
I smile back at him and watch them leave. The door shuts and my
smile is gone. I turn and walk back into the bedroom, not knowing
what to do when I get there, the sound of my bare feet on the hardwood
the only sound in the empty apartment.
End of Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
hidingnthelight: Hi.
medrul: Hey Alex!
hidingnthelight: So how's it going over there?
medrul: Do you think I have a megalomaniacal cosmology?
hidingnthelight: Does that have something to do with the size of your cock, Mulder?
medrul: You'd have to ask Scully.
hidingnthelight: What is that supposed to mean?
medrul: She's the one who accused me of it. This trip has not gone real well, let's just say.
hidingnthelight: Oh yeah?
medrul: Could have something to do with her dog getting eaten, I suppose. I mean, her going into that huge diatribe on me. Dammit, I offered to walk the little furball with her...
hidingnthelight: You were gonna walk her dog with her? Why?
medrul: I was worried about her. Yeah, I know, she can kick ass with the best of them, but we were talking about a sea monster, here. I just wanted her safe.
hidingnthelight: Of course. I understand. So the little fuck bit the big one, huh?
medrul: Actually, the big one bit the little fuck. ;-) Swallowed him whole, I'm guessing, from Scully's tearful account.
hidingnthelight: So you...comforted her I suppose.
medrul: I tried...
medrul: Guess I'm not very good at that kind of thing.
hidingnthelight: And so she made judgements on your cosmology?
medrul: I can't really blame her. She was wet and cold and it was dark and scary out there. And as usual, it's all my fault.
hidingnthelight: Out where? Why was she wet? And why do you think it's always *your* fault? What happened?
medrul: Out on the rock we were stranded on most of the night. She was wet because we got rammed by the sea monster and our boat sank.
hidingnthelight: Are you okay???
medrul: We dragged ourselves up on the rock, but it was too fucking dark to see anything, so we just huddled there, and she warmed herself by flaming my ass.
medrul: Yeah, I'm fine, except for a megalomaniacal cosmology and a sprained ankle.
hidingnthelight: Stop saying that. It's not true. So...how long were you on this rock in the dark with Scully?
medrul: Shit...hours? I dunno. Then the professor shows up, walking through what turns out to be twenty feet of two-foot deep water separating us from the shore, and he thinks we're out there making out!
hidingnthelight: Why did he think that?
medrul: I don't know...it was a small rock...there wasn't really a lot of room on it...he couldn't tell we'd even had a boat. I guess it makes sense...what the hell else do you do on a rock twenty feet from shore in the middle of the night?
hidingnthelight: You tell me.
medrul: Excuse me?
hidingnthelight: Nevermind. So why was she insulting you like that, Mulder? I thought she was your other half. Your best friend.
medrul: Yeah, me, too. She is, until I get an idea she sees as juvenile, misguided, and likely to get her dragged down in the muck with me.
medrul: Like I said, the thing ate her dog. And she wasn't as bad as that prick frog-geek. He *would* have to be the one to find us out there.
medrul: Oh, but that's not the end of the story.
hidingnthelight: Okay, what is?
medrul: Well, we get on shore and the sheriff's there investigating another attack. I've got it figured out that the damned thing's in the cove, so I ask for some help checking it out. Everyone looks at me like I'm a fucking loon, and if Scully hadn't pulled out the charm, sweet-talking the sheriff, I would have been totally on my own.
medrul: She really can be charming when she wants to be. I was grateful for that.
hidingnthelight: That's great.
medrul: Yeah. So, anyway, we're looking around and we hear the geek get attacked. Okay, yeah, that was a nice little moment for me, I'll admit it...
medrul: So I go running off to save his stupid ass.
hidingnthelight: Where was Scully?
medrul: Oh she's right beside me, of course.
hidingnthelight: Of course.
medrul: So we find him with a bite out of his leg, and she gets to work, fixing him up. He's damned lucky he didn't bleed to death. I don't know how he survived, actually. I'm sure Scully saved his life. All she had was a belt and ripped shirt.
hidingnthelight: Yeah, she's a regular MacGyver. What happened next?
medrul: Okay, so she's down there, fixing him up, and I hear the goddamned thing smashing through the bushes.
medrul: So I go off after it.
hidingnthelight: Was it Big Blue? Did you see it?
medrul: Not...exactly.
medrul: My foot got caught in a branch and I went down, and this HUGE FUCKING ALLIGATOR comes *this* close to ripping my leg off from the knee down!
medrul: I'm on the ground, foot caught, firing off every round in my gun, smelling the blood on this thing's breath from the bite he took out of frog-boy.
hidingnthelight: Mulder, you could have been killed!! Why wasn't Scully with you? Did you kill it? Jesus Mulder, you came too close to getting hurt on this one. I hate that...there's nothing I could have done.
medrul: Scully was saving frog-fuck's life, remember? And yeah, just as my gun runs out of ammo, the thing collapses, *inches* from my feet. Dead.
hidingnthelight: Thank God. Shit, so there was no Big Blue then? Mulder, I'm sorry.
medrul: No Big Blue. I suppose I'm just being juvenile even chasing after something so fucking lame. Scully's right.
hidingnthelight: So why do you believe *her*, Mulder. I mean, she thinks what you're doing is juvenile and self-serving and destructive...why when she says it does it become true?
medrul: I don't know...I just know she cares about me, and she's so brillliant...and so good...
hidingnthelight: *I* care about you. *I* love you. *I* BELIEVE IN YOU.
medrul: God, Alex, you have no idea how much I need to hear that.
medrul: I just wish...I mean, haven't I earned at least the benefit of her doubt?
hidingnthelight: Why the fuck do you have to earn it? And yeah! You've *earned* it a thousand times over. Mulder... That's not even the point. Fuck, you so don't get it.
medrul: What?
hidingnthelight: You know what? Nothing. Just don't worry about it. Just stay there with Scully and try to earn her respect a little more. I'll just be here giving it to you whenever you need it. Don't mind me. It's not like I want you to care what *I* think about you. What I think doesn't matter. I'm not *Saint* Scully. I'm Alex Ratfuck Krycek.
medrul: Alex...I didn't mean...God, I didn't realize...
medrul: Alex. When you told me you cared about me...loved me...*believed* in me...you brought me to tears.
medrul: Your belief in me means *everything* to me, because I know how brilliant and choosy and downright stubborn you can be.
hidingnthelight: I guess...I guess it just doesn't feel that way. When you're off with Scully...doing things with her and listening to her and needing her approval. Do you know what I've been doing here, Mulder? Nothing. I don't have anything *to* do. I don't know who I am anymore, Mulder. How can my belief in you be valuable even? Look what I'm coming from? And where am I going? Shit, I'm sorry... You don't need this. Now I'm the one being selfish. I just...I really miss you.
medrul: I really miss you, too, Alex. God, how can your belief be important!? You know more about what's going on than *anyone*, and knowing all that, you choose to align with *me*!
hidingnthelight: But who are you out there looking for the truth with? Her.
medrul: She's my partner.
hidingnthelight: And what am I?
medrul: You...you are my soul's song. You are the reason I was given libido. You are the spark that illuminates every single one of my days, now.
medrul: God, Alex...being here, having people doubt me and tell me how fucking stupid I am and turn their backs on me...after experiencing your love and your trust and your belief in me...I think that's why it's hurt so goddamned much all weekend. I've gotten used to being treated like something really fucking special.
hidingnthelight: You are something really fucking special. You're incredible, Mulder. Your drive, your passion, the torch of your spirit burning so bright...so connected to the very truth you seek... You're irresistible. My soul *needs* yours. Your power, your mercy, your humor, the blanket of your love and care... I can't believe what a gift you are in my life. And that you said those things up there about me... You don't know how much it means. You just don't know.
medrul: I'm sorry that you're feeling lost, now that you've gotten together with me. I don't want to take you away from life. I just want you to be in mine.
hidingnthelight: I want to be in yours, too. I just don't feel like I really am. Don't get me wrong, being your lover is invaluable to me. I can't express how important being that is. Plus, well...the sex is just really fucking great. :-) But...
hidingnthelight: When I came to you...I was offering you more than that. I still am. I want to be with you on your quest. I'm just not sure if there's room for me.
medrul: I *need* you on it, Alex. I just...I asked you that once, and we never did talk about what your answer was...in fact, if I remember right, you thought I was asking if we were going to live together. ;-)
medrul: You were the one with the one-track mind, Lexi. I've always, always wanted you on my side.
hidingnthelight: Thank you, Mulder. I mean it. *Thank* you. But...what about Scully? What is she going to think of sharing you that way? I guess I should ask myself the same question.
medrul: What do you mean, ask yourself the same question?
hidingnthelight: Mulder... If I'm going to work with you, I'm going to work with Scully. Do you think *she's* ready for that? And...I need to think about if *I'm* ready for that. In case you hadn't noticed, you two are kinda tight. That's...not going to be just real easy for me.
medrul: Oh. Yeah, I guess I'm beginning to see that. Well, as for Scully being ready to work with you...uh...she's probably not.
medrul: It's not like you can just come along with me on my cases, anyway. I'm not sure how we're gonna do this.
hidingnthelight: Well, yeah. I guess in a lot of ways, I'm more of an informant than a partner. You already have a partner. I had my go at that and we both know how that went.
medrul: Whatever else...happened, I want to tell you something I never told you in our brief time working together. You were a fucking awesome partner, Alex. All 'other' things aside, I really enjoyed working with you. And not just because I got to stare at your ass when you weren't looking and wonder what you'd look like out of those J.C. Penney suits. You were a damned fine investigator.
hidingnthelight: Goddamn I love you.
hidingnthelight: Seriously. I really appreciate that. So much. Jesus, when are you coming *home*???
medrul: Well, Princess Scully has found a hot mudbath treatment spa up here and she threatened me with dismemberment if I didn't let her get in a last-minute appointment. So we're getting a flight out in the morning and blaming the extra day on followup.
hidingnthelight: Still fucking with the accountants, huh? ;-) Did you know it turns me on when you rebel against authority? Does that make you want to pull Dana out of her mudbath and catch an earlier flight, sexy?
medrul: Nothing short of Judgement Day would make me risk Scully's wrath that way, my love. Believe me, she *needs* some time in the mud. :I Did I mention she was a raging bitch this whole weekend? She's probably on her period. But anyway...I'm putting my dial-up hours down as 'research.' Charging cybersex with Alex Krycek to the FBI expense account...what does that do for ya, gorgeous?
hidingnthelight: I'm unbuttoning my fly. My shirt's already off. I'm gettin' nice and hard for ya. How about you? Want me to touch it? Want me to sit on it? Grind on it?
medrul: Gawwwwwd...that's what I've needed this whole weekend.