It was painful this time, thinking about Mulder. Knowing he would be seeing
him, The Family Man. Still trying to get over the last time they'd met up. It
was hard not to spiral down into a fucking depression over it. Over the whole thing. It was so easy to get excited, hyped at the thought of
Mulder coming over... But knowing that it was only a brief interlude and really
just a whimsy on Mulder's part—it hurt. At first, the pain had been the fiery burn of lust, desire, fear of
rejection, friendship and finally loss in the wake of Mulder's marriage to
Scully. Then the kids started arriving (and God knew he would never begrudge
that happy event from anyone, least of all Mulder and Scully, after all they'd
been through). Okay, okay, it was only the two kids, but still. The principle
was sound. This latest child, a daughter they'd named Melissa, followed in the
wake of William who was turning out to be a precocious kid. Alex knew Dana Scully was being very understanding about Mulder's 'feelings'
towards him. He also knew Mulder was very understanding about Alex's own
feelings towards Mulder. But he couldn't understand, himself, why he was unable
to move on from wanting Mulder so much, so badly, so painfully. He tried not to
let it affect him, but in his secret heart of hearts, and in the middle of the
night in dreams, he couldn't hide it. The despair. The need. The pain. Mulder was coming over in—he checked his watch—twenty minutes.
He'd been sitting on the couch now, waiting, for over an hour. Mulder would come over occasionally, and they'd talk. And flirt. And fuck.
Just to reestablish their friendship, their relationship, with no more fighting
and hostility over the past. Apparently all Mulder had ever wanted from Krycek
was for him to be consistent and present... To be "really there", as Mulder put
it, as opposed to "always disappearing and betraying me—be someone I can
count on." And Mulder's final persuasion that had changed Alex's mind and made him
believe Mulder was serious: "It's all I ever wanted from you, Krycek." Alex wasn't at all sure he approved of Mulder even continuing to come see
him anymore (though not enough that he wanted to move away from DC). Mulder had
a family, he had kids, he had a wife and a house and a life and a career...a
reputation... Why continue to keep coming over and 'hanging' with him when they
both knew—in fact, EVERYONE knew, that Mulder was simply feeding his ego
with Alex's crush on him? Alex bitterly considered the way he couldn't help himself from fawning over
the man. Like a puppy dog. Several of his friends, like Marita, as well as
Scully, Skinner and even colleagues had commented on it. He hated himself for
it, in fact. But it was like Pavlov's Dog—the moment he was in Mulder's
presence, he'd find himself melting. "Sure, Mulder, anything you want." And didn't Mulder know it; the man practically basked in the glow of the
interest, the shower of unsolicited and, let's be honest, Alex thought dismally
to himself, desperate attention. Mulder had eventually caved in and they'd fucked like animals. Mulder seemed
to really like it, too. Which surprised Alex. He didn't think Mulder would be
able to let go as much as he did, either with Alex or during the act itself. But
Mulder had a natural sensuality about him that made up for inexperience. That
wasn't the problem at all. In fact, it was starting to hurt how much Mulder
enjoyed him. Correction: enjoyed having SEX with him... and there was the problem.
No matter how many times he got to have Mulder, he'd never really have him.
The little mind-games, the easy boys-night camaraderie, the intense
discussions and sharing of information, even Mulder's devastating,
seemingly-effortless and finally authentic return of his attraction, it all
added up to now over a year's worth of pain and heartache and never filled the
space even while he finally got to taste the fruit he'd been desiring for so
long. He wanted the impossible. And Mulder had already proven again and again that
it just wasn't in him to give it. It wasn't about dalliance, courtship, sex, friendship, being fuck
buddies...this affair. No, it was about love. And Alex felt like a romantic sap
for even thinking it, even as he knew that Mulder valued passion and the
intensity of truth, even true love, more than anything. It was a virtuous
quality, the ability to feel love that strongly, and he knew Mulder admired that
in him for more than just the ego-boost it afforded Mulder. It still completely fucking blew his mind that Mulder even believed him.
He couldn't find it within himself to cut off, either. He'd tried that a
couple times in the past, and attempts to make things more friendly and less
sexual between them always failed, because Mulder knew just how to get to him,
how to press his buttons, how to make him respond. By the fiftieth time he'd assured Mulder (and thereby himself), that this
off-again/on-again "affair" , this arrangement of theirs, WAS enough for him...
Well, it felt like dust in his mouth. He knew he was only repeating it as a
matter of course to reassure Mulder that he was still his little acolyte. Alex scowled, slumped in the living room couch. He was so sick and tired of
this song and dance. The excitement would fade with Mulder's departure later and
the secret hurt would sharply poke him from within the region of his chest. The
hottest sex with Mulder never extinguished the longing. It was like picking at a
scab because it never healed. And he really wasn't one who could remain in
denial about how he felt, being too honest even with himself. No matter how many
times he'd put it out of his mind. He didn't want to obsess over the man. He'd
refuse to think about it. And found himself dreaming about him when he tried not
to. Shit. The night before last, he'd dreamed of kissing Mulder—and had
come just from the touch of that full lower lip against his own. He'd awoken,
wet and aghast. Release of pressure and tension, fantasy and friction, that's all it was
after a while. And he hated to think it, because he didn't want to do Mulder a
disservice. Mulder DID care about him, after all. As a friend and more. He'd
told Alex this repeatedly, in and out of his arms. That was partly the problem,
Alex considered. Mulder was so damned NICE; so sensitive and smart and funny...
Alex sighed and scowled even more fiercely. It was the same thing all over
again. Mulder would arrive and he'd be happy, lit up again in the man's presence
and after Mulder left, he would deflate—the source of his addiction
withdrawn once more. So what DID he really want? Curtains? Fucking wedding bells and a ring?
Ridiculous. Mulder had already made his choice. He was a Family Man. He had his
precious wife and family. He had his Truth, and finally (at long last) the
respect of his peers. But Alex wasn't stupid and yet again, the unbearable truth reared its head
in his mind; the awareness that Mulder had gotten married partly because he'd
been afraid at how much Alex wanted him, and how much Mulder couldn't help
responding. To another man. And he couldn't even begrudge Scully her happiness,
because she was so cool and open-minded about their feelings for each other and
seemed so perfect for Mulder. They really did fit each other so well. She was good for him; practical,
adoring, keeping it all together, the perfect wife with enough self-respect and
creativity to keep Mulder interested and committed no matter what. She kept him
going, helped him to remain in society and part of it all. Helped him to keep
his head out of the clouds and his high ideals rooted in terra firma. It didn't
even seem to matter that they'd come together out of mutual desperation after
their long partnership together. Scully was still in the FBI, even despite her
two kids, and Mulder was the stay-at-home dad, writing books and working from
home for Skinner and others as a consultant. I need a wife, Alex thought. I need to get married; find someone, settle
down and raise kids. Like Marita. Someone like that. Someone elegant who suited him. Stop this merry-go-round.
But it would be on the rebound and he knew, he just KNEW, that Mulder was a drug
he couldn't let go of. Not after finally having him. And knowing Mulder, the man would panic and find some way of sabotaging it.
Introducing himself to Alex's lady of choice: 'didn't he tell you? He's in love
with me. Has been for years.' Yeah, Mulder couldn't bear for him to go through
with it, if it meant losing that free lunch on his heart. Mulder always
encouraged him to see other people but when Mulder snapped his fingers, he was
supposed to come running. Amazingly, he managed to discuss this with Mulder openly on several
occasions, and without any argument, too. But every time he ended up unable to
actually break it off, remaining on Mulder's tether to be reeled in at a
moment's notice, at a phone call. Mulder had said that it would be cruel to cut him off completely, especially
when he really did like Alex, and that what they had was more than viable. Alex
shouldn't rock the boat or behave ungratefully; society was less forgiving and
in fact, it was Mulder's marriage that had saved them from unwanted bad press,
and their reputations would have been ruined. The FBI and other establishments
would have turned both of them down on principle, should any hint of gay scandal
hit them. Anyone could do anybody else, just so long as the hungry public
couldn't see it on the front page. Fox 'Spooky' Mulder, the Rectal Probe Boy,
couldn't afford that kind of publicity. He was 'too high profile', being on the
bestseller list, and considering his political and federal connections, it was a
bad idea. This was all true, which made Alex's fingers itch with the longing to
do damage to people when he thought of the hypocrisy of it. He regarded Mulder's publishers with extreme disdain at their hypocritical
stance: Mulder could spout about aliens and conspiracies but he couldn't fuck
men? It was rather absurd. It was none of their fucking business. But Mulder had reminded him that one
of the things people had always complained about Mulder himself was that he flew
in the face of public opinion... It was precisely how Mulder had got himself into
so many problems previously... Did Alex want him to regress back to his old
habits? Alex had rationalized Mulder's words to him in the beginning of their
trysts, and had tried to see other people. But that was also partly the problem: the wild life was getting tiresome and
boring. How many parties and orgies and clubs and 'good friends' could one have
before it all degenerated into meaninglessness? And it wasn't enough to just be friends and lovers. It wasn't. He didn't
know what he wanted. He just knew that it hurt. Deep. Through and through. How many times had he braved it out and whispered, "I love you", to him...
only to curse himself afterwards and wish that he hadn't? How many times had
Mulder answered the same, only to disappear for months on end? He swallowed the lump that developed in his throat at the memory of Mulder's
beloved voice returning those words, on the few occasions—during sex, of
course. Always. Naturally. So there wouldn't be as much awkwardness afterwards.
"It's called 'making love' for a reason, you know." Glancing at his watch, Alex closed his eyes. Barely five minutes remaining
before Mulder was supposed to arrive. And it still felt like stealing time.
Snatching a night here, an evening there. And Mulder was always the one calling
HIM: "Alex, come to this gathering with me, have dinner with me, spend the
night." It should be easy to find someone else to be obsessed with, his friends told
him. Someone beautiful. Someone to be worshipped, or like Marita—a very
good friend whom he could adore and respect as well. To feel that intimacy, that
closeness. But he was stuck on Mulder in the worst way. He couldn't get over
him. Sometimes he wanted to pull his hair out and yell. Why him?! Why Fox
Mulder, for fuck's sake?! Actually, Mulder was helpless. He was totally at the mercy of Alex's
feelings for him. Alex felt responsible; and he hadn't even realized at the
time, that he was actually driving Mulder crazy both during their original
partnership and after Alex had become estranged from the FBI and the Consortium.
His lovers said, 'you have this unconscious sexuality, this charismatic
sexiness, Alex, you're SO SEXY!' They called him beautiful and talented and
intimidating and pretty and he was so fucking sick of it. Professionals
considered him brainless because he had the looks. The Cigarette Smoking Man had
too. It was so lacking in substance and so petty. Everyone wanted to sleep with
him. Yeah, Mulder hadn't stood a chance. Mulder should have known better and
should never, ever have slept with him in the first place. He sighed. If only HE
had known better himself, but then, hindsight really is 20/20. It was embarrassing. The whole thing was something that hurt and continued
to grow more painful, like a toothache. But even the thought of saying, 'it's over', made him cringe. He couldn't.
Mulder would have to be the one to stop this, and Mulder never would. Hell,
another year could pass and Mulder would suddenly call him out of the blue. 'I'm
in town—wanna meet up? Throw some hoops? Pizza? My place? Scully's away...'
And he'd nod, eagerly, smiling, panting, and practically fucking drooling.
It was humiliating. His brain seemed to dribble out, down into his dick, when
Mulder entered the room or spoke to him on the telephone. Just hearing Mulder's
voice on his cell phone was like getting free phone sex. And the man was worth the attention, too. He was. Mulder was intelligent,
caring, and attractive... He'd helped Alex so many times, since their truce and
subsequent alliance after Mulder's resurrection. He WAS a good friend. They
worked well together too, working behind the scenes against the agenda of the
powerful shadows. It just hurt so much. It hurt more now than before Mulder had even given in
to him. Fuck, he had his pride! He couldn't just keep lying down and taking it. Not
if it was causing him this much pain. The knock on the door made him suck in a breath. Getting to his feet, he
went to the door, with all the enthusiasm of a cat climbing into a carryall for
a vet visit. Swallowing, he brushed a hand over his hair and tried to take a
deep breath, noting his hand was sweating slightly as he tried to grip the
doorknob. Shit. So much for his composure. His heart was racing already.
Adrenaline surged. As he opened the door, he saw Mulder standing on the doorstep, smiling, his
white t-shirt blinding in the sunlight. Alex realized he was overdressed for the warm sunny day in his long-sleeved
black shirt. And noticed how his heart clenched as Mulder said, smiling directly
into his eyes, "Hey, hi." Fuck. The man's voice curled familiarly and seductively into his ears and
settled within him. Alex wondered how the hell he was supposed to get over him.
And why he wanted to. Oh yeah... the pain. Didn't seem so bad, now. He cleared his
throat. "Hi. Come on in." Mulder brushed past him with a funny little look. One that said, knowingly,
'you're in one of THOSE moods, eh?' But he didn't say anything, merely waited
for Alex to shut the door. Alex sighed inwardly, quietly, resigning himself to another wonderful
evening filled with despair and hope, bright happiness and secret pain. God,
he'd have to get himself together; Mulder was SHARP. He'd notice. And would
press until Alex confessed. And Mulder did care about him; Alex couldn't bear to
let on that Mulder was causing him pain. It would hurt Mulder and he'd rather
die than do that. He met Mulder's gaze and gave a little smile. "I've got beer.
Want one?" Mulder's eyes narrowed as he sucked a tooth thoughtfully. "Maybe later. You
okay?" "Yeah," Alex said, a little too quickly, too nonchalantly. "I'm fine. How's
things with you?" Mulder was watching him. "Fine," Mulder said, dryly, managing to make the
one word speak volumes. Oh fuck this; he couldn't fool him, ever. Mulder knew. Maybe not the
specifics, but Mulder knew he wasn't exactly up to par. He felt a part of his
insides sink, hoping Mulder wasn't going to make this a long, drawn-out
discussion, taking it out of him one painful piece at a time. But Mulder's eyes flickered and he looked around the room, his gaze coming
to rest on the games on the table. Nintendo. Something to pass the time,
something to occupy the mind when one wasn't jerking off in the bedroom and
muffling his cry of the man's name in his pillow, or worrying about the
call-back he'd probably never get, having scared any agency he wanted to hire
him with those very same qualifications and services he was offering. A pattern
had been developing of late. I'm just feeling sorry for myself, he thought, desperately trying to get his
spirits back up to some kind of level that wouldn't have Mulder suspecting and
sniffing around. "Video games?" Mulder asked, with a lift of his eyebrows. Alex felt needled by this, somehow. "Yeah, I sit around all day long playing
games and jerking off, Mulder. Come on. That's a copy of the game they want to
release; based on the book you wrote. They want me to okay the player character
based on me. You know, vett it." Mulder blinked at him, innocently. "Yeah, I know all about it. I've got a
copy too." Of course you do, Alex thought, feeling like all of his ability to converse
with any intelligence was unraveling. He had to muster himself somehow.
Cheerfully, he said, "Do you want dinner?" Mulder smiled at him. "Only if I get to help make it." Alex considered this seriously. "We-ell," he said, unsure, "I guess so. I
guess you can." Mulder snorted slightly. "Don't worry. I won't take over your kitchen. I
wouldn't dare." "In that case, follow me." Mulder stepped in behind him. "Lead on, Macduff," he quipped, a note of ease
in his voice that made Alex wonder if Mulder was going to go along with this and
not start prying. As they maneuvered about the kitchen and prepared food, Alex found himself
wondering what the hell he'd been worried about. The friendship was established,
it was familiar, and they had a rapport that was effortless. It wasn't even a
problem. There WAS no problem. As long as he didn't take anything too seriously. Before he knew it, Mulder was bantering and sharing anecdotes about William
and tiny Melissa, and Scully, and Alex was cracking up because it was all so
funny. The stories, William's antics... Amusing and also heartwarming. It was
almost enough to make him reconsider the folly of marriage; it sounded so... cozy.
Maybe that was what he was missing; that family feeling. He shouldn't do Mulder OR their mutual friendship and lovers' arrangement a
disservice by spoiling it with confused signals of need over a loneliness that
was actually a lack of something else entirely. By the time they'd finished making the food, Alex was convinced that it had
all been in his head. And put it out of his mind completely. He slid smoothly into the pastime of cheerfully conversing with Mulder while
doing a lot of basking himself, and letting his eyes enjoy the sight of Mulder
sitting beside him on the couch while they talked and ate pasta and salad. Mulder. So beautiful. The late sun caught the highlights of bronze in Mulder's skin and brought it
out with golden warm sweetness against the white t-shirt he wore. Mulder made it
look sinful to wear clothing, the way his body so smoothly and naturally flowed
beneath everything he wore. Alex suspected he was in deep trouble for thinking this. After all, one
doesn't entertain such notions unless one is... In love. He tried to focus on Mulder again, what he was saying. Mulder's eyes flashed
sometimes with glints of sunlight catching in them as he animatedly drawled
effortless, complicated sentences with a poet's familiarity and vocab. It wasn't
fair for him to be so beautiful. Alex was grinning a bit mindlessly and caught himself just as Mulder turned
in mid sentence to look him in the eye and continue, "—and then the
spaceship lifted up into the sky. I never saw them again." Alex started. "What?" he asked, wondering what the fuck Mulder was talking
about. But a smirk had begun to creep onto Mulder's lips and he replied, "You're
doing it again." Alex felt the flush rise up into his face. "Sorry. Go on." At Mulder's
doubting expression, he quickly said, "No, really, carry on. I'm paying
attention. I am." "It's not that important. So, are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Alex looked away. "About what?" Mulder gave a little sigh. "It hasn't been THAT long, has it? Since I was
last over here?" The dreamy, happy glow that had suffused Alex began to dissipate with
rapidity. He was falling back down into the rabbit hole. He wanted to correct
Mulder. Actually, it's been two months and as many weeks, give or take four
days. But he didn't say it aloud. Shit, how pathetic was that, anyway?! 'I count
the days.' Damn it. He took a breath and was about to speak when Mulder leaned
over, placing a warm hand on his neck. "I missed you, too, Alex." The sincerity in Mulder's quiet voice made his
breath catch in his throat. As Alex raised his eyes to meet Mulder's, he saw the serious and caring
expression and it was almost enough to undo him. He wanted to stay there, just
soak it up, and the pressure of knowing that he only had him on loan was too
much, again. That, and the warmth of Mulder's touch on his skin, so close to his
face. He felt a blush rising and grimaced slightly, feeling stupid. All Mulder
had to do was touch him, and he reacted like a fucking teenager, for Christ's
sake. Still. After all this time. He licked his lips, unable to even formulate
an adequate response. What was he supposed to say?! He was losing it, and it hadn't even begun. He didn't feel like having sex,
all of a sudden. He didn't feel like letting Mulder touch him. He didn't feel
like even wanting to see him. He wished he'd made some excuse to avoid this
tonight. And Mulder was scooting closer on the couch, his voice gentle and now he
placed his hand on Alex's shoulder even gentler, saying, "Hey, it's all right. I
know it's been a while. I could've called or something. I should have. The days
go by so quickly," he paused. "I know this sounds like an excuse, but I have
been busy." His words evoked a multitude of images: family, phone calls,
meetings, finances, PR, FBI... Mulder's proximity and that hand on his shoulder were undoing him, but Alex
managed to say, awkwardly, "You know I don't mind that. I'm busy, too." The
roughness in his voice gave it all away though, and he could see Mulder
cataloguing it. The pain. His pain. He swallowed suddenly and wondered why he
couldn't breathe. And why it had to happen every single goddamned FUCKING TIME,
he thought with rising agitation and fury with himself. He wanted to say, 'it's never enough, it never is. We can fuck forever and
it still won't be enough. Love you. Want you. NEED you.' But he couldn't say it.
It sounded too needy and the times he had muttered such things, he regretted it
so badly afterwards. And Mulder's arms were going around him, pulling Alex against his chest as
he said, "Alex, why didn't you call? You know you can call me, anytime. I
would've come over. You don't have to make a production of it. If you need to
see me, I'll come over. I told you that." Something like relief flared inside him, and he said, feeling rather
comforted in Mulder's embrace, "I don't want to bother you. I mean, it makes
more sense for you to let me know when you can, for you to tell me when you want
to come over." Mulder was silent for a few moments, and then said, knowingly, "You mean you
can't handle hearing me say 'no, not tonight, I can't make it.' So you won't
call. In case you have to hear that from me." Alex stiffened and nearly pulled away but Mulder must have anticipated this
for his grip tightened and he kissed Alex on the cheek. And then said in his
ear, "I understand, you know. I go through that every time you tell me you can't
do it, that you can't make it, that it'll have to be some other time." At a loss and knowing he had to say something, anything, Alex managed, "I
just miss you. That's all. Even—even after all this time." And he found
himself blinking rapidly, trying to stop the prickles of heat stinging behind
his eyes from running over and destroying his composure. But his chest felt
tight and he could feel it burning inside of him, that pain. Mulder's voice sounded slightly mystified. "Alex... what do you want? What
more do you want from me?" Alex kept his eyes closed, hating his own need and vulnerability in this
moment. Just everything, he wanted to say. I want you to stay the night, and
then into the next morning. Spend all day with me, spend the rest of our lives
together and not have to be without you a single moment. Want you staring back
at me always. I can't stand this arrangement anymore. He licked his lips and
started to speak but his voice was sticking and he cleared his throat. "I don't
want you to give up anything on my account. I know you love Dana, that you did
the right thing by her, and that William and the new baby mean everything to you
two. I know that. I won't begrudge you that, you know I won't. Not after
everything you two have been through. But..." and he ran down, not knowing how to
formulate what he was thinking without sounding petulant, whining and demanding.
Mulder drew a breath and said, "You said yourself that you didn't want to
dissipate what we have, you didn't want to tire out the energy or the other
aspects of what we have together. You didn't want us to lose the spark. That
way, every time we meet like this, it's fresh. It's new. And besides, it gives
us space." I was a coward, Alex thought, but he didn't want to say it aloud. I knew you
were fulfilled with her, and I didn't want to admit how much it hurts. To see
you. I didn't want to admit I want... all of you, everything. I wasn't even sure I
could handle having that much of you in my life all at once, all the time. Alex didn't dare mention Mulder's reticence about being openly gay, either.
He didn't want an argument. He still wasn't sure that it was really what he wanted, either. Living with
Mulder 24/7 was hard enough for Scully, even after having spent so many
aggravating years with him. Alex could see sometimes how much it took out of
her. Mulder was... difficult because of the very same passionate intensity he had
that MADE him so attractive. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His mind was spiraling down into a confused whirl of
feeling and random chaotic fragments and words. He didn't know what to say. And he realized Mulder was waiting on him. The aching closeness of Mulder's
body against his, those arms still around him, it was almost suffocating. "I did
say that. But I—I think I'm having second thoughts. I mean, every time we
do this, when we get together, it's... it's..." "It's good. It's hot," Mulder stated. "But it isn't enough, is it?" "No," Alex agreed. A stab of fear lanced through him at this. He was
actually openly admitting it. Without preamble, without any warning or context.
And it was something he never wanted to burden Mulder with, no matter how much
Mulder might suspect, even despite the times he'd told Mulder that this just
wasn't going to keep working out. Mulder always, ALWAYS, damn him, found a way
to convince Alex that it really was what they both wanted. Sure enough, almost on cue, Mulder pointed out, "You've said this before.
And you always change your mind." "Clock it up to temporary insanity," Alex muttered. But he didn't let go of
Mulder. Mulder shifted slightly, attempting to get in a more comfortable position.
"We could always change the arrangement." His breath was hot and almost tickling
against Alex's ear, nearly making him squirm slightly. Oblivious, Mulder said,
"You and Dana could have me on a timeshare." Alex felt embarrassed at having showed any sign of unhappiness with it all.
But Mulder's next words hit him hard. "Why are you afraid to cry, with me?"
"What?" Alex couldn't believe what he was asking. What sense did THAT make?
Mulder's arms squeezed gently, once, and he continued, "You're always afraid
to let go, to let me know what you're thinking, what you're feeling... What's
going on inside you. I won't hurt you." Alex thought back. Damn. It was true. He always channeled it all into the
physical act, because he thought—aha. That was the right tack to take. "I
didn't think you wanted to get into all of that. I thought we were meeting up
for, you know... the sex." Dryly, Mulder suggested, "So you think I want your body, but not the rest of
you?" Stiffly, Alex returned, "I don't think you want to have long, drawn-out
conversations about my feelings." And then he felt ashamed for having said it.
That wasn't exactly true, considering all the talks they'd already had about so
many things in their past, shared or otherwise. But luckily, Mulder didn't seem to be in the kind of space to take offense
or even take anything he said out of context. "If we need to make some
adjustments, all you have to do is tell me that's what you want." Damn it, Mulder was always so rational when he talked about this stuff. Alex
wanted to be blunt with no pussyfooting around but there was the complication of
entering a minefield every time he brought this up. Mulder was able to
out-maneuver him so well. "I'm a pussy," Alex muttered, knowing it sounded like he was feeling sorry
for himself but didn't care at this point. He was stalling, and they both knew
it. "Yes, but you're MY pussy," Mulder beamed at him, and then leaned over and
kissed him on the neck. In spite of the warm jolt of want that ran through Alex
at this, he pulled away slightly. Mulder sighed and pulled back. His arm was still around Alex but Mulder
said, "Okay, look. Just... tell me. What do you want?" Alex gave him a disparaging look. "You know what I want. We've been over
this before." Mulder adopted a quizzical expression. "You're being obtuse." "No, you are." Alex hated himself for allowing that cold note to enter his
voice when he said it. After a few moments considering, Mulder asked quietly, "What do you want to
do about it?" The sensation of distance, of separation, was unbearable for Alex to compare
with the bright sunlight shining in the room and playing over Mulder's face, his
skin, making him a golden god, his only idol. He looked down at the floor and
bit his lips, wondering how the FUCK he was supposed to say it. With a sigh, he muttered, "I want you. All of you." He brought his gaze back
to meet Mulder's, directly, noting with a twinge of victory that Mulder actually
looked a little nervous. "I'm tired of compromising." Mulder swallowed. Alex wanted to laugh suddenly. The man had actually
gulped. Mulder looked away and appeared to be thinking this over, licking his lips
until finally settling on a thoughtful chewing of that lower lip again. He began
nodding slowly. "All right." Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise. Maybe he'd misinterpreted. Hm. Mulder
always did get off on Alex's devotion to him. Maybe it was turning him on, and
Alex wasn't sure he liked that thought either right now. "All right?" he
repeated. "Just like that?" Mulder swiveled his head back to him. "Yep." It was Alex's turn to feel nervous. Suspiciously, he asked, "What, no hidden
price tag? No settlement? No negotiation or debate?" Mulder shrugged. "Nope. I'm all yours." He watched Alex struggle with the
apparent ease of this, looking for some catch. Then he dropped the bombshell.
"So what are you going to do with me?" He added meaningfully, "Now that you've
got me." Ah. There it was. Alex closed his eyes and sighed, letting his head drop
back against the couch, feeling deflated. It always came back to this. "Alex?" Mulder prodded. "Whatever," he mumbled, feeling as though Mulder had managed to take any
meaning out of his little statement. The earth-shattering revelation of
'wanting' him and saying it aloud seemed proportionately lessened in the cold
light of day. It sounded petulant and banal. Like a child demanding candy. "I
want the candy, mother! I want it now. No, the whole jar!" Handed the entire
jar, the child stands stunned, mute, knowing very well the reason Mommy never
gave him the whole thing before was because it will make him sick. But like that hypothetical child in his mind's eye, who looked suspiciously
like himself at an early age, Alex realized that he too could not afford to
admit that he knew very well that consuming the entire thing was going to cost
him more than he dared examine. Which is when it hit him. He didn't want Mulder any less now than before;
his own feelings hadn't changed. He wanted— He wanted Mulder to want him the same way. He wanted Mulder to suffer when he wasn't there. He wanted Mulder to pine
after him for years and then have to suffer not having him, on again and off
again. He wanted Mulder to be tantalized with his presence as the heaven he
desired was dangled before him on a stick, leading him around in circles. Alex realized that was unfair. He couldn't wish that suffering on Mulder,
his beloved. Mulder cleared his throat next to him, saying, "Alex? Hey, you know, it
doesn't have to be this way." "It doesn't?" Alex was unconvinced and really didn't know what the hell
Mulder was referring to. "No," Mulder continued. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me what you
want. You don't have to worry about losing me. I mean, we're already together,
here. I think what you're suffering from is a post-event depression and anxiety
brought on by unresolved emotional impacts from the past." What the—"Mulder, what the fuck are you talking about?" "No, hear me out," Mulder insisted, getting his wind up in that cute,
endearing way he had once he got his mind stuck on some convoluted train of
thought. "You and I, we always had this volatility, this passion. This
attraction. We've acted on it, but in doing so we managed to not dissipate the
charge, our energy... But because of the way in which we relate, we've never
resolved some of the residual issues between us. Namely, your insecurities."
Alex sat up. He didn't like the sound of this. After all, having his
suffering reduced to a psychological insecurity was not only humiliating, it
placed the love he felt on a level with an emotional stressor that belittled his
heart. Oblivious, Mulder pressed on. "You still don't believe that I've actually
forgiven you for the past, that I'm not harboring some remaining resentment or
need to see you suffer for the times I was hurt by your actions. That's why
you're afraid to tell me you want me. We've talked about it, but we've never
shown it—not in the way we see each other, here. In fact, I'm willing to
bet that you probably feel like I'm using you, don't you? That I don't really
feel the same way. Am I right?" "You're always right," Alex muttered. Ignoring the sullen reply, Mulder continued, "You probably resent me for not
sharing the same anxieties and doubts that you're having, and in doing so you
end up projecting them onto me. I know, because I did exactly the same thing
with Scully for a while." "Dana," Alex corrected, automatically. Mulder simply carried on. "I was sure that she only wanted me there for HER
security, because of the baby, for me to be the father and husband, and that
she'd invested so much in me and the X-Files over the years that to not have me
was to place her life all these years on a level of redundancy. I thought she
considered it her due, payback for all she'd invested in me. Her expectations...
And it wasn't until I talked it over with her, openly, that she admitted there
had been that concern at first but she actually did NOT feel that way about me.
She actually cared. She loves me and wants me in her life as ME. That's why she
lets me have you, as well." "This isn't convincing me of anything," Alex declared. "In fact, it's simply
reinforcing what I've suspected all along. You don't feel the same way for me as
I do for you. You feel it for her, though." Mulder sat, regarding him silently. Alex darted a glance at him, wondering
when Mulder would let fly with some caustic correction or rejoinder but Mulder
merely began to smile. That slow smile was undoing his insides before long. Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer. "What?" Alex demanded. "What is
it?" He vaguely wondered if he was being mocked. "You don't have any idea, do you," Mulder said, dreamily, "How sweet you are
when you're all worked up, all insecure and vulnerable like this?" Damn it, Mulder WAS mocking him. He scowled. "I'm glad I can amuse you," he
said, stiffly. "C'mere," Mulder grinned, leaning over and planting a wet smooch on his
cheek. "I've got an idea." At Alex's deepening frown, Mulder said hastily, "No,
no, it's a good one. You'll like this. I promise." Feeling fairly vulnerable indeed, Alex licked his lips, once. "What is it?"
Mulder kissed his ear now, and began nibbling on his ear lobe. "You're gonna
love it," he promised, a husky note in his voice that, combined with the hot
breath on Alex's ear, began to arouse him. Alex shifted in place on the couch, feeling his jeans tighten. "What have
you got in mind?" Mulder's lips nibbling at his ear and trailing down to mouth his neck was
making him squirm and it occurred to Alex, "I'm just your slut, you know." "Yeah, I know," Mulder breathed against him, eliciting more involuntary
squirms from Alex. "That's what I love about you." Mulder paused, suddenly, and then went back to licking his neck. "Well, one
of the things." There was very little in the world that could reduce Alex Krycek to a
mindless babbling idiot but an amorous Fox nipping and kissing the sensitive
skin on his neck was definitely way up there on the list of possibilities. Alex was fully erect now, his cock painfully trapped by his jeans and a
random part of his brain recognized he was panting slightly. Mulder withdrew. "You haven't showered, have you?" Alex stopped. "No, why?" "Good," Mulder murmured, letting his eyes rove all over him. Alex felt devoured now. It simultaneously affected him as it always did: he
felt like he was being stripped naked but he also felt admired. Mulder had this
effect on him just by looking at him. It was one of the things Alex had finally
had to confess to himself was a sure sign that he was totally smitten. If anyone
else had looked at him like that, he would have hit them in the mouth. Mulder stood up and took off his t-shirt. Alex stared up at him, and
couldn't help letting out a gasp. Naked in sunlight, Mulder looked even more
delicious than when he was clothed. Alex found it surprising, considering that
he usually found nudity could be less of an impact than strategically open
shirts and bare feet... especially on Mulder. Mulder smiled down at him. "Come on, get up. I need to tell you something.
And show you something." Alex got to his feet, feeling like a lamb to the slaughter. He bit the
inside of his cheek, wondering why the hell he'd take anything this man would
hand to him, when the humiliation of it all was still the primary benefit he
received. Sex on a stick, and he was the jackass who'd follow down any path.
Something of his uncertainty must've showed on his face because Mulder said,
comfortingly, "You're going to enjoy this, I promise. I give you my word." Alex relaxed, letting himself slump slightly where he stood. "Okay, okay.
What is it?" Mulder's eyes were sparkling. He looked almost... predatory. "I think we need
to adjourn to the bedroom for this." Alex let out a groan. He was standing in the middle of his living room with
a hard-on and a heartache, with a sexy, bare-chested Fox Mulder promising him
happiness. And he couldn't help suspecting a catch. Uh-huh, yeah right. "What's
the catch?" Mulder tilted his head a little and regarded him. "The only catch," Mulder
informed him, fondly, "Is that you have to trust me. Completely. That I'm not
going to hurt you. That I really am yours. And that you're going to like this."
With a nonchalant twist and duck of his chin, and a lift of his brows, Alex
asked, "Is that all?" As if Mulder was asking far, far too much. But Mulder merely began chuckling low in his throat, a faintly disturbing
sound that didn't really allay any of Alex's doubts. "Come on," Mulder urged,
more impatiently now, as he began to walk towards the bedroom. The window was slightly open, a faint breeze stirring the thin light-blue
curtain in the shafts of sunlight, making Alex feel like time was slowing down.
He felt light-headed, and nostalgic. And he wondered why he felt like this was
their first time, a first date or something. Goddamn it, he actually felt
awkward and young, even though they'd had sex in far grittier and kinkier
settings. He licked his lips. "What do you want me to do?" He felt stupid for asking.
But Mulder was peeling off his pants and then his socks. He sat on the edge
of the bed and patted it. "Just sit down next to me." Alex took a deep breath and took off his shoes, obediently sitting beside
Mulder. For some reason, the tension running through him was immense. He
realized it had to be from the knowledge that whatever Mulder had in mind, here,
was a direct result of his earlier statement of intent, of desire. Of want. And as it dawned on him that Mulder intended to give him 'what he wanted',
he wondered if it was the same thing he imagined he wanted—and if Mulder
had that in mind. Fuck, even HE didn't really know what it was he actually
wanted. He couldn't think anymore. He was tired of arguing with his own thoughts,
and he was really tired of Mulder's propensity for psychoanalysis in lieu of
understanding of his feelings. He was the one fully clothed, Mulder was only in shorts, and yet he felt
more naked and stripped before him than ever. He realized that was probably
Mulder's intention, to strip his emotional walls and insecurities away with his
clothing, when he finally did. What the hell had he let himself into here?! Alex vaguely wondered in the back of his mind if Mulder really had meant
what he said: that he could trust him, that Mulder wouldn't hurt him. Even
emotionally. He let out a sigh, part nervousness and part surrender. He was
tired of being sad, he was tired of feeling used, like he was getting screwed in
this affair. He was tired of having to feel anything, and he was very sick and
tired of having to deny what his feelings really were. Mulder's warm hand on his arm startled him and he flinched, hating himself
for the tension and keenness of the moment. But Mulder merely soothed him with a
light stroking, saying, "Relax. I promise this will be different. We're not
gonna keep sublimating love with sex. I know you hated it, before, when I did
the same for the sex with violence. Hey," Mulder announced more brightly, "I can
learn, you know." Alex let out a nervous laugh that he didn't really feel, and knew it was
insincere. No more games, no more hiding, just truth. That was what Mulder
wanted most, truth? Fine. He can have it, Alex thought, bitterly. "I wonder."
Mulder just chuckled at him again, that dark wicked chuckle that unsettled
him, and made him feel like Mulder was in charge, that Mulder knew something he
didn't. "I'll prove it to you," Mulder promised. A dart of foreboding rippled over Alex as Mulder said, "I want to make a
deal with you." Here it comes, Alex thought, readying himself. Then practically fell over when Mulder asked, "Do you love me?" "Y-yeah. Of course. Come on, you know I do." "You love me completely? You trust me?" Alex licked his lips, his mouth open. "Yeah." "Say it," Mulder urged. "I love you," Alex repeated. Then fell silent. Fuck. What was that Mulder had said? No more sublimating love... with sex? Oh
God. "I love you, too," Mulder said. And Alex got the feeling Mulder was saying
it with deadly seriousness. "And I'm going to prove it to you. That I love you.
Will you trust me? Will you let me love you, like I want to?" His answer was barely audible, even to his own ears. "Yeah." "The only thing you have to do, Alex, is love me. I know you do, and there
is only one thing you need to do to show me." To his surprise, Alex found himself trembling. "What's that?" he started to
say, but his breath stuck in his throat and he had to clear it. "And what is
that?" "Take off your shirt," Mulder ordered, quietly. "And I'll tell you." With a shaky breath, Alex began undoing the buttons on the front of his
shirt. Mulder didn't move to help him. He finally managed to pull it off, even
over the prosthetic he wore. The stirring breeze flowing into the room through
the blue curtains and sunlight in the window suddenly brushed against his bare
skin and he felt more naked than he'd ever felt in Mulder's presence. "Now lay back against the pillow," Mulder ordered, moving across to the
other side of the bed. Alex lay back as instructed, wondering if Mulder was getting some sort of
kinky idea into his head. Sex games weren't exactly the same as affection, and
he didn't really respect that as an authentic alternative to the depth of his
longing for Mulder's presence. They'd played games before and it was always a
distraction from the feelings they never spoke of. Mulder had to know this, he
thought. And wondered what the fuck Mulder was up to. Mulder lay beside him, and without touching him, said, "You're mine. Tell me
that you're mine." Alex closed his eyes. Hoping this was a prelude to... something. "I'm yours."
"Do you trust me?" "Yeah." "And you love me. So you'll do anything I want? You'll let me do anything to
you that I want?" Alex let out a breath of impatience. "Yes, anything you want. Get to the
point." "Ah-ah. No. I'll get to the point when I'm sure you are ready for me to get
to the point," Mulder admonished him, a note of amusement in his reply that
actually stung more than his words. "All right, all right." Alex wished he could stop himself from trembling. It
betrayed too much. Mulder trailed a seemingly casual hand over the exposed, tender flesh of
Alex's belly, knowing full damn well that Alex always found this uncomfortable
as it wasn't really sexual and made him feel vulnerable, and continued to as he
said, "Anything I want. I want you to let me love you, in the way that I choose,
whenever I choose. You want me to want you, and I'm going to prove to you that I
do. But you have to let me do it my way. Okay?" Mulder was keeping his voice
gentle, for some reason. I'm not an animal, Alex wanted to say, testily. Whatever the subtleties were, of the power structure between them that
Mulder was trying to impress upon him, this was getting tedious in Alex's mind.
He felt like he was being drawn into a game of some kind. Another mind-game,
courtesy of Mulder's fertile and odd imagination. "Okay." Lazily stroking Alex's skin, moving his hand up to Alex's chest now, and
trailing lightly over his left nipple and then down to his waist, Mulder said,
quietly, "I want you to be mine, to REALLY be mine." "You want me to be your sex slave," Alex accused. Mulder pulled himself up and grinned down at him. "No, I want—" and
Mulder kissed him on the lips, before drawing back up and saying, "—you to
be—" Another kiss, slower this time, "—my—" Another lingering kiss, Mulder's lower lip pressing into his, that tongue
sliding, only the tip, between his mouth to touch against his tongue, unbearably
withdrawing... As he finished the sentence, Mulder's voice was low, "—love-slave." As
he finished speaking, Mulder smiled into his eyes, waiting for his reaction.
Not—not his sex-slave, but... his 'love-slave'? What the hell? Alex frowned in confusion. It was a mind-game, after all, he knew it.
"Mulder, what—what the fuck are you talking about?" "Exactly. I'm not talking about fucking. I'm talking about making love. I'm
going to make love to you, and you're going to take it. Because you love me.
You're going to let me have you, however I want to take you, and you'll let me
prove it you my way. Because you love me." A part of Alex's mind wondered if Mulder was making a fool of him. "That
sounds... very romantic, Mulder. What's the catch?" Mulder grinned at him again. "No catch. It's all up front. Now put your hand
up. Over your head. Yeah, like that. Now don't move, until I say you can." Mulder began licking at his right nipple, in between blowing on it, making
it hard and causing the usual shivers this kind of Mulder-attention made Alex
suffer from. Getting up, Mulder was using both hands to touch him now, just stroking
every exposed inch of his bare skin. Alex's cock was so hard now, he hissed as he couldn't help bucking up
slightly. "Fuck. So, being a pricktease is your idea of—" A big, sloppy kiss silenced him. "No complaining," Mulder leered at him.
"This is just foreplay. You recognize foreplay, don't you?" "'Love-slave'?" Alex repeated, with a note of disbelief. How was he supposed
to take this seriously? Mulder leaned down to kiss him again, so gently, barely even a kiss, letting
his lips brush against Alex's. "Yeah," Mulder breathed against him, "my willing,
desperate little love-slave. You want it, I know you do. You want me to want
you. You want me to take you, you want me to love you. You want me to make love
to you. Don't you?" The words caressed Alex with intent, rather than their meaning, and he
nodded brainlessly, breathing harder. "God, yes." "You love me. I want you to give me everything. You want me to take
everything. And I'm going to, Alex. But you have to let me give to you, too. It
works both ways, you see." Alex managed, "Give... and take..." "Yeah. Do you agree, then? To be my love-slave?" "Sure," Alex said, eagerly waiting for Mulder's next move. "Say it." Mulder sat there, looming over him again, looking directly into
his eyes. Suddenly, Alex realized what Mulder wanted. He swallowed. Bravely staring
back up into Mulder's waiting gaze, he said, "I'm—your love-slave." And
somehow, it didn't sound trite or silly. It felt like a bond, like a commitment.
Mulder let his eyes narrow and a smirk started curling his lips. "Good. Now
take off your jeans." He moved back, giving Alex room to do so. Oh fucking hell, Alex thought. This was worse than Mulder stripping him bare emotionally in the act of
removing his clothes, Mulder had him doing it himself, as an act of submission.
"Mulder, if you want to establish the power structure here, and you're going to
be on top, you don't have to—" "I'm not." Mulder looked hurt. "I'm not. That's not what this is about. I
told you, this is about love, not sex. Instead of using sex to sublimate love,
we're going to use sex to express love. We haven't exactly done that before,
have we? I think it's the only thing we haven't tried. And it is exactly what we
have been missing. Don't you agree?" Alex groaned and flopped back, dropping his jeans over the side of the bed
onto the floor. "Okay, okay." Mulder considered him and his erect state, tenting his shorts. "Those have
to come off, as well." Biting his lip, and finding himself unaccountably blushing as heat rushed
into his face, Alex sat up and wriggled out of his shorts, pulling them over his
feet and letting them join the jeans on the floor. He lay back, feeling absurd.
Love-slave? And Mulder meant it, making it sound so...appealing and romantic and...
shit. Maybe Mulder was smarter than he was, after all. Mulder lifted a brow. "Put your hand up again, under the pillow this time.
Now promise me you won't bring it down." "I promise," Alex said, feeling stupid. "Now can we get on with it?" "You don't seem to understand," Mulder commented, letting his hand slide
down Alex's belly to his right leg, down to his knee and back up, to rest on
Alex's hip. "You know," he continued, as if Alex hadn't said anything, "You're
skin's like silk. You're all hot and silky. I can't understand why your skin's
so soft. It's one of those things about you, Alex. It makes me want you, so
much." Alex drew in a breath, his prick leaping a little as the heat of Mulder's
hand seeped into his hip, inches away. But Mulder just let his hand rest there,
not moving any further. Fucking cocktease, he glowered silently. He didn't say anything. Mulder's creepy intuitive ability seemed to anticipate him though, and
Mulder remarked, "You know, for a guy who's been through as much as you have,
you sure do seem to have a problem with taking it." "'Taking it'?" Alex parroted, derisively. "I knew it," he accused. "This is
about control." Mulder tutted at him, clucking his tongue. And sighed. "Taking what I want
to give you," Mulder finished. "You can handle any kind of pain, but you can't
seem to handle pleasure. You don't have the patience or the endurance for it."
Alex was floored. It almost sounded like a challenge. "I can. I do." He
hoped it didn't sound juvenile, the way he said it. His voice was lower and
rougher than he'd expected too. Jesus, this is turning me on after all, he thought. And realized, maybe
Mulder's right... maybe I can't take the very thing I thought I wanted. Love. "I—I think I've been doing that," he admitted, suddenly, his voice
sounding awkward in the silence of the room between them as he offered this, not
really knowing what Mulder would say. "Using sex as a substitute for love." "Yeah, we both have," Mulder agreed, quietly. "I think we were both too
afraid to stop, to move onto the next stage. Maybe we weren't ready to." Alex found himself shaking. He nodded in response, suddenly wanting to beg
Mulder to do it, and do it hard. And realized this was the very thing he'd
always done, it was the moment he usually arrived at where he would do precisely
that: fling them both headlong into the sexual act in an attempt to lose himself
in the sensations rather than allow the slow, excruciating feeling of being
enjoyed. Consumed. Taken. Mulder began to talk, as he reached up for the lube Alex kept above him, on
the stand by the bed. "I'm going to make love to you now. And I want you to take
it. You're going to let me. I want you to let me do it in my own time, at my own
pace, okay? You can beg as much as you want to, but I promise that I'm only
going to do what I want, when I want." Alex let out a breath, gasping. He realized at this point Mulder wasn't
really expecting him to reply at all. The sensation of feeling light-headed
intensified. Watching as Mulder's hand moved slowly up and down on that long,
impossibly big cock of his, Alex shivered as a bolt of energy seized him. Mulder was watching him, and a large smile split his face. "You are so
fucking gorgeous when you're turned on. When you're wanting it." And
conversationally, Mulder added, "You know, I think it might be a good idea from
now on if you refrain from wearing underwear at all." He noted Alex's expression, and clarified, as if it should be obvious, "So I
can get at you when I want to. Ease of access, and all that." Alex was on the edge of pleading loudly. Just fucking get on with it! Fuck
me now, now. Now. Do it... Fucking bastard was going to make him wait and despite
what Mulder had said, he was nearly 100% sure Mulder would wait until he was
begging. Mulder turned to face him, on his knees above him on the bed, his large
prick glistening as it nodded slightly with the movement, making Alex's mouth
water. This was nearly torturous. Mulder knew damn well how much Alex loved to
touch him, how much he loved to get his mouth down around that big dick and suck
it like a lollipop. He'd spent one afternoon a few months back doing exactly
that, driving Mulder out of his mind. Mulder must've guessed what he was thinking—perhaps remembering the
same day—for he began chuckling at Alex's gaze. And at Alex's helpless
little smile at Mulder's dick. "I know how much you like chowing down on this,
but maybe later. Right now, I have plans for you. Lift your hips. Lift up."
Mulder grabbed up one of the pillows and wedged it under Alex's butt. Then he
said, "Now lift your legs. Come on, spread them. That's it." Alex did so. And waited. He began wondering how long Mulder would stare down
at him in this position. He felt on display. He couldn't help squirming once, in
place. Mulder immediately shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no. You mustn't do that. You
keep wriggling around like that, you're gonna get raped." He tilted his head at
Alex, with a little mock frown. "Maybe that's the idea, huh?" He clucked his
tongue at him again. Alex wanted to scream. "Mulder," he said, roughly, "please just..." he
stopped. He was at the begging stage. Fuck pride, he thought. "Please fuck me,"
he said, unable to stop a pleading tone from creeping into his voice. "Oh, I will," Mulder promised, cheerfully, pausing before adding, "When I'm
ready to. And I'm certainly not going to be ready to when you're not ready."
As if to illustrate the point, Mulder grabbed up the lube and squeezed some
onto his fingers of his right hand. "Time to get YOU ready for some love, my
little slut." Alex groaned. "Somehow, hearing that from you, Mulder, it's kind of..." "Dirty?" Mulder suggested. "Actually, it's almost the exact opposite of dirty. You use it like an
endearment," Alex said. Mulder smiled down at him. "It is. Now keep your legs up. Knees up," he
ordered. His left hand parted Alex's butt-cheeks, stroking and sliding between
his crack. Pressing his wet forefinger against Alex's tightly puckered anus,
Mulder looked down and said, "It's winking at me. I guess it's letting me know
I'm doing something right, eh?" Mulder's constant stream of discussion was starting to get on Alex's nerves.
Not only was Mulder's voice a turn-on under any circumstance or situation, to
have it accompanied with this intimate invasion of Alex's body while he was
feeling so vulnerable to this loving onslaught and surrender, the words were
almost offensive. Because Mulder was being so— Nice. That was it. Mulder was being nice to him. It was almost too much. He had to
stifle a whimper at this, and then wondered why he was bothering, as Mulder's
finger was probing deeper into his ass, slowly and slickly penetrating him, in
and out, the motion supposedly soothing but actually making him hot, making him
want to grit his teeth. Mulder would undoubtedly think he was whimpering over
this repetitive action and not the realization that Mulder really did care about
him enough to do this at all. But he didn't dare. He knew himself well enough to be aware that at this
point, that kind of involuntary loss of control led to— He cut that train of thought off, abruptly. He couldn't afford to think
about it. And focused on the fact that Mulder's second finger was now joining
the first. And the rest of the fingers were stroking his balls, fondling them.
"...you're beautiful like this," Mulder was saying. "I love it when you open
for me, when you give it up to me." The second finger wasn't enough. Alex bit his lips. Mulder looked up at his face, asking in a concerned voice, "What? What is
it? What do you need?" "I—I need more," Alex managed. "Please, Fox, fuck me, please." Mulder smiled at him, so completely and so tenderly, it nearly undid him and
made his breath catch in his throat. "Oh, baby, you're so beautiful when you beg
me. I'm gonna fuck you. I'm gonna make love to you, and you're going to scream.
I promise." He pulled his fingers out, looking down at them. "But not until I'm ready."
He stopped, turned, and applied more lube to his cock. Then licked his lips and
said, "Alex?" Panting, Alex exclaimed, "What?!" "I want you to do something for me. I want you to look at me, all through
this. I want you to promise me, you won't look away. Keep your eyes on mine,
okay?" Alex closed his eyes, just because. Oh shit. This was something he found
difficult to do even when Mulder didn't say it aloud. It was usually too
unbearable. To stare into those eyes of his, during the act, it was too
intimate, too much, he wanted him too much and even at the height of pleasure it
was never enough. It was scary, in fact. And the fact that Mulder knew it, had noticed it, and was now using it at
this time... it was almost too much. A soothing hand on his forehead, lingering and then caressing his cheek,
made him open his eyes. Mulder was leaning close, and then kissed his chin, and
kissed the corner of his mouth. "I need you to, this time. Okay? It's
important." Alex swallowed, hard, meeting his eyes and feeling like the breath was being
stolen from his lungs. "Yeah," he agreed. He felt so stupid. Awkward. Like, why
was it a big deal in the first place? Why was it so hard to do? He didn't want
to think about it, about why. But he obediently kept his eyes on Mulder's face.
It was easy right now, actually, as it allowed him to see what Mulder was doing,
what expressions Mulder was wearing as he moved into position between Alex's
legs. That hand moving to shift Alex slightly, and the other grasping Mulder's
dick to point in the right direction—Alex watched it from the periphery of
his vision while noting how Mulder's pupils dilated. Probably in response to the
knowledge of what he was planning to do to him, Alex thought, absently... And the
realization of it— Fuck, at last. At last. Okay. Action! Time for... Mulder let the head of his cock touch against Alex's fluttering, eager anus,
just resting there against it, leaning into him. Mulder's mouth was open, and
his face looked slack. He glanced down at them, where their bodies met. "God,
Alex," he muttered. "I love the way your ass kisses my cock." Alex gasped, unable to stop the words from shooting a shivery, hot thrill
all over him. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him, and
coming from Mulder, it sounded crude and yet also sweet. For him to say it right
now, too... it practically had him writhing against Mulder's dick, begging for him
to just slam it in, now, please, or else. Mulder bit his lip, and looked down again, experimentally, pushing into him
a little, then pulling out again, saying, "Yeah, oh yeah, like that. Look at
that. Kissing my dick... You know what comes next, don't you?" He looked back up
at Alex, staring directly into his eyes, making Alex feel weak and wonder if he
could even keep his legs up any longer or if he was going to lose the ability to
move and just collapse, boneless. "I'm gonna French-Kiss your ass with my cock," Mulder promised, a definite
leer this time, and so possessively that Alex wilted. Everywhere except his own
cock, he lost the built-up tension, feeling it dribbling out of him along with
his ability to think, or argue, or even feel defensive. "Please, Fox, please," he whispered. "Do it. Just fucking do it. You want me
to beg? I'm begging. You want me to be your love-slave? I am. Just PLEASE!" He
sobbed. "That's it," Mulder said, and pushed into him, with controlled stabbing
motions, letting the momentum of the pressure carry his thick cock all the way
into Alex's body. A frantic rush of lust accompanied the slight burn as Mulder entered him,
moving into him slowly, back and forth, almost like dancing to a silent, unheard
rhythm. Alex felt every push into him as a sweet, dark magnetic pulse, as the
strength of the thrusts weren't quite enough to actually move him backwards and
he started wanting them to. The sensation of Mulder's skin brushing against the flesh of his inner
thighs, back and forth, was undoing him. And that lovely, lovely crown of
Mulder's dick brushing incidentally against his prostate, ever so slightly with
every thrust... "I really need you to fuck me," he gasped. "Please. Hard." "Nope," Mulder stated, matter-of-factly. "Gonna make love to you, though."
True to his word, Mulder just kept slowly pushing into him. In and out.
Mulder just wouldn't pick up the pace. Finally, it was too much and Alex cried, "Please!
Just—please—touch me! Touch my cock, please! Want your—your hand
on me—" "You want to come?" Mulder asked, gently. "Okay," and with an adjustment in
his positioning between Alex's spread legs, he closed his left hand around
Alex's throbbing prick. "You can come, baby. Doesn't matter how many times you
come, I'm still gonna keep doing this to you. Come on, come for me." The combination of Mulder's hand stroking and gripping his cock, and that
magnificent big Mulder-dick slowly plundering his ass... "It's too good," Alex gasped. The pleasure shot through him, and it was too much, and it was
shooting— White fire was flowering and bursting—lightening behind his
eyes—his own yells and hoarse panting gasps and shuddering cries almost
inaudible as the blood rushed out of his head, ringing in his ears, his heart
beat thudding in the deafening flash of pleasure pounding through him. Over and
over, emptying himself, feeling stricken by it, stretched by it, and it still
wasn't enough. Jolting and bucking under Mulder, his legs shaking, he felt the last spurts
of his come as they flew out to decorate his chest.. He absently noticed a fleck had even landed on Mulder's throat, and he
wanted to lick there, to clean it off. Mulder's words reached him as the man
stilled, for the time being, leaving him still fully penetrated on that large
cock, "You didn't look in my eyes when you came. But that's okay, Alex, because
as soon as you've got your breath back, we'll be continuing on, here." "Fuck," he croaked, not able to muster any other coherent response. Mulder let go of his cock, which was softening slightly but not completely.
"Hey," he whispered, looking into Alex's face. "You okay?" Just the fact that it wasn't over, and he was still pinned like a helpless
butterfly beneath him, skewered on Mulder's cock, made him let out a shaky
breath in response. "Yeah, I guess so." Mulder slid back a couple of inches and then slid back into him, harder.
"Good." Alex gasped, and had to hold his breath as the sensation overwhelmed him.
His member jerked a little, stirring back to life. Mulder repeated the action,
this time changing the angle to aim for the sweet spot... And Alex found himself
scrabbling with his hand to grab Mulder by the back of the neck. "You like?" Mulder asked him. "I guess that works, doesn't it?" "Y-yeah. Just—keep going." Mulder narrowed his eyes. "Keep your eyes on me this time. Stay with me."
And he began fucking him in earnest now. Long, slow but hard thrusts, exactly what Alex had been wishing for, sending
him back with every push even as he lay unmoving on the bed, pressing him
backwards under Mulder's sweetly heavy weight and leaving reverberating shocks
of pleasure lancing through him. He had to fight to remember to keep his eyes on
Mulder's, but the encouragement he saw there in his eyes at his ability to do so
helped him find the trust he'd been looking for. Until Mulder smiled down at him and said, with accompanying thrusts to
punctuate his words, "Tell me that you love me." Impossibly, his cock stiffened at this, more so than at the sensations of
Mulder's cock plowing into him. He gasped out loud, not taking his eyes from
Mulder's, which were dark and feverish now, "I love you, oh God, I love you, I
do, I've always loved you, want—oh
fuck—Mulder—you—M-Mulder—" "And I love you," Mulder growled, possessively, "I'm going to love you from
now on, just like this. You're mine, and I'm gonna make you mine, I'm gonna FUCK
you—" a hard thrust accented this, "—until you beg me to stop. And then I'm
gonna fuck you some more." Mulder was losing it, he was getting manic, and his
thrusts were starting to drop out of rhythm, and Alex knew he was close. "I'm
gonna fuck the come out of you," Mulder promised him. "You're my bitch." Alex was open-mouthed now, feeling the imminent pressure in his balls
climbing again, almost too much, about to blow... "Tell me you're my bitch," Mulder ordered, with another one of those
devastating thrusts. "Say it!" "I'm your bitch," Alex gasped out, breathing fast and almost wanting to beg
for Mulder to flip him over, because the position of holding himself like this
was making his knees shake. Or maybe it was the fact that Mulder's eyes were
holding him in position far more effectively now than any command. Mulder's hand moved again, grabbed at his cock, and he was jerking into him,
hard. "You gonna come for me, again? Come with me," Mulder said, his voice going
harsh. He was on the edge, Alex could tell. Suited him fine too, because he was
so close himself. So fucking close... "Mulder, M—" He found Mulder leaning down, straining against him, stretching
his legs a little too widely, as Mulder's mouth shut him up, those full lips
moving on his, Mulder's tongue lashing inside his mouth, stroking hard against
his tongue. Rearing back, Mulder began to hump against him, inside of him, quickly, in a
staccato of jerks, as he said in a helpless voice, "Oh, fuck, Alex—I love
you, love you so much, oh FUCK—" and he emitted a high series of yelps as
he came inside Alex's ass, deeply, pressed all the way inside of him. Alex felt answering tears gather behind his eyes, and he couldn't stop them
from leaking from the corners of either side of his eyelids, leaving wet trails
in their wake as Mulder's eyes looked into his, Mulder's face looking ravaged
and broken. And he came, in response to the words, even as Mulder's cock still
leaped inside of him. Long, slow pulsing waves of his orgasm, extended and drawn
out almost painfully as he came a second time. Mulder smiled a little at him, as
he shuddered under him. "Alex," Mulder whispered, encouragingly. "That's it, come for me." And those darkened eyes were too much, and he couldn't stop the tears from
flowing freely. He turned his face away, to the right. It was too much. It was
all he wanted, it was all he'd ever wanted. And he couldn't help feeling bereft.
He was totally filled, totally satisfied and it still wasn't enough. He had to
believe Mulder meant it. There was too much love and acceptance and enjoyment in
Mulder's eyes, in his face, in his words, the way he made love to him. It was
scary. It was frightening. And he couldn't help sniffing, still trembling with little uncontrollable
silent sobs as Mulder's soft, hot tongue traced over the damp trail on his left
cheek, and by his eye. "Salt, tears, sweat and come," Mulder murmured. "You're delicious." Alex tightened his hold on him. But Mulder moved back. "Gotta move, we're
gonna stick together and besides, I can't stay in this position forever," Mulder
said. Alex let him go, feeling properly fucked and deserted as Mulder moved away,
off the bed, leaving the room. He drifted, allowing his eyes to close, before shivering once as another
little breeze moved over his bare, flushed and sweaty skin. It was cooler this
time, and shook the curtains more vigorously. The sun was getting very low now.
The light was turning slightly orange. Mulder came back in with a wet towel and a dry one. He climbed back on the
bed next to Alex and began cleaning him off. "This isn't the last time, you
know," Mulder commented. "I did promise to take good care of you, and I will."
He flicked a glance up at Alex. "I know," Alex responded, although he was very glad that Mulder wasn't just
letting the spirit of what they'd just done dwindle away in the aftermath. "In fact, in light of recent events and revelations," Mulder continued,
thoughtfully, "let me ask you something. If you could have anything from me,
anything at all, what would it be?" Alex stopped, that familiar cold little sick feeling going over him. He
realized it was resignation. "No, no," Mulder said, "Don't—don't worry. Don't think, don't think
about it at all. Just say it. Let yourself say it. Trust me." Alex wiped at his face with his hand, and sniffed. "I want you every night.
I want to sleep with you, and to know that I won't lose you in the morning."
Nodding, Mulder said, "Okay. I'll be right back. Don't... move. Don't do
anything. Okay?" Alex was confused. "What? Why?" Mulder was pulling on his shorts and pants, and turned to him before moving
for the door. "I just have to make a phone call." And Mulder left the room,
shutting the bedroom door behind him. Alex sat up, frowning. He felt no compunction whatsoever to feel guilty
about eavesdropping and went to the bedroom door, opening it a crack. "Yeah, Scully? Hi. Yeah. Oh yeah, everything's fine. Listen, I wanted to ask
you something. You know how we were talking last week about—" Mulder
paused. "yeah, that's right. Well, I think that such an arrangement might
actually be more necessary that we thought." He paused again, for a much longer
time. "Yep. Okay. We'll see you tomorrow morning." Alex quickly turned and went back to the bed, sitting down on the edge of
it, wondering what the fuck Mulder and Scully were doing, and what they'd been
talking about. And what the 'arrangement' they referred to was all about. The
curiosity of whether or not they'd been discussing him was overwhelming. He'd
never really wanted to know what Mulder told her about what they did together.
Now he really wished he could have been a fly on the wall. Mulder came back into the room and smiled at him, broadly. "Hey. We've got a
proposition for you. I was talking with Scully last week—" "Dana," Alex corrected, almost without having to think about it. Mulder paused. "Yeah. Well, I was telling her that it isn't enough to just
see you once in a blue moon, now and again, and she agreed it wasn't fair on you
OR me, really. She said she's already sharing me with you, and that there's only
one stipulation she has for us. If you want to sleep over, with me, you have to
be prepared to share the bed with her too. Um..." Mulder looked unsure. "I don't
know how you feel about that, because we haven't really discussed it, have we?"
Alex's head was whirling. "Mulder," he said, weakly, "Mulder, I never
considered it. Her, I mean. Uh, you and me, that's—that's different." Mulder gave him an uncertain look. "You don't want to, that's okay. I'll
have to stay over here." Alex swallowed and licked his lips, considering. "At first, yeah. We can
talk about it. I mean, yeah, we haven't exactly talked about that, have we? I
thought she was off-limits. She's YOURS," he said, meaningfully. "Oh, I don't know," Mulder said, his expression turning thoughtful and
distant. "I can see the two of you together. As long as all three of us are
there, taking part, I wouldn't be jealous. But I'm not sure that either of you
would be able to handle it." Alex's pride rose up at this. "I'm sure I could. Later. Once you and me are
sorted out." Mulder deflated with relief. "Good. That's settled then." He came to sit
back on the bed and lie back, letting himself fall backward on the other side.
Alex frowned, following suit and lying beside him. What exactly had he just
gotten himself into? He turned his face to watch Mulder. "I guess we're both sharing you, anyway,
even now." Mulder's lips curved in a smile. "You bet your sweet ass, baby." This really wasn't a very apropos response, considering. But Alex grinned
back, anyway. He rolled in Mulder's direction and kissed him on the cheek,
leaving his face pressed against Mulder's tenderly. Mulder's arms came up to hold onto him. "So you like this, then? It isn't as
scary as you thought it would be, is it?" "I don't know, Fox. You might have to do it again a few times, just to make
sure." Mulder opened his eyes and looked at him from beneath his lids. "You can
count on that. We've got all night tonight, in any case. You won't be able to
walk tomorrow. Which will be unfortunate, as we have to go back to my place for
a meeting with Scully in the morning." Alex stiffened. "I'm not sure why that's necessary." Mulder's grip tightened around him. "It's okay. We had both agreed that a
year is long enough for you and I to get to know each other—as well as
trust each other. And she knows how you feel about me. Neither of us wants you
to be suffering, you know. We kind of anticipated this." "You did." Alex began to feel played. Had Mulder... known all along? Mulder was grinning at him, cheekily. Realization dawned. "You knew." Alex stared at him. Mulder kissed him on the nose. "You're so obvious. It was kind of hard to
miss." "Goddamn it," Alex stated, wanting to say more but not sure if he wasn't in
fact really glad, as it had saved a lot of fucking time and heartache and pain,
and proved that Mulder—and Dana too, in fact—weren't as blind to
people's emotional needs as he'd thought. He smiled. Mulder kissed him again and murmured, "That's better. You see, Alex, we've
both of us known all along the very obvious truth: you've always been my little
love-slave. We're just making it a reality now, that's all. In our
relationship." "Yeah, all right," Alex sighed, a little grouchily. "You can't complain," Mulder said. "You loved it. I know you did." Alex grinned. "Okay, okay. Enough already. Damn it, the two of you are going
to be unbearable tomorrow, aren't you?" "Ha. I'm going to be unbearable again in a few minutes," Mulder countered.
"I only came once. And I find I'm wanting to get my hands on your ass again."
"Hm. I never would have thought that servitude would be so mushy," Alex
said. "'Mushy'?" Mulder asked, with a note of incredulity. "Smoochy. Romantic." "Shut up, slave, and kiss me," Mulder commanded, in a mock masterful tone.
Alex complied, wondering if he was going to survive the night. With a
secretive grin, he realized happiness really was called Fox Mulder. The End
Afternoon
by Jami Wilsen
Alex waited, watching the numbers on his watch slowly crawling in the late
afternoon. 
