Rose-Tinted World by Jami Wilsen Alex is dozing in his seat when a hand on his right arm gently shakes him awake. "We'll be landing soon," Mulder informs him. "We just started our descent." With a bone-popping stretch, Alex tries to work the stiffness out of his muscles. "I hate falling asleep on planes." Mulder is looking pensively out the window and doesn't reply. The bright sun is shining off the wing and reflecting through the window, illuminating Mulder's face, and Alex can't help thinking again that he really prefers seeing Mulder in daylight. He wonders if Mulder would be at all freaked out about being naked with him in light as well as darkness... He finds it a turn-on but then maybe Mulder would have a problem being with him like that... with another man...both of them naked...exposed... Rather than under the cover of darkness, where they can hide the obvious issue of Mulder's heretofore straight identity. Hm. Maybe the whole gay aspect of this thing is starting to get to Mulder. But that doesn't tally with what Mulder said the night before, about discovering love and truth and whatever. Alex frowns. And tries not to start letting his mind wander down worrisome and fearful paths. He would have thought Mulder would have more of a problem with him being who he was, Alex Scum-of-the-Earth-Murdering-Lying-Traitor Krycek, rather than dwelling on the fact they were both men. But now he can't help wondering if Mulder will remain as cool about it as he appears, and finds with some surprise that he really, really doesn't want to lose this. It means far too much to him than is probably sane or self-preserving. If it came to the very edge, he suspects he'd probably have no qualms about begging. On his knees. And scowls at the idea of being pussy-whipped over someone he'd merely had a crush on for years. It was only a crush, for God's sake! Okay, an infatuation. But still! Jesus, how could they really expect to make this last? Or evolve into something meaningful and enduring? He's aware that his mind is spinning out scenarios now, all fully stuck in overdrive in the future. Fuck it. He doesn't have anything left to lose, or anything better to do. What Mulder had said that morning returns to him. Yeah, that gift horse. He breathes. Relax... And wait. He waits. He watches Mulder watching the clouds fly beneath them. He waits, wondering if Mulder is beginning to doubt the sanity of what they are embarking upon, as he is. Finally, he can't stand not knowing and asks point blank, in as calm a voice as he can muster, "Having second thoughts?" Mulder turns, regarding him worriedly. "You mentioned the Honeymoon Suite." Alex raises his brows. "And?" Mulder asks uncomfortably, "It isn't... pink, is it?" "Pink," Alex repeats, not getting where Mulder is going with this. He waits, staring back at Mulder, wondering when he'll get to the point. "You know, that sort of frothy, nauseating frilly stuff that looks like a six-year old has vomited up a tub of strawberry ice-cream over it?" Alex blinks at the mental image Mulder has effortlessly created. "I take it you don't like pink." Mulder turns to regard the hazy blue sky out of the airplane window again. "I don't know. Don't you think that it's overdone? You know, the whole 'satin sheets, ruffled bedspread, wedding nightmare of a low-budget porn studio' look?" Alex is on the verge of bursting out with laughter but he remains indifferent with an extreme effort. "Stop being such a baby. If it's good enough for thousands of interior designers and newly-weds the world over, why should we complain? And you like porn, so why is it even a problem? Besides, it's Helena—what else do you expect?" Mulder looks even more mournful at this. "I know. Why did you have to pick Helena for a stopover? I know we said the middle of nowhere, but damn. That's buffalo country. How long are we going to be there?" Alex can barely keep his lips from twisting into a smile. With a twitch, he says, "Low profile, Mulder. I figure we need at least a week to find out just how long I can keep you from coming when my dick's up your ass." Mulder raises his brows at Alex in disbelief. "Are you kidding? Two men, both wearing black leather—in the Honeymoon Suite, no less—on an extended stay? I must have missed that FBI undercover protocol. That doesn't fit any idea of low-profile that I can ever recall seeing." Alex can't stop a grin from coming over him at this. "It's quite a picture, isn't it? Did you bring handcuffs? We could order them in." Mulder licks his lips. "You're trying to humiliate me, aren't you? This was the plan, all along." Alex snickers at Mulder's discomfort. "You can be my little buffalo soldier." "If you tell me to cowboy up, you'll be wearing a gag along with the cuffs." Mulder says, wounded. "At least we'll have cable." "Cheer up," Alex suggests. "It could be worse. You could be there with a woman—who would undoubtedly fall in love with it and insist on redecorating your bedroom in pink satin." Mulder squirms, scowling and looking even more worried. "For God's sake, I doubt that it's even pink," Alex offers. "It's probably..." He stops, trying to think of a tint. Mulder waits. "What? It's probably what?" He shrugs. "I don't know—salmon, or peach or something. Not an actual, authentic shade of pink. Besides, I thought you were color blind." "That's it. Mock me. Humiliate me and then mock me. Then fuck me," Mulder sulks. He adds, in a more normal, conversational tone, "And I'm not that blind. I just have trouble with red and green." But Alex is beginning to get it. Mulder doesn't sound like he's really upset about it. Alex can tell that something is troubling him. What else could it possibly be? "This isn't about the color, or the satin or the room, is it? It's about me." Mulder swivels, a new look coming over him. "No, no, that's not what I was implying." Alex looks away. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can get separate rooms." "Alex." Mulder's voice is straight, no nonsense now. "I was joking. Can't you take a joke?" Alex lets out an exasperated breath and allows his head to fall back. "Sure. It's funny. Side-splitting. You and me in a Honeymoon Suite; that's a good one." To his surprise, Mulder starts chuckling quietly beside him. He's about to take offense when Mulder explains, "Hey, I have no intention of letting you back out of this now. I haven't fucked you yet. Or made you scream, even. Remember? I was just passing time; I didn't mean for us to have a semantic argument over it. I don't have a problem with you and me making long, slow, luxurious love over the next week in the same bed, in the same room, in the same city. I just don't know if I'll be able to sustain an erection if I'm surrounded by pink satin." Alex's mouth is open at the thought of making love to Mulder on a satin bed. He wets his lower lip with his tongue. "I don't care if it's red, white and blue—as long as you and I don't leave there until we're both too sore to walk." Mulder's face lights up. "Now that would actually be an improvement. Especially considering the patriotic calling of both our careers to date. Hey, I wouldn't even mind red and yellow with the Soviet hammer motif everywhere. It would be kinky. A gay Russian porn flick...Hell, you were even with the KGB, yeah? That could be a real turn-on for me." He stares at Alex, nodding meaningfully. "Yep. We'll need the cuffs after all." Alex grins at him. "If it's neon green, you're on your own. I can't stand those cheap alien effects. Fluorescent, little-gray-alien lamp stands. Imagine having that standing beside the bed in the dark. But I have to say I really like the thought of seeing you in pink satin. As long as I get to liberate you from it." Mulder shook his head. "I won't wear garters for anyone, not even you. The line has to be drawn somewhere." Alex nodded. "Got it. No garters." Mulder gives him a searching gaze. "Seriously though, did you really think I was having second thoughts?" Alex tries to think of a reply. And swallows. He feels like he just managed to miss stepping on a tripwire or something. "Because, you know, I'm looking forward to this." Mulder sounds sincere. It goes a long way to reassuring Alex that he's on the level. "It's better than hiding out in the desert like a lizard, wondering what it was all for. At least this way, I can spend some quality time getting into your head, finding out all the good stuff you've been keeping from me. We have a lot of catching up to do." Mulder gives him a dazzling smile. Feeling stupid for having doubted him, Alex clears his throat. "So, it's to be interrogation, huh?" "You'd better believe it, Comrade," Mulder promises throatily, leaning towards him. "I want to make good on that strip-search fantasy I was having in the airport." Alex is grinning. "I knew it. You really can't keep your hands off me, can you?" Mulder thrusts his hand against Alex's crotch in reply, rubbing between his legs with an open palm. He's practically grinding his hand into him and Alex is suddenly sucking a breath into his lungs as his cock responds, his nerves leaping eagerly. Alex looks around them. No one cares. No one sees, all preoccupied with getting ready to disembark. "You wanna go down on me, Agent Mulder?" "Do you want me to, Triple-Agent Krycek?" "Do you hate pink?" Mulder licks his lips, not removing his hand. "Do I detect—yes, I'm definitely getting a signal... right about here." He gives him one final squeeze and then removes his hand, looking up as one of the flight attendants walks by. Alex is snickering helplessly. He suspects the feeling of mirth is really mostly composed of relief that Mulder is in such a good mood. It could very easily have ended up with Mulder bailing out. "So I'm your sun, huh?" Mulder is smiling at him. He licks his lips, suddenly feeling warm all over. It's not a sexual tingle at all. Well, not much. And he realizes he is so fucked. Mulder was right. He really has got him. "Yeah. And I'm yours, for as long as you want me." Mulder doesn't pick up on that though, because he is already off on some weird trip through his mind. Sure enough, Mulder drawls, "Very appropriate. After all, Arizona is our final destination. The Phoenix Suns." And he grins, happily. Alex is lost. "What?" "The basketball team," Mulder urges. "Oh, right. Right. Basketball." "Don't worry, it's too late for us to get any season tickets now anyway... Probably. But I'll make it up to you. I like the indoor sports so far, too." "Yeah, I noticed. Riding bareback, Jesus—and Mulder, where'd you learn to suck cock like that?" Alex is honestly curious. Mulder turns prim and proper, obviously having emulated Scully in the past and refined it over the years. "I don't kiss and tell." "Like hell," Alex chuckles. "Give me just thirty seconds with your prostate again and I'll get it out of you." Mulder shakes his head. "It's not my turn to be on the receiving end of rectal probes, tonight. I have to make good on that promise. I WILL make you scream," he adds with a dark whisper, abruptly leaning in again with his eyes holding Alex's. The stewardess passes by again, and Mulder turns back to the window. Alex is trying to control his breathing. There is something... unavoidably arousing about Mulder in a seductive mood. He can't be blamed for any involuntary noises or reactions. Hell, no one could resist it when Mulder adopted that sexually, predatorily determined attitude. And realizes he is so biased that it isn't even funny. The plane is descending quickly now through the thick gray clouds. As the sunlight has gone, replaced with gloomily overcast gray, Alex finds his mood shifts to keep pace. He feels tense again. The whole... 'love' thing... He can't help wondering how long it will last, and then wonders if he worries too much, it might end up precipitating the very thing he wants to avoid. It could easily become a self-fulfilling prophecy. But it's like a pipe dream. This...fling. There's just no realistic future with both of them sharing a house with curtains or even a damn pink satin bed. He wonders how the hell he's going to get through this without fucking it up, without inadvertently saying something that triggers Mulder's volatile temper. There are too many landmines—like 'father'—and 'betrayal'—buried in all the past ground they have each been through over the years, both together and in their separate battles against their enemies. He really doesn't want a fight. But how realistic is it that they'll be able to stand even two days in close proximity without ending up at gunpoint again? And he winces as he realizes that he doesn't have his gun. He had to send it on ahead, via a friend's courier service. He is close to calling in the last of his favors in this country. Oh well. At least they're even. Mulder has no weapon, either. It was one of the reasons he'd chosen an out-of-the-way city, one they could hide in relatively easily. He won't be able to pick up a gun again until they arrive in Phoenix. There are bound to be people looking for both of them, for separate reasons, in any of the major airports. Considering how hot his companion is, remaining weaponless for any extended period of time makes him feel worse than naked. On the heels of this thought, Alex can't help considering all the other numerous ways in which Mulder is hot, too. He smiles. Glancing at Mulder out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mulder is watching their descent, looking out the window at the view. He wishes he could ask him what he sees. Is Mulder seeing the city below, or some inner vision that might hold a clue about what he really feels about all this so far? But he doesn't want to keep mewling at Mulder. Whatever happened to his pride? He realizes part of him is terrified at having to trust that Mulder really means this. All of it. Alex lets out a breath, feeling like shit that he can't... let go. And just trust. Disappointment is too familiar an old friend to not expect in the end. They've broken out of the cloud cover and Helena is stretched out below. He's actually very glad they'll be landing soon. He's feeling tired now, that frustrating sensation of having missed too many full nights' sleep. For many of the passengers, this is just a pause in the journey. For him, it's the end of the line. He suspects the coming evening will make or break the delicate bond they have created. He wonders if Fox Mulder would object to finding any pink in their future... Or if he's just refusing to look at what Mulder is giving him here through anything other than rose-tinted shades. "It's a home away from home," Mulder quips, indicating the refrigerator and the microwave. "Those cheap bastards." Alex drops the bag he's holding by the side of the bed. "Who?" Going to the window, he takes in the view. From here, he can see the highway, the entire front of the building and its surrounds below. "The Eff. Bee. Eye," Mulder drawls. "All this time Scully and I have been staying in the roach section, when we could've been traveling in style. This place is better than my apartment." Alex lifts a brow at him. "It's better than most people's apartments... most people's homes," he emphasizes. Mulder sits on the edge of the king-sized bed and runs a hand through his hair. He yawns. "I know. I'm just sayin'," he says, with a meaningful glance at Alex. "They could've given me a little credit, you know?" Alex begins unpacking, arranging bags so that they'd be less obtrusive, and decides against unpacking anything except the most necessary items. "Yeah, tell me about it." He straightens, and takes in Mulder's tired face. "So, I take it you approve?" "Damn straight," Mulder says, letting himself fall backward on the bed where he sits. "No pink anywhere. Maybe I should order some in for you." "I won't wear an evening gown," Mulder murmurs quietly, staring up at the ceiling. "I'll settle for room service." Mulder stirs at that. "True. What do you want?" "Just whatever they've got. You choose. I'm going downstairs." Mulder looks curiously at him. "Why?" "Check out the back. I just have to make sure I know the weak spots and entry points into the building." Mulder considers him thoughtfully. "You're a good man to have around, Krycek. I didn't even think of that. Although that's partly your fault, for lulling me into a sense of security." And he smiles at Alex, taking the slight bite out of his words. That warm glow is back, covering him with confusion. Now that he's in the hotel room alone with Mulder, it's neutrally shared territory rather than Mulder's space and he feels a quiver of excitement deep down. In fact, he's actually holding the reins and Mulder's letting him—letting HIM!—decide the moves, make the arrangements... It's heady. It feels like having some kind of extensive date. And he can't even begin to allow himself to mull over the impending promise that Mulder keeps telling him he's going to make good on... Looking down, ducking his chin, he says, "I'll be right back." Moving decisively past the long end of the bed, he isn't prepared for Mulder, who gets up swiftly and intercepts him with a hand on his shoulder. Turning around to face him with some surprise, Alex is taken aback at Mulder's soft expression. "Thanks for this," Mulder says, his face looming large in Alex's vision, too close not to hold in one's breath at such proximity. "Thank you." He puts both hands on either side of Alex's face and leans in. Alex is still tense and in spite of all the things they've done so far, he still isn't prepared for the feel of Mulder's lips on his: warm, soft, gentle... He gasps against Mulder's mouth, his eyes closing in spite of himself, losing his grip on reality in the ecstasy of having...this miracle again. His hands move of their own volition to Mulder's waist and he steps into it, bringing their bodies together. It doesn't last long enough and Mulder's beloved lips are gone in the next few moments. Alex almost whimpers at the loss. His eyes flutter open to see Mulder regarding him fondly. Mulder tilts his head slightly. "I'll order us up some food. Don't be long." Alex slackens a little, allowing himself to relax despite the delicious sensation of Mulder's hands on his neck, against his face. He swallows. "Okay." Mulder steps away and Alex takes a breath, straightening before turning to leave the room. He throws a glance over his shoulder as he opens the door and sees Mulder going to his bags, opening them and removing clothing. It's only for a moment but Alex is frozen, desperately photographing this precious scene in his mind. He catalogues it, remembering it, holding it as one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen. He leaves the room, feeling like he's in an out-of-body experience. Mulder sits in the easy chair by the window, balancing a plate heaped with selected goodies. There's steak lightly chargrilled in brandy and butter, baked potatoes with sour cream, green vegetables, soft rolls and even red wine. There's some kind of herb chicken fillets, garnished with little foreign objects Mulder doesn't recognize. Room service has sent up an entire assortment of appetizers, too: little plates of snack crackers, cheeses, fishy dishes... This is the life, he muses while wondering if retirement was ever supposed to taste this good. The sun is low in the sky, setting over Mount Helena and breaking through the overcast clouds with dull, reddish-orange light. In spite of his deliberate teasing of Alex on the plane earlier, Mulder wasn't concerned about the room. He's in fact really pleased with the results of Alex's take-charge attitude and care of the situation. They're in the Executive Suite of the Hampton Inn, one of the offshoots of the Hilton chain, and it shows in the tasteful, expensive dÈcor, the sumptuous blue and gold covers of the bed... the utilities. The Jacuzzi in the corner of the room by the bed. The possibilities of that Jacuzzi keep floating to the forefront of his thoughts. And there's cable. He has the TV on, the sound down low, checking the news channels where CNN is still obsessed with the Hunt For Bin Laden. Mulder snorts derisively and wonders, not for the first or the last time, exactly what the Colonists' stake is behind this outward global agenda. He is a little surprised to find that he's not at all suspicious about Krycek's motives, however. In fact, he isn't even worried that Krycek won't come back. He's far too certain of Krycek's feelings regarding their departure together to this place. The man is so obviously insecure, and will probably need constant reassurance for the duration of their stay at the hotel here. Mulder doesn't mind. He sees it as part-payment for Krycek putting out so much on his behalf. After all, if they really do intend to put the past between them and allow this truce to be a real relationship, the trust has to start somewhere. And Mulder is gratified to see that no matter how many times they have sex, Krycek is still completely undone by just one kiss. He forks another piece of steak into his mouth, smiling. He loves keeping Krycek off-balance with unexpected tenderness. He loves to watch Krycek crumble, all that reserve melting so fast into panting desire and need, laced all the while with that almost heart-breaking, pleading look in those long-fringed eyes. It makes him feel wanted. And it makes up for all the times Krycek has batted his eyelashes and feigned ignorance in the past, all the while leading him along some predetermined course Krycek has planned in advance, leading him by his own need for recognition. And, he thinks dully to himself, let's face it: my need for someone to look up to me like this. To value me, and want me and actually admire me. It's almost embarrassing to admit how much he loves having Krycek's hero-worship. Having Krycek wanting him in every way does a lot to soothe his wounded ego, long ago starved and finally bricked away from hurt in a world that refused to ever admit his accuracy, his abilities, and his search for the truth. In a world of lies and liars, it's more than a little ironic that the one companion who would believe in him and not humor him or call him crazy was the same man who'd lied to him, either outright or by omission, so many times. But they'd both died; that much was true. And he knew that having been resurrected—and according to Alex Krycek, because of Krycek's own efforts to administer that vaccine—well, it had changed his outlook on his life. Made him reassess his own beliefs and agenda. Certainly he has to accept that a similar effect has changed Krycek's plans for his life and future. The sounds of the traffic on the nearby highway are muted by the glass of the window, yet still audible. Mulder can hear voices and a television coming through the floor from the room below them. But he doesn't care. If anything, it's almost reassuring. He realizes that they're going to need coffee and he gets up, setting up the coffee maker. He wonders if Krycek is going to even be interested in doing anything this evening, considering how frazzled they both feel. Mulder is just travel weary, and not really feeling that tired, even though he hasn't been getting much sleep. There's an interesting buzz in his body that he can feel resonating all the way into his bones. Something to do with the intimacy and excitement of staying here with Krycek. He goes to sit back down, returning to his plate and is just picking it up when the door opens. Krycek stands there for a second, looking at him, and then comes in and shuts the door. "Satisfied with the place?" Mulder asks him, around a mouthful of food. "Yeah," Krycek says, curtly. Mulder motions with his fork in the direction of the plates on the trolley. "Try the steak. It's excellent." "It smells good." Krycek looks lost, blinking for a moment before going to the other side of the bed that seems to be designated 'his' for the time being, and removes his boots, his leather jacket and then sits down. He moves his head around, obviously working out kinks in his neck. "The Jacuzzi is a nice touch," Mulder mentions. "I have plans for it later." Krycek looks over his shoulder at it on the opposite side of the bed. He doesn't reply. Mulder narrows his eyes. Obviously Krycek's been thinking it over while he scoped out the hotel. He stifles a sigh, knowing that he really ought to be just as suspicious about their seemingly mutual trust as Krycek is. But the thought of having to spend the entire goddamned week fretting over whether or not Krycek's playing him is merely annoying. What's more, the man's so jumpy that he doubts Krycek could be putting on an act. Setting him up at this point would serve no purpose... And moreover, Mulder's trusted his intuition before. Despite all the times he's let down his guard and let Krycek manipulate him, this time is different. He can feel it. Krycek... is scared. Got what you wanted, eh? Mulder observes silently, watching from the corner of his eye as Krycek sits on the bed for several long minutes. Finally, Krycek appears to give in to hunger and gets up, going over to the food and helping himself to what's left. Which is considerable, even despite Mulder's appetite so far. Mulder can relate, however much he enjoys seeing Krycek off-balance. It's a hell of a commitment to decide to throw in their lot together like this, calling each other's bluffs in the sexual arena and then tossing in their hearts along with their trust. He considers the way Krycek is concentrating on the dishes of food and decides to test the waters. "Did you find anything interesting?" Krycek sits on the sofa, angled away from Mulder to face the room at large. He balances his plate on one knee and says, "They have a breakfast bar. It'll be worth going down tomorrow morning." "I'm more interested in the gym. But sure." Krycek busies himself with the contents of his plate and Mulder is starting to get the drift of his mood. Mulder decides to go for broke. "I think I should be the one asking about having second thoughts." Krycek shoots him a darting, furtive look before turning to frown at his plate. He licks his lips. He still hasn't tasted anything. "Doesn't this, I don't know, weird you out?" "Sure. But I like weird. Thrive on it, in fact. Why? Is this getting to you?" "I'm not having second thoughts," Krycek replies, sidestepping the question. He finally starts to eat, to Mulder's relief. Mulder spears his last bite of steak from his plate, mopping up the last traces of brandy butter gravy with it before finishing it off. He can feel the tension mounting in the room, now that they're settled in and can just let the evening flow on. "The hotel is new," Krycek comments. "The staff are pleasant. I had a few words with a couple of them downstairs." "Good. I'm more concerned with why you're avoiding me here. Care to tell me what's up?" Mulder asks, with a nonchalance he knows will probably nettle Krycek. Krycek shrugs, settling back into the sofa more comfortably. His eyes on the television, he answers, "Not much." He flicks a glance at Mulder. "I guess it's just a question of adapting." Mulder puts his plate down and raises his brows inquiringly. "Adapting?" he echoes. "How does one adapt to having one's dreams come true?" Krycek seems to reflect upon this. "I guess the same as one adapts...to anything. To dying and then being resurrected from the dead." "Hm. Touche. So, staying here in a hotel with me is a near death experience for you?" Krycek swallows his mouthful and gives Mulder an odd look. Mulder continues, "I know this is a leap, for both of us, but I feel like I'm having to provide all the enthusiasm here. I thought this was something you wanted." Krycek nods slowly. "I do. It's not that I don't want this... or you." He exhales, considering the television again. "It's just that I'm not sure what this IS, exactly." Mulder says with surprise, "I thought you arranged this so that we'd have a chance to adjust, to acclimatize to each other." Krycek gives him a twisted little smile. "Yeah. Well, that was secondary. The first priority in my mind was to get you away and safe somewhere. And in somewhat more adequate surroundings than a cold boxcar." "Okay, sure. It wasn't a boxcar, actually. I was going to buy a train ticket. Riding coach, economy fare. But maybe you can explain to me why it is that you're so leery of, I don't know... letting GO, letting your guard down with me." Krycek puts down his fork and rubs his eyes. "It's all moving a bit fast." Mulder is starting to feel exasperated at Krycek's apparent lack of romantic intention. "I thought you were primarily motivated with a need to see me." Krycek throws him an apprehensive look. Mulder knows it probably sounded self-absorbed, but he doesn't care. After all, Krycek was the one showing up at his door after midnight while spouting words of true love, however couched in nervous bravado they may have been. But now it starts to grow clearer, Mulder realizes. Krycek feels like he already taken the chance and now it's Mulder's turn to put out. To put his feelings on the line. And he realizes that he was correct before Krycek returned to their room: he's going to have to be the one doing the reassuring. After all, there was that promise he'd made. Mulder can't stop a grin from sliding across at this. Oh, yeahhhh. He is going to fuck him, come hell or high water, and damn Krycek's little virginal act he's putting on here. Getting up and putting away his plate, he moves to the coffee maker. Pouring himself a cup, he asks, "I hope you kept the lube handy. Coffee?" Krycek stares at him. "What?" "Do you want some coffee?" "Yeah, thanks." Krycek throws a surreptitiously covert look over at the small brown paper bag sitting on the bedside cabinet beside the basket of flowers and complimentary soaps. Mulder chuckles quietly to himself. So that was where he'd put it. He pours Krycek a cup also, enjoying the way the anticipation surges in his bloodstream, his heart beating a little faster, feeling the electricity dance invisibly as it arcs between them. His cock twitches in response and he wonders if Krycek is aware of it too. As he moves to Krycek's side across the room, Mulder realizes it feels abnormal to him for a hotel room to be this spacious. Holding the hot cup out to him, Mulder remarks, "Your first priority may be my safety, but mine is to make sure that both our dreams come true." As Krycek takes the coffee, he mutters almost inaudible thanks. Mulder notes with satisfaction that Krycek's hand isn't too steady. So he IS feeling it, after all. Mulder sips from his cup and moves to put it down, then walks around the bed to pick up the paper bag. Opening it, he peers inside. "Aha, there you are," he comments delightedly. A stolen glance reveals Krycek is ignoring him. Making a production of it, Mulder takes out the bottle of lube and reads aloud. "'O'My Lubricant'. Oh my, indeed. And with hemp, no less. Krycek, you'll spoil us." Krycek looks up at him, surveying him with an expression that Mulder can't decipher. But he looks thoughtful. "I'm not having second thoughts," he says again. "No," Mulder agrees. "You're just worried that I am. Which I'm not. What can I do to make you believe me?" Hefting the large bottle of lube in his hand, he adds, "I suppose the only way is to fuck you senseless." At Krycek's lack of any change of expression, he thoughtfully continues, "Ah, I've got it." He puts the lube on the bedside unit and approaches Krycek until he's standing over him. Krycek looks up at him, taken aback at how close he is, trying to balance both a hot cup of coffee in one hand and his plate in the other, steadying it on his lap. With a wry smile, Mulder leans down and kisses him on the mouth. Sweet. Very sweet. Krycek's lips taste of brandy-buttery-steak and longing for him. He's got his answer. Not lingering—however much he'd like to—he straightens back up despite the confusion and desire on Krycek's face. Mulder retrieves his coffee and sits back down in the easy chair by the window. Looking over at the results, he is gratified to see that melted, vulnerable look is back, and apparently there to stay. Good. Definitely the way to go. "I'll guess I'll have to keep proving it to you," he murmurs, taking a casual sip. Krycek puts down his cup and attacks his steak, a nice shade of pink creeping into his cheeks. Despite Mulder's earlier assertions, he rather likes it on Krycek. Chewing his lower lip, he considers the best way to strip him. His eyes rove to the tub at the other end of the room. That's it. He's well aware they've been covering the uncertainty of what this will turn into as they proceed, with a veneer of sexual innuendo and practical matters. But he's never been content with avoidance, no matter how thorny the issue and besides—what the hell were they here for, anyway? He's still a little astonished that they haven't dissipated any of the friction between them. It appears that whether they are fighting or fucking, it doesn't make any difference. They still have this...THING between them. He smiles happily to himself and settles into his seat, crossing his legs and picking up the remote control. "You don't mind, do you?" He begins to channel flip. Krycek shakes his head briefly and gets up to help himself to more food. "Do you want to watch anything?" Krycek shakes his head again. "Not really. But if you want to..." he trails off, leaving it up to Mulder. Mulder clicks off the set. "Nah, you're right. It's much more fun watching you watching me while you pretend that you aren't." Krycek stiffens and he has a slightly amused expression when he turns to face Mulder. "Let me see if I've got this right: you're actually enjoying yourself at my expense?" Mulder shrugs with a lift of one shoulder. "I've never had the opportunity to enjoy having someone in love with me before." Krycek lets out a scornful noise at this. He takes his plate back to the sofa and sits, remarking, "So that's what this is for you. A case study." Mulder is tired of having to speak across the room, so he gets up and takes his coffee with him, sitting on Krycek's side of the bed and perching there while he watches the man eat. "It's not a case study, because I can't be objective. I never profiled you—did you know that? I could never distance myself enough. And of course there was the whole gamut of usual reactions to your presence whenever our paths crossed. You were right: I can't keep my hands off you. But you can admit it; you liked it. After all, you couldn't keep away. It was starting to get obvious, the contrivance of your showing up all the time." Krycek swallows his bite of steak, saying, "So?" Mulder gives him an affable smile. "So you can drop the shy little virgin act. We both know you've had the hots for me for years, and that you have more experience with gay sex than I do, so you're actually far more adjusted to this than I am." Krycek regards him coolly. "You proposed to me." The way he says it, it sounds almost like an accusation. "In the airport." He says 'airport' in an affronted tone. Like it's the most unnatural place for anyone to propose to someone in. "Well, I'm falling in love with you. Wasn't that a natural thing to say when someone realizes they want to live with someone who's in love with them?" Krycek's looking like he doesn't know if Mulder is pulling his leg or not. With a curious frown, he asks, "You are?" Mulder merely sits, looking back at him and waiting for the pieces to fall together for him. "So, so you -" Krycek hesitates. "This hypothetical someone who's-" "No," corrects Mulder. "Not hypothetical. Me," he asserts. "Falling in love. With you," he adds. "So you really are serious about this? About wanting to, to..." Krycek meets his eye again. "Marry me." He looks like having to speak the words is almost offensive. "Settle down with me in some kind of, of, FANTASY or something, where black oil aliens and faceless rebels aren't duking it out, while humanity's survival hangs in the balance. As corrupt old men scramble for power... as a substitute for their egos because they can't get it up anymore. None of that matters now. Is that what you're saying?" Mulder lets his eyebrows rise dangerously high at this. "You think I'm being unrealistic? You want to be with me. And you want it to be for good, don't you? You agreed on the plane: you're mine. And I'm yours. It seems to me we've covered this ground before." Krycek appears to be backtracking. "I know. I'm not backing out, I'm not. I just-" he passes a hand over his hair, raggedly. "I don't know how you can..." He stops, wearing his anxiety and misgivings openly now. "Want you?" Mulder supplies, helpfully. He was glad to see Krycek was finally dropping his guard and letting him in. "I want you to want me; it makes me want you. Which is kind of elementary, if you think about it. What else do you expect, if you tell me you're in love with me?" Krycek exhales. "Look, just... give me a break here, Mulder." He casts an admonishing glare at him. "This takes some getting used to. Last night, I thought you wanted me to stay dead. I thought there was a chance you'd shoot me when I arrived at your door. I even knew you didn't have your gun, which was why I brought mine. I was that close to just giving up. I didn't have anything left to lose. I still don't," he emphasizes. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing here—alive, I mean. They brought me back out of some weird sense of honor and debt for having saved your ass from an alien virus. By the time I got back on my feet, the game had already progressed past a point where I could make any difference. To everyone else, I'm a ghost. I'm gone. And I never thought, I never IMAGINED, that you would—that you'd—want—" He runs out of steam and looks down at the carpet. Gently, Mulder says, "I know. Believe me, I know. I do. When I came back, I didn't know where I fit in. Scully had been assigned a new partner and I was in the way suddenly. I wasn't even allowed into the basement anymore. I wasn't wanted. It was absurd, how eager they were to get along without me. I had always been an embarrassment. And you know something? I was already tired of it. It was a thankless task. I'd already settled my affairs before I disappeared. I had an inoperable brain tumor. Did you know that?" Krycek's shuttered glance tells him that he did. Mulder continues, "I suddenly had a whole new lease on life. Literally. And I didn't fit in anywhere. I had nowhere to go. Then I discover Scully's pregnant and I'm the father and there's the possibility of having a family. Something I've never had, certainly not anything beyond what one could describe as dysfunctional. But everything up until now has been completely unreal, and nothing I could take to the bank. Even the baby... I don't know HOW to be normal, to have a normal life. Alex, being here with you is more realistic than anything I can try to hold on to, back there. I can't just insert myself back into my old life. And neither can you. We have to move on. That gives us the ability to adjust, to adapt. To grab hold of this, of what we have here. Doesn't it?" Krycek is looking back at him, his gaze clear at last. "Yeah. You're right." "I am. I know I am. We can still carry on the good fight. But let's take some moments for ourselves now. We've earned it. I'm giving this the chance it deserves, because I'm worth it. And so are you. It's just like you said: a singular opportunity. And whatever the future holds, all we can do is accept the outcomes of whatever choices we make now. Well, you want this and so do I. Let's choose each other." Krycek gives him a half-smile. "Very convincing. You've talked me into it." Relief washes over him and Mulder tries not to show it. "Good. So you'll get in the hot tub with me?" "When have I ever avoided getting into hot water with you?" Krycek asks, meaningfully. He flashes Mulder a grin before looking down, that happy-to-be-near-you expression creeping over him again. "Hell, it's what I live for." Mulder feels a ripple of satisfaction once more. Smiling, he drains his cup. "I've noticed." "So when's the wedding?" Mulder stops, the wind going out of his sails. "Wedding?" Krycek chuckles low in his throat. "Gotcha." Mulder narrows his eyes and licks his lips. "We're already married." Krycek sniffs, regarding him with a new look, one Mulder hasn't seen on him before. Appraising, even appreciative. Openly so. Mulder likes it. "I know," Krycek replies, getting up to put away his plate. Mulder lets out a breath. "I always figured you swung that way." Krycek lifts his brows at him, moving back to pick up his cup. "Both ways. I must say, I didn't think you would, though." Mulder thoughtfully says, "I've always considered myself pansexual." "Why?" "Well, how else can I explain the beast woman, the vampire, the aliens and my first wife?" Krycek is laughing now. He sits back down. "You're eclectic." "And you're sexy." Mulder takes in Krycek's eyes, the way they glitter at his compliment. Ohhh, that is a good look on him. He makes a promise to himself to do it more often. Standing up, he begins to strip off his shirt. "Come on. I want to try out the tub." "You go ahead. I'll join you in a bit. I'm still eating." "You just want to watch me undress again," Mulder accuses dryly, busy with the front of his pants as he undoes them. Letting them drop to the floor, he steps out of them and bends down to pick them up. "You don't need an excuse, you know. All you have to do is ask." "You really are a slut, after all," Alex lets drop, watching as Mulder pulls off his shorts, revealing that ample cock which is, Jesus, really thick and long even when he's soft. He reluctantly pulls his eyes away and suddenly it hits him: he doesn't have to. He can feast his eyes as much as he likes! The realization is euphoric. It's been such a habit all these years, to try to balance his desire to look at Mulder openly with the need for discretion. Mulder is filling up the tub, which promptly starts filling the room with a steamy atmosphere that the air conditioning luckily counteracts. The joy of resting his tired, hungry eyes on Mulder's body, that supple runner's build and the bright glow of naked skin, is enough to soothe the ache that's always rattled about inside his breast. And that fine, fine ass. The memory of his cock sliding between Mulder's legs as Mulder lowered onto him the previous night suddenly assails his mind and he holds his breath, pressing his lips together as he tries to remain seated and not go to him. A happy contentment settles within him, unfamiliar but welcome. It must show on his face because Mulder remarks as he leans down, turning on the jets in the tub, then the bubbles, "Since you like it that much, I could just stay undressed for the duration of our stay. I can wear the robe when we're not in bed. But there's one condition." Alex waits. "What's that?" Mulder stands up, with a smile at him. "You have to do the same." So much for his fear that Mulder wouldn't want to be with him openly in the nude. "No problem." Mulder is thoughtfully regarding the tub. "Maybe we should shower first." "Why bother?" Alex says, dismissively. "We're not that dirty. We both showered this morning." Mulder seems to agree with his logic and steps into the tub. The folly of remaining on the sofa while a naked Mulder is climbing into a Jacuzzi in front of him is enough to jolt him from his seat. Grabbing up two glasses and the bottle of red wine, he goes to the edge of the tub and places them on the side. He removes his clothing quickly by the bed, efficiently, down to his socks. Turning back, he sees Mulder is already settling back into the turbulent, steaming water, a look of relaxed ecstasy on his face. To see such peace on the Fox is a revelation, worthy of a wet dream unto itself. He steps into the tub, sitting down eagerly. Ohhhhhh God. Warm, warm water. And naked Mulder. This is heaven. Mulder's eyes open as his feet brush against Mulder's. Mulder says, "Wining and dining me, Alex. And bubbles. How can you afford all this?" I wondered when he'd get around to asking, Alex thinks privately. With a wry grin, he explains, "There are interesting credit cards available to ex-Consortium members and Majestic personnel, providing unlimited access to offshore accounts known only to the highest levels of government and hidden from the public as well as the IRS. Oddly, the accounting is freely available to all but no one ever thinks to check. There's even a website you can visit, to ask for it. Under federal law, every citizen has the right to ask for the annual statement but they never do, because no one imagines such things go on. This Jacuzzi and Executive Suite here at the Hilton, not to mention the steak, is courtesy of last year's opium crop confiscated by the CIA in Afghanistan. Now that the US is in Afghanistan and got their troops all over it, the opium slush fund will probably triple by next year." Mulder's lips are pursed and he looks wary. "Won't anyone catch on that you're dipping into it?" Alex picks up the wine bottle and opens it, struggling momentarily with the silver strip. The cork finally pulls free though. "How? All the card accounts are free of any statements, none are audited, and all withdrawals are known by a select few and written off as expenses. Completely untraceable, as the cards were only handed out by those who could never hope to spend even a fraction of the total budget, no matter how wildly spendthrift they might be. It isn't even connected with the black ops budget, which is even fatter. It's the old bastards' pocket money for the most part. You wouldn't believe the crap they spend it on." He meets Mulder's gaze across the steam and bubbles, pouring a glass for him. "I figure it's only fair, seeing as you're hiding from them, that they should pay for it." It must appeal to Mulder's sense of justice and irony because he doesn't quibble, just accepts the glass of wine from Alex. He pours one for himself and settles back, enjoying the additional benefit of having his knees adjacent to Mulder's beneath the water, their legs nearly touching on either side. But he has to ask. "Does it bother you?" Sipping, Mulder replies, "No. Just so long as we don't get caught. But if you say it's untraceable, I believe you." Alex snorts. "I had the chance to make sure, while I was still in with the Syndicate. Don't worry. And I have backups, of course." "Of course," Mulder agrees. "So I'm your kept man, then." Alex stares back at him. "Why? How do you figure that?" Mulder giggles at him. "You get this cute little wrinkle between your eyebrows when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. It really suits you. But you shouldn't worry. I just mean that I'm in your hands here. Hey, I'm not complaining. This is what retirement should be all about." "God knows we've both earned it," Alex grumbles, unable to help himself. "Amen," Mulder says, raises his glass and taking another sip. "Amen," Alex repeats, gulping from his. Lifting his glass up again, Mulder says, "To us," and sips again. "To us," Alex grins and lifts, this time meeting Mulder's glass with a clink. And drinks. "To the opium slush fund," Mulder adds, grinning, taking a larger draught. "To the red, white and blue," Alex says, with another gulp. Mulder holds up his glass, regarding the lights through it. "To freedom and safety, as paradoxical as that may be according to the founding fathers." And he sips, getting down to the bottom of the glass now. "To the Hampton-Hilton," Alex sighs, tossing back the last of his glass. He reaches out for the bottle. "Another?" "Yeah." Mulder holds out his glass. Alex is off-balance and he accidentally pours over the top, the wine gushing from the bottle. The red wine goes splashing over Mulder's hand, dripping into the bubbling water and quickly dissipating. "Well, I guess we christened the tub, too," he says, pouring his own glass more carefully. Mulder is licking his hand, running his tongue over his fingers. Alex stops, watching him, wondering how such an innocuous act can be so erotic. He's already half-hard just from being naked in the tub with him. This...licking of Mulder's is helping him to go all the way. He swallows and puts away the bottle. "'O'My Lubricant'?" Mulder grins at him, swallowing large gulps of the wine to stop it from sloshing over the rim. "Best I could get on such short notice this morning," Alex informs him. "We could always call room service and see what they can come up with." Mulder's eyes light up at the prospect. But he says instead, "How tired are you?" Alex smirks. "Why?" "Don't be coy," Mulder says, sipping his wine, a nice glow in his face from the first glass. "I'll be disappointed if you're too tired to scream, is all." "We're on mountain time now, so I guess we've gained a few hours," Alex muses. "I arranged to have the Continental breakfast sent up in the morning. You can swim while I sleep. So yeah, I can scream for you, Fox." It's the first time he's really allowed himself to say the beloved name, and he enjoys using it so casually yet blatantly. He also enjoys the way Mulder appears to struggle with trying not to react. He almost laughs at the look on his face. Mulder carefully ignores it and merely replies, "I'll pass on the pool, myself. I'm willing to bet we'll both sleep like logs. We can get all the physical exertion out of the way first." At yet another oblique reminder of what Mulder has been planning to do to him since before they set out on this trip, Alex finds his ass clenching with anticipation. His semi-erection has reached full salute now. The eagerness must transmit in his expression because Mulder smiles leeringly and allows his knee to come into contact with Alex's lower thigh beneath the water. Alex closes his knees together in answer, trapping Mulder's leg between his. The tactile play and the motion of the soothing bubbles all over him is enough to wake him while at the same time helping him to relax and enjoy being here with Mulder. It doesn't feel like a dream anymore. "You're starting to arrive, aren't you?" Mulder says, in his trademark intuitive fashion. "Yeah." Alex takes another sip of the red. He glances at the bottle... "Beaujolais?" He says, in disbelief. "This is a Beaujolais?" "Why?" "It's too good to be a Beaujolais," he says, frowning. "I didn't order it, so it might be free. I've noticed there's a lot of little freebies that come with booking the Executive Suite for a week," Mulder muses. "Which reminds me," he adds, with a wriggle of his leg from between Alex's knees, trying to free himself to make a point. "You led me to believe this would be a honeymoon suite. You bad boy." "I didn't lead you on, Fox. You supplied all the pink, nightmarish details yourself, remember?" "Don't call me that," Mulder finally says. "Why not?" Mulder looks uncomfortable. "I don't like it." "Why not?" Alex presses. "Wait a minute. I can sit in a hot tub with you, naked and getting you drunk, and about to let you take me up the ass... but I can't call you by your first name?" He smirks again, taking a sip. "Okay, you have a point." "My beautiful Fox," Alex says, allowing himself an admiring sigh. Mulder regards him thoughtfully. Alex can tell when he has a good opportunity in front of him. No way is he going to let this one go by. "You are, you know. Beautiful." He enjoys watching the way Mulder's eyes go liquid at this, all soft and brown. "So are you," Mulder replies genuinely, taking a sip and then licking at the drip on the outside of his glass. Alex's eyes helplessly track the movement of Mulder's tongue. A smile wreathes Mulder's face. "How much longer do you think we should wait? The suspense is terrible." "'I hope it lasts'," Alex quips. And Mulder, fortunately, has even seen that movie. "I guess you're my golden ticket. But you know, I have to question the subconscious expressions of a British author who names his main character after his own country's cultural euphemism for a penis." "They all do," Alex explains, the rationale of his statement perfectly clear in his Beaujolais-and-Naked-with-Mulder-in-Jacuzzi affected state of mind. "They all find a way to work their issues into their material. Look at Lewis Carroll." "And Barrie." Mulder sips again. His glass is emptying slowly but surely. "I guess Oscar Wilde was the most honest of them all." Alex puts his glass down, not wanting to dull his senses at all for the upcoming piece de resistance. "Maybe that's why they're classics." "Yeah. The secret life. Maybe they knew more than I gave them credit for," Mulder muses, splashing water on his face, wetting his hair. "Actually, most of the great ones were secretly bi rather than openly gay." Mulder snorts. "One of the greatest hoaxes ever perpetrated on the unsuspecting literary world. Imagine it: sexuality is the ingredient that fuels the imagination, however carefully secreted behind fairytales and symbolism. I mean, look at the Wizard of Oz." "Definitely. A lesbian classic," Alex nods, sagely. "Totally," Mulder asserts. "So, I take it then that this doesn't... you know, bug you?" "No, it doesn't bug me," Mulder replies, picking up his cue perfectly. "If it did, I wouldn't be sitting here in a hot tub with you, about to do the wild thing, would I?" "God, no! Don't ruin that classic for me." Alex shudders. "'Where the Wild Things Are.'" Mulder bursts out laughing. "Let me guess. Bes-" "Don't! Please," Alex interjects, quickly. "My mother would turn in her grave." Mulder is snickering. "Yeah, so would mine." "Not to mention poor Sendak." "You know, I could be Max. Take the M from Mulder and then change the Fox bit... Yes. You can call me Max." "I'm not going to call you Max." "Why not?" Mulder sounds petulant and hurt. "It's not individual enough. Your own name suits you better," Alex says, a note of Final Decision in his voice. "And besides, that same British author you referred to also wrote The Fantastic Mr Fox, so I'm not backing down on this one." Mulder backs down instead. With a sigh, he sips more wine. "So tell me your most frequent, recurring sex fantasy." Alex raises his brows. "Why?" "Does it involve me?" Mulder gives him a searching, amused look over his glass. "Sometimes," Alex admits. With a frown, he absently pulls his hands from the water and examines his fingers. They're starting to wrinkle. "But I also like redheads, blonds and Asian women." Mulder glowers at him. He looks like he's threatening to go into a full-blown sulk. Alex laughs. "You take the cake, Fox. You really do. Come on, I already told you I love you, that I'm IN love with you, and that I have been since we met! Before, even. How much more can your ego take?" "After years of neglect and abuse, it can easily handle more," Mulder mutters, putting his glass down. "Seriously?" Alex settles back, putting his arms out to lay along the sides of the tub on either side of him, letting his foot slide back and forth along Mulder's calf, down to his ankle, back up again, over and over..."I'd have to say the most recent, recurring fantasy I have is a full-blown epic in fast-forward. It starts off with being in bed with someone I've seen recently, turns quickly into a jack-off session while imagining you giving me head and ends up with me bending you over your basement office desk, giving it to you where you've been working late again. Sometimes it morphs into something from that night I came to see you. Instead of leaving and giving you back your gun, I tell you to take off your pants and I end up fucking you on your couch." Mulder licks his lips, slowly. With a shrug, Alex says, "You asked. Now it's your turn." Mulder grins. "Come on, I already told you. The idea of hauling you off to an interrogation room to strip-search you is something that has stayed with me ever since Hong-Kong. Before that, it was rather mild. The occasional oral sex fantasy. But then, things got heavy. I needed more." "Mulder," Alex started, wondering how the hell the man's psyche had managed to hide from it for so long. "You're conflicted. You know that? You've been in denial." "Of course. Who isn't? Everyone's got some secret, dirty wish hidden in the depths of their being; some private, nasty little beast just waiting to get out. We're not all as lucky as I am, with their very own taboo that appears out of nowhere in the middle of the night suggesting sex, romance and fine hotels after making people believe he's been dead for months." "Look who's talking," Alex accuses. "Ah, but that's different. You saved ME. I didn't disappear; you knew exactly where I was. What you did last night came completely out of left field!" "Same old, same old," Alex says. "It's not like you were ever beating a path to my door, unless it was to shoot me. Of course, you beat me up but you never seemed to get around to shooting me. Let me guess: what you meant by 'shoot' was really 'fuck', right?" Mulder considers this. "Okay. I'll give that one to you. But still, the whole sublimation thing was driving that one, remember? So it doesn't really count as something coming out of left field. The point I'm trying to make is that you started this; you're the one who decided to take the red pill instead of the blue one. Then you handed me the red one without the blue." "The kiss does count. That night I came to see you." Alex is nearly sulking, now. "You didn't shoot me then. I couldn't help but notice that. THAT came out of left field. You actually believed me. It was totally unexpected. Come on! I kiss you and suddenly you 'believe' again? What was all that about? So that one counts." "So it does," Mulder smiles at him. "So don't you dare go getting all serious on me, or I'll have to kiss you again and then where will you be? You won't be able to continue having a mature conversation." Alex titters at him. "If this is a mature conversation, I'll finish off the bottle and finish you off afterwards." "You're right. Maybe we should clear something up here." In what is becoming for Alex almost an expected leap to some strange tangent, Mulder abruptly says to him, "I remember what you said to me that day. In the car park, before Skinner arrived." Alex freezes, a sharp pang marring his sense of comfort and happiness. He tries not to let it show. Surely Mulder isn't going to bring up - "I remember your words to me. You said I thought you were bad, that you were a killer." Swiftly, Alex says, "I said other things, too." He feels a sense of resentment welling up at the fact that Mulder would bring this up now, at this time. He feels intensely vulnerable and resents Mulder for that also. But he knows, all too damn well, that it's just a cover for the pain. The pain that grows with a dull, heavy ache as Mulder continues to speak. Mulder pauses. "Yeah, I know. Let me finish, here. What I said to you last night... I was being honest with you. I do forgive you for the parts you've played in my life, for hurting me. I know now that if I judge you as 'bad', as a 'killer', then I judge myself the same. It isn't exactly the same, but I have betrayed people after leading them to believe I was their friend, that I shared their cause. I have killed, I've taken lives while working for the FBI and no amount of justification of what they were, who they were or how it happened will account for it. I know that. We all have our sins to bear, and to forgive ourselves for. I even used a career in the federal government to pursue a personal cause of my own and endangered my loyal partner and friend, Dana Scully, not once but repeatedly in the pursuit of information of my sister's disappearance and the truth of our government's deception about UFOs." Alex is coming undone inside. Panic rises and he suddenly feels trapped in the tub, naked with Mulder in front of him. He feels disoriented. He realizes he's blinking repeatedly, wondering why Mulder has to do this in the middle of this... rather intimate and personal scene. But maybe that was why. He hates himself for allowing his feelings to become so transparent to Mulder, for letting himself reach the sickening point of actually needing reassurance from Mulder. Wanting Mulder to forgive him. Damn it, Mulder isn't perfect! Where the fuck does he get off, acting as though he's lowering himself to Alex's level? But he bites his lip, letting Mulder continue. After all, it is quite a concession from Mulder to admit that he's killed, as well. "We've all had our prices to pay. We've all done things we regret." Mulder leans forward and reaches out both hands in the water, placing them on Alex's knees. "I want you to know that I consider it in the past. We truly are reborn, anew, in every minute. And Alex, I give you my word. I'm not going to bring it up at awkward moments in the future with intent to hurt you or psychologically blackmail you." "I wouldn't—" "I know, I know. You won't accuse me of being that petty or spiteful, or even being capable of that. Because you don't want us to fall back to the usual cycle of taunts and fighting. But we both know I have done it before, and that I could again. I want you to know that I won't. I won't hit you, and I won't belittle you. I won't call you names. I will love you. You have my word," Mulder says again. It's too much. It takes a lot to break Alex. His psyche has endured much, he has a lot of stamina and even his physical pain threshold is very high. But this strikes right at the heart of his fears. And deepest regrets. He finds hot tears leaking and spilling waywardly down his cheeks, lost in the bubbling water. "M-Mulder," he begins. "I -" Abruptly, Mulder is leaning forward, kissing his forehead, placing a hand on the side of his head. "It's alright. It is. It's okay, Alex. We can both let go of the pain and the past." He tries to stop the flow of tears, wiping uselessly at his eyes, feeling awkward as they burn his already-tired lids. But he can't stop them. It's like a river has broken its banks and now they won't stop falling. "You don't know, you can't know, what this means, or how it feels, or, what—what..." he trails off; losing any ability to find the words to express what Mulder has just done to him. "Shhh, you don't have to say. It's okay, Alex," Mulder murmurs, kissing his cheek. Sniffling and feeling like an idiot, Alex says, "Thank you. For this. For choosing this." It feels paltry and doesn't at all convey how deeply he means it, but Mulder seems to get it. With a gentle smile, Mulder continues to lean against him, occasionally kissing Alex on the side of the face. Finally, as Alex gets control of himself once more, Mulder leans back. "Hey, you okay?" Mulder sounds worried, his eyes searching Alex's. Alex nods. "Yeah. You just—you kind of took me by surprise, there." He looks down, and splashes water on his face, on his hair, wetting himself thoroughly, taking deep breaths. Mulder bites his lip. "I'm sorry. It's just... I needed to say it. I know you've been tense, about us, about this. About me. About whether or not I really accept you. Well, I do. I accept you as you are. Hell," he laughs suddenly, "neither of us is the same man we were before. Both of us have been to hell and back, and lived to tell the tale." Alex nods, more vigorously this time. He lets out a shuddery breath. "I know." Mulder is searching his face more worriedly now. "Are you okay?" "Yeah, yeah, Mulder; I'm fine. I just didn't think—I really wasn't expecting that. THAT came out of left field," he finishes triumphantly, and not a little petulantly. Mulder silently laughs. "Yeah. It did. Sorry about that. But I think we really needed to cover that before we go any further into this... relationship of ours." Alex looks up, sniffing, and wipes at his face. "Good. I'm glad. Thanks." "I don't want you worrying constantly, that I'm not as committed to this as you are. I am. If you start feeling like I'm not taking this seriously, tell me. We can talk about it. You can trust me." Mulder rises up out of the water, getting all solicitous now. "We're pruning. Come on, let's get out." Grabbing at the white fluffy towels nearby, he and Mulder manage to not soak the carpet completely. Mulder reaches down into the tub to drain it, turning off the jets and bubbles. Alex quickly dries off, shrugging on one of the large bathrobes. He's toweling his hair dry with a brisk rub when he realizes Mulder will need a bathrobe also. He hands the other one to Mulder as he comes up behind him. Alex turns back to face the bed. Its blue and gold cover reminds him of the sky banded with sunlight. The contrast of night and day. Twilight. Kind of like him and Mulder. And he can't stop thinking about what Mulder said. He closes his eyes and breathes it in. Forgiveness, acceptance and healing. Love, even. My God, it can't be possible to be this lucky, he thinks. How'm I going to handle it? Dreams come true for other people. It can't possibly be this good, not for me. Mulder puts on his robe and suddenly steps up close to Alex from behind, putting his arms around him and resting his chin on Alex's right shoulder, beside his face. He kisses him below the ear, on his neck, and murmurs, "Don't worry about the future. Let it take care of itself, and let me take care of you." With a shaky breath, Alex nods. "Hey," Mulder whispers. "It's dark out. What do you say we go to bed?" Alex holds onto Mulder's arms where they rest tight up against him. Mulder's hugging him, pressing up close against his back. He lets his head go backwards a little, lifting his chin, and just closes his eyes. Wanting to stay there like that. Time's slowing down. All too soon, Mulder releases him and walks over to the coffee maker, switching it off. Then he saunters over to the window and closes the curtains. Coming back across the room, Mulder pauses by the various lamps and turns them off one by one. Alex can't help a smile at the image. "You're 'Wee Willie Winkie', I take it." "Better believe it. Upstairs and down, in his Hampton hotel bathrobe that he has no intention of ever returning. But I'm hardly 'wee'. I guess I'll have to show it to you to prove that though." "Oh, I vividly recall," Alex says, sitting down on the bedside. "I wouldn't mind meeting that particular gift horse again." Mulder is snickering at him as he turns off the last lamp. Going to the light switch, he plunges them into darkness. There's a very faint light creeping in from the tops of the curtains from the floodlights in the street below. Mulder's white bathrobe looks almost disembodied as it comes towards him in the dark. The sudden absence of light serves to galvanize his cock into fully-fledged hardness, with the knowledge of what Mulder has been promising to do all day long. "Jesus," he breathes. Mulder slips out of the bathrobe, dropping it by the bed. "Allow me," he says, stepping up to slip his hands beneath Alex's robe and sliding it back over his shoulders, baring them. It feels strangely new and erotic to have his body exposed in the removal of the robe, even though he's only just put it on. Mulder stops and says, doubtfully, "I think I might need a little light for this. I want to see what I'm doing. Make sure I'm doing it right. What do you think?" "I'm all for a little light," Alex replies, truthfully. Mulder goes all the way back around the other side of the bed and switches on the lamp there. "Yeah, better," he states, looking at Alex's nakedness across the bed. With a cheeky lift to his brows and a lick of his lips, Mulder crawls onto the bed. Pulling back the covers, he slides beneath them. Alex joins him, remembering the bottle of lube and rolling it along until it hits the side of the nearest pillow. He moves another pillow out and lays it beside its mate, watching as Mulder arranges the ones on his side. With a breath, he dives into the bed. In between the cool sheets, covered with Mulder in bed beside him, Alex wonders if this isn't the happiest moment of his life. It's certainly the most unexpected. And after the previous night, that's certainly a concept to marvel at. Mulder slithers towards him. "C'mere." The momentousness of feeling Mulder's warm hands pulling him close, arranging the covers around them and returning to urge him into Mulder's embrace, it's almost overwhelming. He's embarrassed to feel the return of that watery loss of control that weakens his strength and squeezes in his chest. With an effort, he manages to stave it off. Mulder holds him, letting him wrap his arm around Mulder's waist and laying his hand on Mulder's warm back, keeping him close. It's so much more than he ever believed could be possible. Mulder's face is so close beside his on their shared pillow that Alex can feel the puffs of his breath against his skin. He feels shattered inside, pulled in too many directions, but at this moment he can feel the rest of the world finally recede to almost astronomical proportions, leaving them in a close, dark place where only the two of them exist, or have ever existed... or ever will. Mulder's body is pressed up against his. Where Mulder's chest meets his, Alex can feel him breathing in and out. Where Mulder's knee is, Alex's leg is slung over it. He can even feel the heavy shaft of Mulder's cock where it juts from his body, not quite touching his. He leans in closer, letting his own cock brush against Mulder's, and is delighted at Mulder's intake of breath. His own breath echoes Mulder's, because the soft, silky pleasure of it is so much more intense than he expected. Mulder's voice vibrates in his ears, reaching down his body to sing inside him, getting under his skin and making him catch his breath. "I've been wanting to be here like this with you all day. For hours. I thought it would never end." Alex can't speak. He's too lost in Mulder's eyes, and the nearness of his mouth. Those beautiful, full lips. He's always loved Mulder's mouth. All the years he's spent, wanting this man, and now to be here like this, with him. At last. It's all he's ever wanted. He doesn't care about anything else. He wonders if he ever really did. "I've wanted you," he manages in a rough voice that's nearly a hoarse whisper, "for as long as I can remember. For years. And I thought it would never end, either." With the barest frown, Mulder leans towards him, letting their lips meet, almost a gentle collision, before seizing his mouth with more urgency. After a moment, Mulder pulls back, saying, "I don't want this to be a 'slam, bam, thank you ma'am' kind of a deal. I want to take my time with you here. Are you up for that?" Alex grins. "You mean, you're going to keep me on the edge, begging for it?" "No, I just want to do this right. It's our wedding night, after all," Mulder adds, seriously. Alex swallows. "Alright." He doesn't trust himself to say anything else. Mulder's starting to unravel him here. He can feel the desire building, a slowly banking fire that really is astounding, considering that they blew each other on the plane not hours before. Well, quite a few hours, he realizes... and wonders if he's ever been this sexually stimulated before. The head of his cock is actually vibrating with the intensity of the energy starting to dance all over his body. His nerves are wrecked. He realizes with slight tension that he's actually trembling. He's not cold. He's just been waiting too damn long. "Mulder," he says, aware of how low his voice sounds. "Are you gonna fuck me or what?" "You getting nervous here, Alex?" Mulder smiles at him, kissing him again and not really giving him a chance to answer. "No," he says honestly when Mulder releases him. "I just want you to get on with it. We've been waiting all fucking day." Mulder doesn't answer. Instead, he catches his eye, searching Alex's face. Mulder's pupils are dilated, his eyes so big and dark that Alex almost gasps. Mulder kisses him again, then moves down to his neck, sucking hard. Alex can't stop himself from writhing against him, which inadvertently brings their cocks into harder contact. Pressing into Mulder's body, he shivers under the teeth that bite at his flesh, followed by the soothing stroke of Mulder's tongue. Mulder's hands are pushing him back as he lifts up to sit over Alex. His eyes gleam as he orders, "Give me the bottle." Alex fumbles above his head by the pillow and finally locates the lube, handing it to Mulder who sits back with his legs folded under him. "Now turn over," Mulder says. Alex turns, shifting onto his side and laying on his belly, his face turned to the side. He spreads his legs apart, waiting. Mulder kneels between his open legs and begins to run a hand smoothly down his back, and then up again, letting his fingers trail over Alex's spine, his waist, down to his hips and back up. His hand starts to move down again then, to Alex's ass, cupping him and rubbing—first gently, then with a kneading motion. Alex lets out a groan. It's been so long since anyone touched him like this. And to know that it's just a tiny prelude to what Mulder intends to do... It's enough to make his cock leak, trapped between his body and the mattress. He hears Mulder snap the top open and then as Mulder begins to lube his cock, the slightly wet sound as Mulder's hand slathers it on. Then he feels Mulder's fingers between the cheeks of his ass, the slick fingers parting them and Mulder's long middle finger gently swirling at his puckered opening. He holds his breath, trying to relax the ring of muscle. He feels light-headed as Mulder's fingertip slides into him with a maddening, slow rhythm, in and out, in and out... "You're so beautiful like this," Mulder whispers from above him. Alex can't speak. What can he say? His cheeks are flaming against the cool sheet beneath. Mulder slides his finger in deeper, reaching past the point he'd gone before when he'd fingered him aboard the plane. "God, Alex," Mulder breathes reverently, behind him. Mulder slides another finger in now, slowly working him open. Alex hisses at the intrusion. It burns a little but it's familiar enough that he doesn't tighten. Mulder works his ass, stretching him more fully and he can't help the shiver that runs over him as he waits for Mulder to consider him prepped enough to take it. Then Mulder is withdrawing, and he feels the blunt head of Mulder's big cock... Very big, he realizes. He tightens against it in spite of himself. Mulder's cock is nudging against him. "Go easy," Alex says, breathlessly. "Don't worry, I will." Mulder is as good as his word, just gently letting it nudge against him with a slow, undulating motion of his hips, rocking against Alex. Inevitably, Mulder begins to penetrate him, inch by inch sinking into his hole. Alex clenches his teeth against the burn. The pain is surprising. He doesn't make a sound. "Fuck." Panting above him, Mulder asks, "Are you alright?" "Yeah," he grits out. No way in hell is he backing out now. Sure enough, the burn turns to a hot brand inside him. Mulder's thickness is wonderful, and abruptly, Alex wants to feel it moving back and forth. He wants it harder. "F-fuck me," he says, sucking in a breath as Mulder moves farther into him, impaling him as he lays full-length on him now. Finally covering him, Mulder's resting his face against his neck, and whispers in his ear, "I've always wanted to do this to you. I should have done this to you years ago." "So do it now," Alex says, the solution blindingly obvious to him. Mulder chuckles against him, the movement sending ripples of sensation into Alex's body where Mulder's cock is embedded in him. Then Mulder's mouth is back, his teeth nipping at Alex's neck, tongue licking at the sensitive skin and Alex is writhing under him. "Fuck, please, just- Mulder, please," he begs, needing to feel himself fucked, needing Mulder to do it hard, slow and deep. Accordingly, Mulder begins to thrust against him, sliding in further and coaxing a moan from Alex before he can stop it. Mulder does it again and Alex realizes he's never been this vocal before. It's like the noises are wrenched from him. Every inch of his body is singing, every nerve-ending is on fire. He wants to come, but he also wants to drag it out as long as he can stand. He realizes it isn't even up to him. He's completely in Mulder's hands here. The thought that his pleasure is at Mulder's command is enough to make him buck back against Mulder's next thrust, with a cry. At first, it's cozy but with Alex moving sluttishly and helplessly back to meet his cock, Mulder wants to drive it home deeply and just rape the tight little ass he's plundering. There is something so perfect, so RIGHT, in fucking Alex Krycek. He wonders why he never let himself think about it before. The answer comes on the heels of that thought: if I had, I never would have been able to let him go. As he fucks him, Mulder begins to feel less and less like this is a consummation. No, it feels like a claiming. He's claiming what's his. Breathing hard, he growls, "You're mine, Alex," punctuating it with another thrust. Alex doesn't answer, merely whining and moaning under him. It's enough; the sounds Alex makes are more than satisfying, goading him to drive into him harder, faster. He feels like he's finally come home, he's struck gold, and he's found at last the reward for sacrificing this pleasure for so long, for having denied himself the satisfaction of seizing it for himself. Alex's strong, hot body beneath him is so different from anything he's ever experienced before. He realizes at this moment that it's good. It's damn good. It's so fucking fantastic having Alex, it's frightening. Sweating, he mouths Alex's neck again; he can't stop doing it, he has to suck and lick at any part of Alex's body that he can. Gripping the man's arms tightly, he allows himself to give in to the desire to let go, really let loose. He isn't worried now about hurting him; a dark, shadowed little corner of him even wants to. He realizes he isn't going to last, though. The sweetly clenching, hot ass around his dick is beyond pleasurable; it's in the realm of something else entirely. Necessary; essential, even. "Don't you ever fucking leave me again," he orders, in a low voice, enjoying the way it makes Alex shudder under him. He doesn't care if what he says doesn't make any sense. In a way, it should make sense to Krycek, seeing as he's danced perpetual circles around him and then flitted away again so many times in the past. "Never," Alex gasps in response, caught beneath him, pinned like a trapped animal. With a volley of penetrating thrusts, he fucks Alex with abandon, close to sobs. He wants to bury himself inside him, never stop; just fuck him forever until there is nothing left of either of them. Mulder is fucking him too hard. Alex loves it. It's as deep as he's needed, as hard as he has been wanting all day. No more anticipating what it will be like. He can't shut up, finding his groans pulled physically out of him with every push of Mulder's thick, hard cock into his body. A bright burst of sensation sizzles up his body, leaving Alex feeling like he's being cored out by a living bolt of lightning. He never expected Mulder to get into it like this. Even with the violence of Mulder's previous beatings when he'd launch himself at Alex, this is unexpectedly... hot and hard and thorough. He can't take much more; the pain and pleasure have merged into one sensation, wrenching the moans and cries from him with every thrust. Mulder's weight on him, holding him down while he fucks him raw, is thrilling and yet demeaning. He gives into that discovery, giving himself up to it and finally finds what he is looking for. Sobbing against the bed, he comes with a series of shaking jerks, noticing for the first time the tears that are running from his eyes to soak the sheets under him along with his semen as he ejaculates helplessly. It's a release, but not like anything he's ever experienced. He feels as though the act is both a punishment and liberation, received at the hands of the one man he's ever looked up to. There is a curious twisting of desire and shame that makes him want to fight against this, to struggle, and also submit to it. His body is certainly giving it up; with what is left of the shreds of his consciousness, he identifies the only resistance as the vestige of fear. He feels used, with every thrust of Mulder's cock into his body, and he wants it but now that he's come he also wants to run. Far away. Oh fuck, he thinks, that's what Mulder was referring to. The knowledge is chastising. Mulder doesn't WANT him to leave. He's so used to running away... thinking it's what Mulder wants... And now to know that Mulder actually wants this, to have him and to fuck him and make him HIS... He goes limp, no longer responding or resisting, and Mulder seems to take this as a final surrender. It excites Mulder, making him thrust more quickly into him now. And Alex allows himself to finally stop fighting. In the delirious aftermath of his orgasm, and with Mulder still fucking him, surrounded by Mulder's heat and passion and the feel of MULDER all over him, claiming him, he knows it's true. He does belong to him. But then, he always has. Mulder feels Alex relaxing under him, feels the submission—however reluctant it might be—and gasps at the thrill that washes through him at it. In the next moment however, he realizes he's always loved it, that tightly anxious defense of Alex's, making him give in, forcing him to show some kind of submission, yielding to Mulder in lieu of giving him the answers he would always demand and that Alex would always deny him. Panting, he slows, and says, "Are you alright?" With a kiss on his ear, he adds, "Am I hurting you?" Alex's eyes are closed but his face tightens and now Mulder sees the tears. Oh shit. I've broken him, he thinks. A sharp twinge of shame and regret ruins the moment for him. He's almost reached his peak and now he just... He feels slightly sick, worried as if he's been caught playing too roughly with a new toy. He wants to cover Alex, hold him safe. His words come back to haunt him; he'd promised to make Alex scream. Suddenly it isn't funny or exciting and he wishes he could take it back. Refusing to pull out and admit defeat, Mulder stills, and just holds him, laying his head against him, feeling Alex's silky hair against his forehead and smelling the scent of Alex's clean sweat. "I'm okay," Alex manages, under him. Yeah, right. Mulder sighs against him. "I want this. I want you. I didn't mean to hurt you." "You didn't," Alex replies, a note of sincerity in his voice that goes a long way to allay Mulder's doubts. "What—Did you think-" "I forgot; it's probably been a while since you've done this," Mulder says. A little smile creeps onto Alex's face. "You could say that. No one's ever made me come without touching me, before." Swift realization dawns on Mulder, covering him with relief. "You liked it." Alex snickers under him. "Couldn't you tell?" Mulder kisses him on the cheek, resoundingly, enjoying the smacking sound so much he decides to do it again. He moves up on Alex a little, to rest his face against the side of Alex's where he's turned to the right. "I thought I was hurting you." Mulder enjoys the way his cock is trapped inside the velvet heat of Alex's ass, still fully lodged within him. Carefully, Alex replies, "You never minded before. I figured it was, you know, payback. For all the times I hurt you." Mulder winces. "No, that wasn't- that's not what I want at all. Jesus." He is ashamed to have to admit that it is though. It was. Not anymore, but in the moment, he... He sighs. He shivers on Alex, loving the feeling of his body atop him. The heady accomplishment of finally having him. Right where he wants him. "Mulder," Alex says under him, hesitantly. "I can take it." Then more quietly, "I want it." Licking his lips, Mulder says, "I don't think I can live with myself if I do. That's not what this is about, not for me. I just want what's mine; what's ours." Coming to a silent decision within himself, Mulder says, "Come on, turn over." Alex stiffens and resists. "Mulder, I'm fine. I don't-" "No, I know. I just want to see your face. Let me do this right. Please." He slowly pulls out, easing his cock out of him. The covers fall off them completely as he sits up, waiting for Alex to maneuver himself onto his back instead. He's glad the bed is so big; they have plenty of space. Mulder watches as Alex frowns and pulls a pillow down, shoving it under his hips. Mulder helps him to position it and then can't help looking down, going open-mouthed at the sight of Alex with his knees up. He's gorgeous like this, all open and needy and tear-stained. Fuck! He raises his eyes again... and sees Alex regarding him with a smile. This is much better. He likes this a lot more. Besides, this way, he muses, I'll get to see his eyes. Smiling back, he picks up the lube and reapplies it. Then, with a hand on his cock to guide it to Alex's waiting hole, he grasps onto Alex's thigh. Leaning into him, he presses home, sliding easily into him, making both of them gasp at the sensation. "Oh, yeah," Alex pants. It's a little more awkward this way in terms of positioning, but Mulder is glad, staring down at Alex and feeling more of a connection between them. He moves experimentally, and notes as Alex whimpers that he's getting hard once more. "I love fucking you," he tells Alex, fervently. And gives him a wicked grin when Alex responds to his words by meeting his thrust into him. Alex can't speak, caught up once more in the rush and the pounding physical heat as Mulder slides in and out of him. Somehow, it's scarier this way, being unable to hide what this is doing to him, how it makes him feel. Having his every response noted by Mulder's sharp eyes. He feels even more open and caught than before. He knows Mulder wants it this way, it's more intimate; but there is a part of him that wants to avoid it and actually prefers it face-down. He closes his eyes, taking every long, slow thrust into him as a benediction, as Mulder's appreciation rather than his punishment. Mulder's mouth on his startles him and he opens his eyes even as Mulder's tongue sweeps across his lips, seeking entrance. He swiftly allows him in, with a moan against him. The taste of Mulder, the heat of him, the sweetness of his mouth, of having this... It's too good, too addictive. He wishes he could fuck him and recalls Mulder telling him that he was sore. Mulder lifts his head, their mouths parting wetly, and whispers down at him, forcing him to lock eyes with him, "You can let go, you're safe with me. I swear. I'm not gonna hurt you. I want this, I want you, Alex," he hisses. Mulder's hand wildly scrabbles to grab his cock, which is erect once more. Mulder begins to pull at him expertly, and Alex almost yells at the stimulation. "Fuck, yes! God... oh FUCK!" With a grunt of approval, Mulder dives down to capture his lips once more. Mulder is feeling that tight, expanding bubble rising up within him with an urgent pressure. He's going to pop, he's going to lose it right here, right now. His balls ache and he wants to drive into Alex harder. "Need to, have to," he grits out, squeezing Alex's cock harder with every word. "Just DO it!" Alex says, desperately, a wild look in his eyes. With a cry, Mulder does. His hips are bucking helplessly against him, as he feels the hot wires of flame and pleasure zipping upwards along his body, and the tension holds him suspended until suddenly, he's coming, emptying himself, losing it all as he pours out the need and longing and desire into Alex's body. Gasping like a fish out of water, Alex comes with a jerk, covering his hand with wetness. Mulder can't help emitting a keening sound, a moan going somehow wrong, as he spurts the last few jolts of himself into the velvety glove of Alex's ass. Long, extended and precious moments as he stares into Alex's eyes, seeing the joy and the surprise there, mirroring his own. The rushing tide begins to recede, leaving him wondering what the fuck hit him. Mulder's temples are pounding and he comes back to himself with a bump. He feels like he's been running. His heart is beating wildly. "Damn," he chokes out. Blinking, he stares down at Alex, who meets his gaze with a smirk. "Much better," Mulder comments aloud. Alex pulls his head down for another kiss. This time, he lets himself linger, slowly loving the way Alex's mouth seems to melt into his. Those lips, usually quirking into a knowing smirk, sometimes petulant, and always desirable, are finally his. He raises up again. "You ARE mine," he informs Alex, who just smiles patiently at him. "Well, you are." "Mulder... for God's sake, when was I ever NOT?" Mulder purses his lips, thinking about this. He looks back down at him. Then he nods. "Good. So, you're okay?" "Sure." Alex's answer is a little too easy though. Mulder searches his eyes for any hint of obfuscation and finds none. With a noise of exasperation, Alex adds, "I'm fine. You made me come twice." "It's not ever going to be enough, is it?" Mulder means it as a rhetorical question but Alex takes it seriously. "No, it isn't. But I'll settle for trying." Mulder smiles down at him. "For as long as we both shall live?" Alex is silent for a moment. "That's not funny, you know." "I'm not trying to be," Mulder says, easily. "We've got the rest of our lives, here. Let's make it count." Alex doesn't answer, but the adoring expression suffusing him as he looks up into Mulder's eyes is enough. With a grin, Mulder slowly moves out of Alex's ass for the second time, and scoots off the end of the bed. Stretching, he says, "I'll get us towels." Alex follows him into the bathroom. "Actually, let's go ahead and shower." He gets into the shower and turns on the water. Raising his eyebrows at this excellent suggestion, Mulder climbs in after him, drawing the curtain. The chill is quickly turning to heat as the water beats down on them. Mulder feels drained and now he really is tired, but he lets Alex take him in hand. Alex is soon soaping him up, lathering his aching shoulders and running admiring hands over his body. The deliciousness of having this close intimacy after what they've just done, along with the hot water and the clean smell of the liquid soap is enough to relax him. Alex chuckles under his breath as he continues downwards, his hands moving over Mulder's buttocks, diving down between them and then reaching around from behind him to minister to his now-softened penis. After an excessively long washing of his groin, Alex removes his hands completely, only to urge him backwards against him under the spray to wet his hair. Alex's hands are back now in his hair, with shampoo. Mulder is drifting in soapy, steamy indolence and satiated pleasure. "Always wanted to do this to you," Alex murmurs with a nibble on his earlobe. He kisses Mulder's ear wetly and then helps him to rinse his head until the water runs clear. Mulder turns around to do the same, to reciprocate but finds Alex already at the task. He contents himself with grinning mindlessly, watching at how Alex's eyes flick occasionally to meet his with a curious mingling of desire and self-conscious awareness of how Mulder is watching him. "I love you, you know," Mulder says, not even letting himself think about it before he speaks. Because it's true. Alex stops, halting momentarily, caught off-guard. He resumes washing himself down with a little exhalation. "Fox," he says, with a glint in his eye, "I swear to you, I never thought I'd ever hear you say that to me. It's..." he trails away. "What?" Mulder waits. "What is it?" Alex smiles shyly and looks down. "It's nice." Mulder grins. And is surprised as Alex suddenly reaches out to grab the back of his head and pulls him into a kiss. With a grunt, Mulder returns it, meeting Alex's tongue with his own. The water pours down over both their heads and Mulder can't help but feel that everything is right in the world. As they break apart, Alex says hoarsely, "I love you, too." Mulder knows it to be true. And for the first time in his life, he can feel the odd sensation of comfortable contentment settle upon him. It hadn't been a fluke, that revelation he had the night before, about happiness. Alex notices that Mulder's starting to lose it at last. He turns off the water. "Come on, let's get some sleep." He steps out of the shower, hands one of the fluffy towels to Mulder and dries himself off. It isn't until they reach the bed again that he realizes that he's left a considerable wet spot right in the middle of the sheets. With a rueful smile, he returns to the bathroom for another towel. By the time he's cleaned it up, and spread the towel neatly over the area, Mulder is already under the covers with his head on the pillow, his eyes closing. Alex reaches over to turn off the lamp and slips between the covers, loving the way the darkness wraps around him in the hotel room. As he curls into Mulder's welcoming arms, he whispers, "Was it what you wanted? This, I mean?" "I should be asking you that," Mulder says lazily, the sound of sleep heavy in his voice. "Yeah," he replies. "It is." He can hear the smile in Mulder's comment. "Got you, didn't I?" "Yeah, Fox. You got me good," Alex grins. And he kisses him on the forehead before settling in with a quiet sigh, thinking privately, I got you too, my Fox. The End Jamiwilsen@hotmail.com

Date: March 11th, 2003 Title: Rose-Tinted World Pairing: M/K Rating: NC17 for m/m sex, language, romance, UST, RST, relationship Disclaimer: What's mine is yours. Website: http://www.catthause.com/jami/jami.htm Cover Art: http://www.catthause.com/jami/xfiles/rosetintedw.htm Feedback: jamiwilsen@hotmail.com Series: Yes, this is the third in three so far. First one is Hearts and Flowers, second is The Phoenix and the Sun. Spoilers: We don't need no spoilers. But, the show must go on! Beta: Cattnip Warning: AU from canon after Essence/Existence. Yeah, he died—but the aliens brought him back. ;) Summary: Hotel rooms and Honeymoons lead to healing and hot sex, but it can't all be as rosy as it seems, can it? back to top

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