I didn't turn on the lights for two reasons really. One, he'd have seen them and
gotten all paranoid the way he does. And, two, I preferred the dark. It hid so
many things... Like feelings. And needs. The odd missing limb. We'd used it to
hide from each other for years. You see, darkness and silence hid the real
meaning of my visits... from both of us. Since the beginning, we'd used them to
deny what was between us.
Until that night, of course. That night changed everything. I still don't know
if that's a good thing or not.
First, I suppose I should tell you about the beginning and the middle. I don't
know the end yet. Even if I did, I probably wouldn't tell you. I'm funny that
way.
It started in New York. The night I killed Cole. Mulder, being Mulder, couldn't
leave well enough alone. He wanted me to talk about it. Talking was the last
thing I wanted. I wanted to fuck. Or, be fucked. But, I was stuck with Mulder,
and he wasn't going to leave me alone long enough to go out and take care of my
problem. And, he kept pushing me. Calling me Alex. Finally, I snapped and
stormed into my (connecting) room and slammed the door. Didn't lock it, though.
Of course, he followed me. For an unpredictable man, Mulder is very predictable.
"Get. Out." I growled.
He just kept walking toward me.
"Mulder," It's really hard to sound threatening when backpedaling furiously. My
knees hit the edge of my bed and I sat down hard. "Mulder, don't."
"Shut up, Alex."
He stopped in front of me and knelt down to meet my eyes. I had my hands on the
bed behind me, preparatory to scrambling away from him when he put his hands on
my knees. Carefully, his thumbs stroked the inside of my thighs.
I was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.
A slight frown knit his brow as he stared at me. Trying to figure out what the
hell was wrong with me, no doubt. One hand lifted to my wrist, testing my pulse.
"What are you so afraid of?"
Afraid?! "Afraid," I sputtered. "I'm not afraid, Mulder." I pushed past him
and crossed the room coming to a stop in the doorway between our rooms. I crossed
my arms and leaned against the doorjamb. Mr. Cool, that's me. "I'm just fine.
And now, if you'll excuse me..."
He pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. "No."
I gaped at him. No, really, I did. I mean, how much more obvious could I be. I
wanted him to go away. Before I did something really, really stupid. "I'm going
to take a shower now, Mulder. That is, if it's okay with you."
He shrugged. "Sure, Alex." He shifted his weight to rest against the headboard
and picked up the TV remote. "I'm gonna catch the news."
"I'm fine, Mulder. You don't need to baby-sit me."
He just put one index finger up to his lips then pointed to the television. The
fucker.
I hate cold showers. They make me really cranky. But, I stood under the icy
stream for several minutes reciting all of the reasons I couldn't fuck him—'He's your partner... You are spying on him... You will betray him'—By the time
I'd dried off and donned my sweats I was in a truly pissy mood.
He was still there when I came out of the shower. His shoes and tie were off and
he lay sprawled loosely against my pillows looking like every fantasy I'd ever
had. "Mulder, you are one motherfucker." My tone was very reasonable—under
the circumstances.
"Let's leave my mother out of this, Alex," he drawled. Really. He drawled.
Damn him. "What IS this, Mulder?" I stalked over to the bedside and glared at
him. "Why are you here?" I was growing increasingly agitated. "Yesterday you
couldn't get rid of me fast enough. And now... you..." I paused, collecting my
scattered thoughts. "Why are you doing this, Mulder? What do you want from me?"
I finally asked.
"I think the problem here is what you want, Alex."
My hands were clenched in fists so tight that they trembled. "Fine—don't
explain, I'm not interested in your twisted reasoning, anyway." I took a deep
breath and turned away. I grabbed my t-shirt and pulled it on over my head then
sat on the room's only chair to pull on my sneakers. I had to get away from him.
When I rose, he sat up and looked at me with interest. "Are we going out?"
"Not 'we', Mulder. I am going out. Alone."
"I'm sorry, Alex." He rose and crossed to stand behind me. "I can't let you go
out alone. You're too upset and I—" One slim hand touched my shoulder.
It was too much; I pushed him away. "Don't you touch me," I snarled. "Don't you
lay a fucking hand on me." He moved towards me again and I put up one hand to
ward him off. It was shaking. Mr. Cool. "What is it with you, anyway? Is this
the latest 'get rid of the new guy' protocol?"
He closed one of his hands on my forearm. "Where are you going? Why are you
going? What is it you need?" His voice was warm, like velvet wrapping itself
softly around me. His eyes glistened as he looked at me so earnestly that my
heart nearly broke for what I knew I'd eventually do to him.
"Please," I whispered, "let me go, Mulder." I couldn't. I just couldn't.
Sooner or later, he'd find out the truth. This would make it so much worse.
Would make the inevitable betrayal unbearably personal.
For both of us.
"Tell me why. Tell me where you're going."
Fuck. He. Just. Would. Not. Let. It. Go.
Fine. He'd asked. I'd answer. "I'm going to get laid." His eyebrows rose a
bit but there was no other reaction. I could fix that. "I'm going to hit the
park, pick up a man and fuck him blind, Mulder."
He blinked.
Bastard.
"Am I supposed to be shocked?" His expression invited me to share the joke.
I had to smile. I couldn't help myself. He was just such a cute bastard.
"Alex," He laid one tentative hand on my shoulder, "you don't have to go out—"
"Dammit, Mulder." I jumped back out of his reach. "I am not going to fuck you.
You're my partner for godssake."
He shrugged. "Okay then, I'll fuck you."
God DAMN him.
I tried one more time. "Mulder, I'm looking to get my rocks off—I don't want a
lover. I don't need a lover."
"I offered to fuck you, Alex, not marry you."
So, I let him. After all, a man would have to be a fool to pass up such an
offer. Many people have said many things about me; not one of them ever called
me a fool.
And, that was pretty much the high point of our "relationship" until, of course,
that night. Oh, I don't mean that we didn't continue to fuck like madmen, I mean
that was the only time we actually talked beforehand. Or during. Or after. The
sex was always great. In fact, the sex was mind-bending. He had this signal to
let me know he wanted to see (read: fuck) me... He had this picture of a rat and—you know where I'm going with this, don't you?—Yep, he'd post it in the window.
I loved it.
I know you're wondering how we got past the fact that I'd betrayed him, killed
his father, killed Melissa, and all the other lovely things I'd done to him. Of
course, lest you forget, he'd done his fair share of sinning, too; he couldn't
seem to stop himself from beating the crap out of me every time he saw me, didn't
even notice that an alien had possessed me, dragged me off to Russia and then
wouldn't let me do what he'd brought me to do, was really the reason I found
myself a one-armed man and so on and so forth. We certainly had our obstacles to
overcome.
So, how did we do it?
Easy... We ignored it all. Every last bit of it.
You see, not long after Scully shot him I went to his place. I didn't go in, I
just stood out front hoping to see him. I wanted to be sure he really was okay.
So I'm a sentimental fool. Shoot me.
Anyway, I could see him through the window as he wandered around his place, got
himself something to eat and sat on the sofa to watch TV. Well, I thought he was
watching TV. Silly me. Next thing I knew, there he was standing across the
street staring at me. Just as I was ready to break and run for it, he went back
inside. What would he do? Call Scully? Or, worse yet, call Skinner. Curiosity
kept me in my place.
He reappeared in the window and taped something to the pane, turning a lamp on
behind it. The aforementioned rat, of course.
I went in. What else could I do?
When I got upstairs the door to 42 was ajar. I paused, wondering momentarily if
it was a trap. It was entirely possible but there'd been something in his
expression... What the hell? You only die once, right? So, I walked in. Didn't
even pull a weapon. Mr. Cool rides again.
He was all over me the minute the door closed. His groping hands hit the handgun
I'd tucked in my belt. Stepping back, he held out one hand.
Well, hell.
I handed over the gun and two knives. He looked down at them and then back at
me. Eyebrows raised he held out his other hand. I shrugged and gave him the 9mm
in my shoulder holster and my icepick. His eyes narrowed a bit at the unusual
weapon then he shrugged. Carefully, he laid my offerings out on the hall table
and studied them for a beat. Turned back, crossed his arms and raised that
damned brow at me again.
Mulder was starting to show definite signs of knowing me far too well.
There was an easier way to do this. I shrugged out of the leather and it fell to
the floor with an audible sound. He looked mildly curious but didn't bother to
search it. Almost reached for my t-shirt when it thumped too, but looked up
again when I unbuckled my belt. By the time I was naked, Mulder appeared to have
lost interest in my armament. He spun me around to face the door and leaned up
against my back. I sighed and ground my ass into his hard cock.
He fucked me right there. Up against the door.
You wouldn't think Mulder was the macho type, would you? Well, you'd be wrong.
He does macho well. Extremely well, in fact.
And so it went. It wasn't what I wanted but what I had. And, it was better than
nothing. I'd let the need get bad. Really bad. And then I'd go looking for
him. Make sure he saw me. And watch his window. And, sure enough, the rat
would appear.
We even made it past the front door a time or two. I never saw his bedroom,
though. I don't know if we just couldn't hold out long enough to get there or if
he couldn't... wouldn't take rat-bastard-Alex-Krycek in there.
Whatever his reasons, I tried not to let it bother me.
Sometimes I even succeeded.
But, more and more often I found myself wanting more. Needing more. I'd always
sworn that I would not allow myself to become addicted to anything... no drugs,
smokes or alcohol for Alex. So, I decided to quit him. Naturally enough, as
soon as I'd made that decision, my "employer" sent me to see Mulder.
Sometimes you just can't win.
I went. After all, it was important. The fate of the human race and all that
shit. You know?
He'd changed. Mulder has always been a cynic. And a believer. That's Mulder
for you—a contradiction in terms. But the Mulder I faced that night was so...
lost. And angry. I had to play rough with him in order to get his attention.
Okay—the truth was I had to keep my distance somehow. All I really wanted to
do was hold him. Comfort him. Of course, I couldn't do that. He'd have
probably keeled over from a heart attack. So, I kissed him, gave him my gun and
left. Turned my back on him. While he held my gun.
While he held my gun?! Jesus H Christ. What in the hell was happening to me?!
Where was my edge? My survival instinct?
I scared the hell out of myself that night.
I didn't plan on seeing him again. I really didn't. Honestly, I expected to be
quite dead in the near future. I suppose that's the real reason I kissed him.
We'd never done that, you know. Kissed, I mean. We fucked, that's all. No
foreplay—aside from the mind-fucks that were part of the dance—no post-coital
cuddles. Just fucking. One kiss didn't seem like such a bad idea at the time.
A goodbye. A thank you. An apology.
Then they burned his files. And almost destroyed him.
As soon as I heard about the fire I went to him. I didn't wait for his signal; I
even knocked on the door.
He looked so tired. Defeated. The way I'd imagined him looking when he figured
out my first betrayal.
That expression almost destroyed me.
He walked over to the couch and sat down. "What do you want, Krycek?"
"I heard about the fire and I..." What the hell could I say? I swallowed and tried
again. "I just wanted to see if you're okay."
He laughed. I hoped I'd never hear such a sound from him again. Bitterness and
loss and dead dreams. It was horrible. "It's over. I quit."
"Mulder, this is what they want. You can't give up now. They'd never have gone
this far if you weren't close to..."
"To what?" He grimaced. "The truth? There is no truth, Krycek."
I talked, I cajoled, I argued. I wasted my breath.
When I left that night I decided, once again, that I was not going to see him
again.
I know, you don't believe me. But I did. And it made me feel better.
Almost a year went by. It was a very long year. A lonely year. But, I stuck to
my guns and stayed away from him. I heard once that he was looking for me.
Gods, it was hard to ignore that. But I did. Kept myself busy with work. You
know, lying, killing, and betraying. Stick with your strengths, I always say.
He almost caught up with me one night at the hospital. Fear lent me wings. No,
not fear of him—fear of my own weakness. Fear of my feelings for him. If I
could avoid him I could avoid facing my feelings. So I ran.
And I kept on running.
Until that night, of course. You see, I've finally gotten back to the beginning
of the story. Or, is it the end...
He walked in and sat tiredly on the old couch. Didn't even bother with the
lights. I watched unseen from my corner. He looked older. Fragile, somehow. I
thought fleetingly that I might just sit there silently until he fell asleep and
then slip out. I just wasn't sure if I could handle his pain right then. He
shifted and looked right at me.
"You heard." It wasn't a question.
I swallowed. "Yeah, I heard. Mulder, I'm sorry."
He brought his hands up to scrub at his face. "She was so young, Alex. So
young. Only fourteen."
Okay, I was lost. What the hell was he talking about? "Mulder?" I must have
sounded as confused as I felt, because he looked over at me with a frown. "I
came here tonight because I heard about your Mother," I explained.
"Not Sam?"
Sam? "Your sister?"
His eyes were suddenly suspiciously bright.
Oh no.
"Yes." Shit. I'd always thought she was alive somewhere.
"And she's..."
"She's dead, Alex. My sister's dead."
Fuck.
I rose and went to kneel in front of him. "Are you sure?" He just looked at me
with empty eyes. "I mean, he's lied so many times." No need to define 'he'.
"About her. About so many things."
His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. "I'm sure."
A million questions raced through my mind. I held my silence, though. Kneeling
there with my hand on his thigh, I studied him. There were new lines around his
eyes and mouth. Lines of pain. The weak light highlighted strands of silver in
his hair. We were getting older, Mulder and I. I sighed and thought back over
the years we'd known each other. When I first met him he'd been so filled with
the fire of his search for truth. But, with each loss, every time they took
something from him, that fire dimmed a bit more. Until I couldn't bear to see
him anymore. Couldn't look at what I—and others like me—had done to him.
I sighed and rose to my feet. "I am sorry, Mulder. I never..." Never what? Meant
it to go so far? Meant to hurt you so much? Meant to fall in love with you?
Wait a minute. Love? Me? No, I couldn't be in love with him. I just couldn't.
I didn't even believe in love. It was a fairy tale. A myth. I backed up a
step, putting desperately needed space between us. I had to get away from him.
Before I said or did something I'd really regret.
"Alex," Mulder reached for me with one hand.
Uh oh. //Alex// I stepped back again, more determined to leave. "I gotta go,
Mulder."
"No." Such a wealth of need and pain and fear all in that one word. "Please,
Alex. Don't go." He swallowed heavily. "I can't be alone tonight. I need you.
Please."
Luckily the floor was there to catch me when my knees gave way. I stared at him,
watching as one tear left a trail on his face. "Okay. I'll stay with you, if
that's what you want, Mulder."
He drew in an unsteady breath. "Thanks."
Jesus. He was thanking me. After all I'd done to him.
For a time we both sat unmoving, lost in our respective memories. Eventually, my
knees and back protested and I rose to my feet, stiff and awkward. He looked up
in near panic at my movement.
"Relax, Mulder," I soothed. "I'm not going anywhere. It's just... I'm not as
young as I used to be; I can't kneel like that for very long."
"Alex," he reached for my hand—my artificial hand.
Damn. He'd never really reacted to my prosthesis before, certainly he'd never
touched it. Others had, though, and I'd grown to expect swift retreat from such
contact. Trust Mulder to react in an unexpected way to my deformity. I honestly
think it never occurred to him to react in any way... positively or negatively.
It was part of me and that was that.
"Help me, Alex." Oh god... why did he have to keep calling me that? "Make me
forget. Just for a little while. Please."
I moved over to sit next to him on that beat-up old sofa he insisted on keeping.
"What do you want, Mulder? Tell me... tell me how to help you."
"Hold me."
Okay, I could do that.
"Keep me safe."
I could probably do that, too.
"Make love to me."
Uh oh. Make love? I could fuck with the best of 'em... but 'Make Love'? Not
something I'd experienced—at least, not in the recent past. Not in more years
than I cared to count, actually. "Mulder, I'm not... um, it's been... "
He turned the saddest eyes imaginable on me in the obvious expectation of denial
before I could manage to stumble through my explanation and stood up, intending
to go who-knows-where. All things considered—this was Mulder I was dealing
with—I figured I'd better stop him and fast.
"Wait, please." I stood myself and reached to grab one of his arms, holding him
in place. "I'm trying to tell you that it's been a long, long time since I've
tried—even wanted—to make love to anyone. In my life it just doesn't come
up, y'know?"
He stopped trying to pull away and met my eyes. Definitely a good sign.
"And," I dropped my gaze, embarrassed, "I haven't let anyone see... I mean, I
keep my shirt on since..." Lost for words, I silently gestured toward my prosthetic
arm. "But, for you, tonight, I'm willing to try. If you're sure you want me as
I am."
"Alex," he said softly, "come into the bedroom with me."
Well, I guess that answered that doubt. Mostly... He hadn't actually seen my arm—or, what's left of it—yet. What the hell? I rose and followed him into the
room he'd kept so private until now.
I suppose that during one of my... unauthorized visits to his apartment I could
have investigated his bedroom. Somehow, it just never seemed right. I don't
know. Maybe... maybe I was holding out for this invitation... or, maybe it was a
kind of twisted respect for his privacy. Laughable, huh? I couldn't even count
the number of times I'd been there on the sly—placing bugs, removing them,
hacking into his computer... just resting there, soaking up the feel and smell of
his presence. But, I'd never come into this room. And, as it turns out, it was
well worth the wait. Who'd have thought it possible that he had a room like...
like... well, like that? I mean, a waterbed? With a mirrored canopy? I was
dumbstruck.
While I stared in astonishment at the bed, he watched me with an expression that
could almost be called amusement. I turned to meet his eyes. And suddenly, oh
god, all I wanted was to touch him, taste him... I wanted to bury myself in him.
He seemed to recognize my desire and he moved closer to me, pulling me in to
share his warmth. I leaned into him and just closed my eyes, breathing in the
wonderful clean, crisp scent of him. I actually started to shake, as my hand
traced the long line of his back. I'd never really touched him... not like this—no anger, fear or violence—just warmth and comfort.
I pulled back a fraction so that I could look at him, reassure myself that this
was real. That he was holding me close... needing me. Hazel eyes opened to meet
mine and he brought his hands up to frame my face, studying my features with rapt
attention. Slowly, oh so slowly, his fingers traced my brow and traced a line
down either side of my jaw, coming to rest on my lips. I relaxed my mouth,
softening my lips and his forefinger slipped inside. I moaned. I couldn't help
it... he tasted so damn good. I sucked his finger further into my mouth and
savored it as if I hadn't eaten in weeks and this was the only sustenance I'd
ever wanted or needed.
Then, he moaned. Damn... this was killing me already and I'd hardly even
touched him. Releasing his finger, I stared at his lips. Suddenly I wanted to
... I needed to... I started to lean toward him tentatively, unsure of my
reception. Abruptly, he reached forward, clasped his hands around my head, and
pressed his mouth to mine.
After a moment's shock that he would actually do this, I melted into him. I
couldn't get close enough. Closing my arm fiercely behind him, I opened my mouth
to his and almost fainted when his tongue entered me. It was... everything. He
tasted of tears and passion and toothpaste. I'd have probably just melted into a
puddle on the floor if he hadn't been holding me so tightly. Our tongues tangled
together as we fought to explore each other's mouths. I was gasping for air and
moaning deep in my throat like a love-starved teenager getting some for the very
first time.
He finally pulled back... course that was probably a good thing because, left to
my own devices I'd likely still be attached to his mouth like a limpet. Then, he
smiled at me. I almost came in my pants. I don't think he'd ever smiled at me
before that moment. I'd seen him smile... at others, never at me. If he had, I
think I might have done anything for another—even go straight. I mean that in
strictest the legal sense, in case you were wondering.
He reached up to remove the leather jacket I still wore and startled me a bit. I
almost stepped back, but he held me close and calmed me with a murmur. "Hush,
Alex," he said.
Such simple words... Hush, Alex. You wouldn't think I'd be nearly reduced to
tears by them, would you? Well, I was. Damn him... I came so close to tears so
many times that night. I hadn't cried since I was a small child. And here he
was, almost destroying me with two simple words.
It scared me. Badly. I wanted to run. To hide from him, from what he made me
feel, from the way he touched me. So much care... for me. Me.
The need to touch him overrode my flight reflex, though. I let him remove my
leather and reached to get his shirt off in turn. Oh my. He was looking good.
Really, really good. He'd lost some weight since the last time I'd seen him
shirtless, that day at the Bureau pool. Wouldn't you just fucking know it... the
rest of us gain weight with the years; Mulder just keeps getting leaner and
better looking with time.
I hesitantly reached to touch him. He didn't try to stop me; in fact, he leaned
into my caress with a sigh. I didn't quite know how to react. I mean, I just
couldn't help expecting the other shoe to drop at any minute, you know? But,
what the hell? I ran my fingers over his chest, delighting in the softness of
the hair, the sensitive way his nipples crinkled at my touch, and the way he kept
encouraging my explorations with subtle movements and quiet sounds. It was too
wonderful for words.
I stroked every centimeter of flesh that I could reach, several times over. Then,
I leaned forward and touched the tip of my tongue to his nipple. He gasped and
buried his fingers in my hair, holding me to him as he arched back in a silent
plea for more. Opening my mouth, I drew his hardness inside and alternately
nibbled and sucked at it.
Jesus, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. Imagine what it did to me at the
time. He was so damned responsive. If I'd known... Oh god, if I'd known how his
moans and sighs were going to tear me apart, would I have even shown up that
night? I honestly don't know the answer to that one. Maybe I'll live long
enough to find out.
Sorry, lost my train of thought. Where was I? Oh, of course.
I tasted my way across to the other nipple and gave it the same loving attention
until he started pulling at my hair demanding... something.
"What?" I finally gasped at him, lifting my head.
He plucked at my shirtfront questioningly. "I want to touch you too, Alex. Is it
all right if I..."
Ah. Moment of truth time. I nodded slowly and lifted my arm for him. He pulled
the shirt over my head and worked it down off of my prosthesis with great care.
Frowning, he studied the straps of the device and looked back at me. I reached
to remove it, but he stopped me with a careful touch.
"Let me."
I stood quietly while he figured it out. What with nerves, fear, desire and so
on, it wasn't easy. I even managed to not shake. Well, not too much. He
actually got the damned thing off me pretty quickly... considering it was his
first effort. Took me a hell of a long time to learn how to do the same.
Course, I was working from a bit of a disadvantage at the time.
He settled my arm on the dresser top without taking his eyes off of me and lifted
his hands to touch my chest. His hands were warm as he ran them across my skin,
stopping here and there to investigate the scars that I'd collected along the way
to... to this moment. I couldn't imagine any other reason for my life; I still
can't, to tell you the truth. I'd started to shiver by then, so he leaned back
to look from me to the bed.
"Shall we?" He asked. "It's heated, you know." His grin was a little shy, but
filled with hope and need.
"Yeah." I answered. And, damn, I was lucky I managed that one word with the way
I was breathing. You try letting him touch you and let's see how well you can
speak. Wait. Scratch that. You just keep the hell away from him. He's mine.
Um, sorry. Reflex. No offense intended.
He backed to the bed and stopped, slipping his shoes off. Then he knelt and
lifted my pant leg so he could unlace my boot. I was so distracted by the sight
that he had to tug at my leg twice before I realized what he wanted. Grinning at
my own foolishness, I lifted my foot so he could remove my boot and sock. Once
done, he managed the other one without incident and rose to stand before me.
We were getting down to it, now. He looked almost as astonished as I felt.
After all we'd said and done to each other, I truly think that this was the very
last thing either of us expected to ever happen. With great care, he dropped his
hands to my belt watching me closely all the while.
I laughed. I'm sorry, I know I've shocked you. But, can you imagine? Being
treated like a shy virgin. At my age? With my background? I couldn't help
it... it just tickled my funny bone. And, if you must know the truth, I was a
little apprehensive.
Of course, it surprised him. He dropped his hands and I think he'd have backed
away if possible. Lucky for me the bed was right behind him.
"No." I reached down and pulled one of his hands back to my belt. "I'm just a
little nervous, Mulder. That's all. Go ahead." I invited. "Please."
With swift moves I no longer possessed, he unbuckled the belt and undid my jeans.
I reached in turn for his trousers. I could no longer do such things quickly,
but I still managed to get the job done with admirable dispatch. As I pushed
them from his hips I started to slide down to my knees intending to taste what
I'd only felt until now. He must have read my intentions in my expression
because he reached to stop me before I could get very far.
"No, Alex. If you do that right now it'll be over way too soon."
Well, I could understand that. I could even sympathize. But, I was going to
suck his cock before the night was over, I promised myself. I suspect he read
that one too, because he flushed.
With a lithe twist, he sent his trousers and boxers to the floor and then reached
to push my jeans away. He pressed himself against me and kissed me again. It
was the most incredible feeling... after all this time and so many fast and hard
fucks between us; it was extraordinary to have his naked body against me while
his lips and mouth devoured mine. Either sensation by itself would have been
mind- blowing. Together they were... unimaginable.
Regrettably, I had to pull back. "I can't... I'm gonna... Fuck, Mulder. Let's
just get in the damn bed already, okay?"
He laughed that time. I even understood why. I pushed him back and he tumbled
onto the mattress pulling me along with him. I, of course, landed on top but
rolled to one side pretty quickly. I just can't do on top too well anymore. Not
and use my hand for other things. And there were so many things I wanted to do
with my hand. I think he understood, because he followed my movement and ended up
exactly where I needed him to be.
Smart man, that Mulder.
We moved together, kissing passionately as our hands traced trembling paths over
each other's bodies. He shifted over me more completely so that our cocks
brushed together. I broke my mouth away from his only because I had to tell
him...
"Oh god, Mulder. You feel so... Mmm. Yeah, that. Do that again, please."
Hey, I was swept up in the passion of the moment. No one speaks sensibly at such
times. I don't care what books you read or what movies you watch. Trust me. It
just doesn't happen.
Since I was babbling pretty much incessantly and therefore couldn't kiss him, he
found something else to do with his mouth. He attached it to my neck and
proceeded to do the most amazing things to me. I don't think I'd ever felt
anything like it before. I know I was flushed. Could hear my own moans quite
clearly. It would've been downright embarrassing, had I been in my right mind.
I'd wrapped my arm around his back at some point and I know my hold on him had to
hurt. Hell, it hurt me. But he didn't complain. He just kept nibbling on me.
Sucking at me. Biting me. No one's ever done that, made me feel so out of
control that I honestly don't think I could've remembered my own name if he'd
asked me. Luckily, he already knew it. I know he knew it because he kept saying
it over and over: "Alex." Bite. "Alex." Nibble. "Alex." Suck.
I'm sure you get the idea.
His mouth finally reached my shoulder and I couldn't help but shy away from the
touch.
And, he said it again. "Hush, Alex." Damn him. How could he possibly want to
see it, touch it or taste it? It was so fucking ugly to me that I just couldn't
imagine that he actually wanted even that part of me. But he did. He kissed
every hideous inch of what was left of my arm. And by the time he was done, even
I didn't hate it quite so much anymore.
I'll always owe him for that. Always.
Once finished with my stump, his mouth moved on to my chest with the same
devotion he'd shown thus far. I thanked god for his oral obsession with every
breath. Or, I begged god for its continuation. I don't remember clearly, I just
remember mentioning god and inordinate number of times that night. Once he'd
reached my waist, I believed my ability to speak might be forever lost. Not that
I cared, mind you. It was a bit startling, though. I found out quickly that it
had not in fact deserted me when his warm breath touched my cock. With a muffled
shout I reared up, pulling his head away by means of the tight hold I had on his
hair.
"No. God, Mulder don't. I can't. I'll come. Too soon." Well, I think that's
what I said. Whatever the case might have been, he seemed to understand me
because he didn't. Well, not at that particular moment, anyway.
He did slide back up my body in a torturously slow move. I swear he just wanted
to hear me shout again. I did. As soon as his hips pressed me into the
mattress, I yelled something obscene. Right in his ear, too. I don't think he
minded. He smiled and kissed me, in fact. Well hell, had I known how fond he
was of loudly proclaimed obscenities I'd have done it years ago. I'm a nice
guy... always try to please. All he'd have had to do was tell me.
"Mulder," I gasped into his mouth, "please."
He moved his mouth from mine only to latch onto my ear. "Mmmhmm?" He murmured
into said ear.
"I... um... I need... I want..." I panted unintelligently. "Please, Mulder." I
finally wailed. "Please fuck me. Please. I can't wait. You're killing me."
"But Alex," he whispered into my ear, "I thought that tonight was my turn."
Well, that stopped me in my tracks, let me tell you. "What?" I squeaked. He
couldn't possibly mean what I thought he meant. Could he?
"I want you inside of me tonight." He released my ear and pulled back to meet my
eyes. "Is that okay?"
"I... I... um... sure, if that's what you want." I finally managed to sputter.
"Oh yeah," he whispered. "I'm sure."
Well. That was okay then. Only question was... how, logistically speaking,
were we gonna accomplish the deed? Because, it ain't easy, not with one arm.
Believe me, I know. He seemed to know what he wanted though. Who was I to
argue? We'd just have to figure it out. I had faith in us.
He rolled away to scrabble around in the bedside table. When he turned back he
was clutching a tube of some kind of lubrication and a condom. Oh, and he was
smiling. Too many more of his smiles and I'd just melt away.
"Ah, Mulder... How do you want to do this?"
His eyebrows very nearly disappeared into his hairline. He had no idea what I
meant. Not even a clue. It just didn't occur to him that my arm or lack
thereof, might be a problem. No wonder I'd fallen in love with the guy.
I did not write that, by the way. Didn't feel it... didn't write it. And if
you believe that, I know of this bridge...
"Mulder, I can't do on top. Not without my arm."
"Oh."
I'd gotten him with that one. He turned the most amazing shade of red. I'd have
laughed if I weren't so damn nervous about the whole thing.
"I could be behind you, I guess. But, I'd really rather be able to see your
face."
"Well," he said, looking at me with a smile. "I suppose that if you can't be on
top, I will."
"Oh."
It's all right. Go right on ahead and laugh at me. I deserve it. I just
couldn't think of any other response. I mean, he just took my breath away with
his simple statement. Not just any man will let another top him, 'specially when
he's the one that has to be on top.
"Is that okay?" He looked a little bit doubtful; my brilliant response must have
worried him a little.
"Oh hell." I laughed and pulled him close for a quick kiss. "We're dancing
around each other like a couple of virgins tonight, Mulder. Of course it's all
right. It's a fucking brilliant idea. Now, straddle me." He climbed aboard but
was looking down at me. "No, face the other way. I need to get you ready."
"Oh."
I swear to god... that's what he said. But the way he said it was...
breathless and hungry and so damn hot that I began to think that this night would
kill me after all. Not that I minded. Never thought I'd die with a huge smile
on my face, though.
By the time I'd recovered from that little 'oh', he'd turned himself around and I
was staring at his ass. And staring. And... well, staring. I'd never thought
... Well, it was quite a moment for me.
Finally, when he started to shift a little from nerves, I remembered the object
of this little exercise. I reached down and grabbed the lube and gave it to him.
Then I held out my hand. He figured it out almost immediately. Snapping open
the top, he squeezed a dollop onto my fingertips then dropped the tube and
grabbed hold of my knees. Hmmm. Looked like Mulder was ready to roll. I could
definitely get behind that idea. Sorry, I just couldn't resist that one.
I smeared the lube around my fingers with my thumb, warming it in the process.
Reaching up, I began to run my fingers along the crack of his ass. He hissed and
leaned forward, spreading his legs even further apart. His puckered opening
called to me so I brushed against it with the tip of one finger and he groaned.
Oh yeah. This was gonna be one hell of a lot of fun. I pressed against him a
little more firmly and he tried to sit on my finger. I, being the perverse
bastard that I am, immediately moved my finger away. He moaned so piteously that
I felt kind of bad for doing that to him.
In a fit of remorse, I grabbed his hip, pulling him back toward my mouth.
"C'mere," I whispered. "I need to taste you."
Contrary to popular opinion, Mulder can, given the right incentive, follow
orders. With gratifying speed he shifted back a little so that I could taste
that sweet ass. And it is, indeed, sweet. I bit at one ass cheek then kissed it
better. I left a huge purple mark on the other side; it just tasted so damn
good. He was giving me directions the entire time. You know... "Fuck, yeah.
There. Harder." And, a whole lot of mmms and aaahs and oh gods were coming from
him too, if I recall correctly.
All of his ardent responses were making me insane. Never before had I know such
an openly passionate lover. It was intoxicating. With Mulder in his life a man
sure as hell wouldn't ever need drugs.
"Alex," he gasped, "please. Please, oh god, please." Damn, I enjoyed his
breathless begging. "Fuuuuck. Please, Alex I need you inside me."
Oh yeah. The desperate sounds rose in pitch and intensity when I pushed one
finger inside of him. "Oh god... mmm... More... Please." A second finger joined
the first and he bucked back toward me almost keening his need. Turning my
fingers inside of him, I brushed against his prostate. He yelled, and
practically jumped off of me.
"No more." He said gasping for air. "I'm ready. Oh fuck, I am so ready." He
grabbed the condom, ripping it open with his teeth. His hands shook so hard as
he rolled it down over my cock that I was afraid I might come simply from the
knowledge that I had done this to him. As he searched frantically through the
bedcovers with both hands looking for the lube, he was whimpering under his
breath.
Again, I held out my hand in silent demand. He looked as if he might ignore me
so great was his need. "Mulder... let me. I can't... If you... touch me...
I'll..." Reluctantly, he did as I wanted and soon I had a generous amount of lube
on my fingertips. Carefully, I reached down to spread it on my aching cock
afraid that too much stimulation would bring the proceedings to an ingloriously
premature end.
As soon as I was ready, he straddled me once again and stared down into my eyes.
"Alex... can't wait... Please... need you... ah... Fuck me, Alex. Please, fuck
me now."
I held my cock steady and nodded to him. "Okay, Mulder. Now."
We both gasped as he slowly lowered himself onto me. He didn't stop his downward
motion until his ass brushed against my pubic hair. I held my breath, praying to
a god I'd long ago lost any faith in; not yet, please god, not yet. I lay
staring up at him, lovingly tracing the long clean line of his throat with my
eyes when he threw his head back to gasp for air. His hands were clenched on
his straining thighs and every muscle in his torso stood out in stark relief. He
was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
I closed my hand around his hip and encouraged him to start a gentle up and down
motion. And, oh fuck, it was so damned good that we both groaned aloud. We'd
been working up to this for so long, that neither of us had the patience to make
it last the way we both wanted it to. His movements became stronger, more
frantic, lifting himself up with trembling thighs and then dropping down onto me,
grinding himself onto my cock. I grunted and arched my back, pushing my hips up
to meet his downward thrusts.
He rolled his head forward to look at me. He was so fucking exquisite I couldn't
breathe for looking at him. Heavy lidded eyes stared down at me as he panted
through opened lips. "Oh god... fuck... I need... Alex, please... touch me."
I could feel my orgasm starting to build, sending sparks of fire up my spinal
column. Closing my fist around his erection, I pumped him in concert with my
strokes inside of him. "Come for me. I want... to see you... Mulder. Come
on..."
One hand came forward to touch my lips as he stared at me, hazel eyes cloudy with
passion. "Fox. My... name... Fox."
"Ohhhh god." Overcome with emotion that he'd actually asked me to call him by
his first name, I bucked up grinding against him as my orgasm rushed through me
and into the recesses of his body. "Mmmm... yeah. I'm... I'm... Fox... oh god,
Fox. Oh yes!"
Every muscle in his body tightened and then he was coming and wailing my name at
the top of his lungs.
I caught his shoulder, easing him down to lie over my chest when he collapsed
forward. We lay for several minutes just trying to breathe. Reluctantly, he
pulled away giving a murmured sound of loss as my softening cock slipped from his
body. Grabbing a box of tissue from the bedside table, he lovingly cleaned me up
and disposed of the used condom, then did a somewhat more cursory cleanup job on
himself. He gave a weary groan and lay down beside me still breathing rather
quickly.
I wasn't too sure what I was supposed to do next. Should I leave? After a few
moments of silence, I drew a deep breath and started to move toward the edge of
the bed.
"Where are you going?" He asked me in a tired voice.
"I thought I'd better get moving before I fall asleep."
"No." Rising up on one elbow, he closed his hand on my shoulder. "All night.
You promised."
Actually, I believe the deal was tonight... but, hey, I surely wasn't gonna argue
semantics at this stage of the game. I lay back and rolled toward him. And
he...this one still gets me... he pulled me close, wrapping his arms tightly
around me and kissed my hair. I rested my head on his chest and tried so hard to
stay awake and savor the comfort of being held by him. Of course, I eventually
fell asleep, but not before I'd committed to memory every touch and sight and
sound that I'd experienced this night. I might never get such a chance again,
and I wanted to be sure that not one millisecond of the experience was lost to
me.
I woke abruptly, not sure what had disturbed my sleep. I lay still, listening
for any unidentifiable sounds. Nothing. But, still, something was not quite
right. The air... felt charged somehow... almost as if a huge thunderstorm had
just swept through the room. As I lay there, the hairs on my arms and legs stood
on end.
And, then she appeared; a young girl with the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. She
stood at the bedside staring at me for several long minutes. Oddly, I felt no
fear, only a great sadness that I could never know her... that she had been dead
for so many years. She reached down and used one fingertip to gather a tear as
it fell from the corner of my eye. She studied it carefully, as if she held the
most precious jewel in the Kingdom, then touched her lips to it before
transferring it to her brother's lips where it lay sparkling in the dawn light.
He woke gasping her name: "Sam?"
In that moment, I learned not only what he'd gained, but also what he'd lost.
Somehow, I could comprehend just how costly was the peace he'd finally found; and
I understood the pain he would always know.
I held him close stroking his soft hair as he cried himself back to sleep.
The Show Must Go On
by Jennie
I'll face it with a grin
I'm never giving in
On with the show
I'll top the bill
I'll overkill
I have to find the will to carry on
On with the
On with the show
The show must go on
—Queen
