He had missed the end of "War of the Worlds." Video
just wasn't the same; tv had an immediacy. You had to be
somewhere at that time, it was a date, a time, something
tangible. Great, he thought. My reality is now determined
by TV Guide.
Still, he had fallen asleep before the end. Or, rather,
they had fallen asleep. His warm body was curved
precariously near the edge of the sofa, but he slept on,
completely unaware. They were tangled together, his arm
curved around Alex's waist, back-to-chest, although the
evening hadn't started out like that. They had necked like
teenagers for a while, before Alex suddenly pulled away,
giggling, and flipped around in front of him.
"What?" he asked, brushing his lips against the
mussed hair.
"I'm missing the movie."
"You've never seen this before?"
"Not since I was a kid." The voice was soft. "I don't
remember how it ends."
"We win."
"Well, duh." Mulder snorted at that. "You know what I
mean."
He did know, too. They had brushed up against that
dark place again, almost getting caught up, carried away.
They could have stepped over at any time in the last six
weeks, but they didn't, always coming so close to the edge,
before one of them pulled back. Somehow he thought that
once he knew that Alex loved him, that it would be different—
easier—but it wasn't. They were taking it slow—too slow?—
but neither one of them had completely dropped their
defenses. Or rather, one had, but the other-
"Damn."
"Hunh?" Sleep-slurred noise, then Alex rolled—the
wrong way. Mulder reached out an arm and pulled him
back, close, before he fell off the couch.
"You need a bigger couch."
"I need a lot of things." The head twisted, a bloodshot
eye peeked up at him. "The bed's free."
"Yeah." Alex had crashed there many times, crawling
into the previously seldom-used bed when he was too tired
to go back to his apartment. Mulder usually kept him there
late on purpose, he liked knowing he was there. He had
fought Alex's leaving, but there wasn't really a valid reason
that he could give for him not to move out once the
indictments were put into motion. He was simply too
high-profile to hurt now, so he couldn't argue that he needed
protection anymore. And there wasn't any other reason—
Alex turned and pressed hard against him. The kiss
was fleeting. Then he pulled himself away and headed for
the bedroom. He turned in the doorway.
"I missed the end of the movie, again."
"So did I. We probably won."
Alex smiled, tiredly. "Yeah."
He had no idea why he'd agreed to this. Parties were
interminable to him in the best of circumstances, but an
FBI party—the whole concept was just so wrong. Still,
Scully had nagged him into going, and Scully never nagged
unless it was important. The case was wrapping up so well,
and the shockwaves were still reverberating. Cancerman
dead, the others dead or rounded up—it was big news. The
world had changed.
A party seemed almost distasteful, but it wasn't
celebrating death, it was the annual Christmas party. This
was the first time he could actually conceive of going—the
atmosphere around "Spooky Mulder" had changed at the
Bureau. Respect, hard-earned, was trickling it's way down
to him. Reluctantly, in spite of himself, he was enjoying the
feeling.
So he was going. And not only that, Alex was going,
too.
Wow.
"Pretty good, huh?" He blinked, and Scully smiled at
him, her eyes sparkling. She looked great. Not just great,
but, to corner a stereotype, she looked fabulous. Rich,
green velvet, wicked-looking heels, hair swept up—and her
smile was infectious. And at her side—what?—Skinner. In a
tux. Hand on her arm.
The world really was coming to an end.
"Everybody's here. I can't believe who's crawled out of
their holes to come here tonight." Mulder shot her a glance,
but she was busy scanning the crowd. She grabbed his
arm. "Isn't that Emily Green?" she asked, directing him with
her eyes. "I didn't know she was back from Canada." Then,
before he could stop her, she was crossing over to where
the tall, stunning agent was standing.
Emily Green. Great, that was all that he needed
tonight. A flash of memory brought him back to a night
almost four years ago, a night he spent with Emily Green at
a computer terminal that nearly—nearly—turned into a much
more meaningful encounter.
Before he knew it, the green-eyed blonde was standing
at his side. "Fox Mulder," she smiled, and reached out a
hand. "It's been a long time. I can't believe I'm seeing you
at one of these things. Still, with the year you've been
having, this should be a celebratory bash for the X-Files
alone. So, are you joining us on the stag line?" At his
puzzled look, she explained, "All of us poor unfortunates
alone at this professional function."
"Well, I—" Before he could get any further, behind him
he heard a familiar voice saying, "Scully, wow, you look
incredible."
"I wish people wouldn't keep saying that like it was
such an unbelievable effort on my part, Krycek," she sighed.
"If I had known I'd get such a reaction, I would have worn a
suit."
"Well, you would have looked wonderful even if you
had," he assured her. "But still, wow—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she laughed. "I've heard all I want
to, for the moment. You clean up real nice, too, Alex."
This final remark startled Mulder. He couldn't
remember ever having heard Scully call Krycek by his first
name. Their conversation continued.
"So, which one of these guys won your hand for the
evening? Or are you on the prowl?"
He could hear her mock-glare, and struggled with a
smile. Then Alex said, more seriously, "Ah, sir, good
evening."
"Krycek." Dryly put, succinct. Mulder winced. Then, to
Scully, "So, do we dare risk a dance at a public function?"
Mulder had been aware that his superior and his
partner had been developing their friendship over the past
few months, and vaguely recalled a few lunches taken
together, but he was only now starting to put things together.
"I think we dare," Scully replied.
"Agent Mulder?" Emily Green's voice startled him back.
"Sorry. Lost in space there for a moment," he
apologized.
She smiled. "So, are you seeing anyone?"
"I—um—"
"I only ask because office gossip has shifted away from
you and Dana," she lowered her voice conspiratorially. At
his smile, she continued. "The secretarial pool still has
great hopes for you."
At this he smirked, "Well, hope springs eternal."
She laughed. "I suppose I sound like every other
married woman trying to pair up the poor unfortunate
unattached."
"I didn't realize you were married."
"Wow, you are out of the gossip loop, aren't you? I got
married about a year ago. He's not with the bureau, thank
god, although for as much as I see him, he might as well be.
He's a doctor."
"Nice, low-key profession."
"Yes, I'm learning that. Well, I'd better not monopolize
your time any more tonight. The vultures are starting to
circle."
"Help," he said weakly.
"You'll be fine, Mulder. Nothing compared to what
you've been up against this year."
I'm not so sure, he thought, as she walked away.
Drawing a deep breath, he turned around.
Alex was standing a few feet away from him. He was
dressed similarly to Mulder himself, a dark tux, white shirt,
but with no tie. It wasn't his outfit that drew Mulder towards
him, though—it was the look in his eyes. He looked lost.
"I shouldn't have come," he said, without looking at
Mulder.
"We can leave."
"No, you shouldn't. Scully was right, this is your night.
You should gloat a little. Get back at the bastards."
"I couldn't care less," he said. "If you want to leave, we
leave."
At this, Alex looked at him for the first time. He could
see the sincerity in Mulder's eyes and visibly relaxed. "I just
feel like any minute someone's going to put the cuffs on me
and hustle me away. 'Hide in plain sight' sort of thing."
"Except that you're not hiding anymore."
"I guess I'm just too used to it to get over it so fast." He
looked around. "I don't even think I know anyone here."
"I'm here, and Scully."
Alex smiled. "Yes, Scully. It's a revelation, isn't it?"
Mulder wasn't sure if he was talking about the outfit or
Skinner, but he agreed anyway. "There must be someone
else—"
At that, a hand came around and clapped Alex on the
back. "Alex, god, I can't believe you're here."
Alex was pulled into a hug by a big guy, solid, dark hair.
Donovan, Mulder thought to himself.
"Bren," Alex said, with a laugh, "I'm having trouble
breathing."
"Aw, sorry, Alex. It's just so good to see you. I was
expecting a visit sooner."
"Well, I've been somewhat low-profile for the last" two
years "little while." He turned to his side. "I'm sorry, Mulder,
do you know Brendan Donovan?"
"We met a couple of years ago at VC." He reached out
a hand. "Donovan."
"Of course everyone knows Fox Mulder. Amazing case
you're wrapping up. I'm looking forward to the trickle-down."
He turned back to Alex. "You look well, Alex. How are you
doing?"
"Can't complain," he said. "Life's gotten a whole lot
better, lately." He shot a quick glance at Mulder.
Deciding Alex was okay catching up with this old—
friend?—Mulder turned towards the dance floor. A few of the
"vultures" were indeed making broad circles around him,
and he decided to fan the gossip flames a little by cutting in
on Scully and Skinner.
"May I?"
"Certainly, Agent Mulder, if it's all right with the lady."
"I'd be honored."
Once they started to dance, Mulder said, "So, what's
with the new Scully this evening?"
"What do you mean, Mulder?"
"The clothes, the attitude, the date—"
"It's not a date," she protested.
"Not officially, maybe," he said, "but he's acting like a
date."
She smiled. "Well, I guess," she agreed. "I decided to
make my New Year's resolution early this year."
"And what is it?"
"To take more time for the things that are important. I
mean, the things we do, the work, the search, they're
important, but they're not the only things."
Mulder nodded.
"I can't remember the last time I had dinner with my
mother, for goodness' sake. And we're supposed to be
close. And as for Assistant Director Skinner—" Mulder
raised his eyebrows at that "we are just friends. For now."
They danced a little while longer in silence, and then
Scully said, "So, what's with the old Mulder?"
"What?"
"You know. I thought things were progressing between
you two. But this past week you've been tense and moody,
even for you." She looked over at Krycek. "Alex seems to
have found a friend."
Mulder glanced over, and then back, but she had
caught him. "Ha! That was a jealous look, if ever I saw one.
Mulder, Donovan's married—"
"And I'm straight, according to the grapevine. What
does that mean?"
"Why are you so worried? Has something happened?"
"No." Absolutely nothing, he thought.
"Ah," she said, perceptively. "Are you going to end it?"
It hasn't even begun yet. "I don't know."
"Mulder, I'm sorry. I wish I could give you some advice,
but I'm not much better than you at this stuff."
At least you're taking a chance. "It's okay, Scully.
I've cried on your shoulder enough about this. I can't get
anyone else to make this decision for me, no matter how
much I try."
"It'll be okay," she said, as they walked off the dance
floor. "As long as you do what you need. Trust your
instincts. I do."
They stayed at the party much longer than they had
intended. Brendan Donovan's approach to Krycek had
seemed to open a gate of old acquaintances who greeted
the redeemed former agent. Mulder, too, had been engaged
by a number of people anxious to talk shop, and a few
'vultures' braved a dance invitation, two of which he
accepted. The evening was a success.
Well, a qualified success, anyway. Having drank a bit
too much, Mulder decided to take advantage of the
evening's car service. He pulled Krycek into the back with
him.
Alex, too, was feeling no pain. He settled into a light
doze as soon as he hit the seat, so when the driver asked
for the address, Mulder just gave his own.
"C'mon, Krycek, time for bed."
"Promises, promises," Alex mumbled, and unsteadily
pulled himself out of the back of the car.
They made it into the apartment, and Alex weaved his
way to the bedroom before Mulder could even turn on a
light. He smiled when he realized that Alex knew the way
even in the dark. He followed him in to see if he needed
anything.
Alex had pulled off his jacket and collapsed on the bed.
Too much to drink, a late evening, and too much socializing
had taken its toll on him. Mulder reached over to pull off his
shoes and started undoing the shirt when Alex rolled over
and buried his face into the pillow. He was fast asleep.
"I hope that's not a rental," Mulder murmured. He was
going to leave, but instead sat on the edge of the bed. He
reached out a hand to touch Alex's back, surprised at the
heat that he felt. Alex was always a study in extremes,
temperature-wise, either he was an oven, or he was
freezing. There was no middle ground, except when they
slept together on the couch, and Mulder modulated him.
They complemented each other.
"I could have my way with you, you know," he
murmured, leaning over to place a kiss on Alex's neck.
"And you wouldn't even fight me off. So why don't I?"
With the unanswered question in the air, he snapped
off the bedside lamp and went out to the couch.
A smell of fresh coffee woke him the next morning, but he
didn't open his eyes right away. Alex was in the room with
him, he could sense him, and he played possum, wanting to
see what he would do. Slitting his eyes an imperceptible bit,
he watched.
He was sitting across from him, sipping some coffee,
flipping through, of all things, an old 'Lone Gunman'. The tv
was off. Mulder had fallen asleep to it, as usual, and Alex
must have shut it off when he got up. He was showered—
his hair still wet—shaved, and dressed in some of Mulder's
casual clothes—a pair of jeans that were just a little too long
and tight for him and a t-shirt. Mulder vaguely wondered
what time it was.
After about ten minutes, Alex had finished his coffee
and went into the kitchen. When he came back in, he took a
long look at Mulder, then strode into the bedroom, coming
out with his tux on a hanger and a borrowed jacket in his
hands. When he leaned over Mulder for a goodbye kiss, the
prone man unexpectedly grabbed his wrist and pulled him
down on the couch. The jacket and tux slid to the floor.
"How long have you been awake?" Alex asked, a little
breathless.
"Little while," Mulder mumbled into his ear.
Alex pulled back, a strange look on his face. "I'm not
sure if that means you don't trust me, or you do."
Mulder was silent. Alex reached down for the dropped
clothes and attempted to pull himself off the couch.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. Gotta drop this thing off," he said, indicating
the tux, "and change. I'll bring these back tomorrow, I
guess."
"You've got something planned for today?" It was
Saturday, no work, and they usually did something together
- a movie, something on tv, the gym, or lunch out
somewhere.
"Bren—Donovan," Alex quickly amended, "he invited
me over for dinner. Meet the wife sort of thing. It seemed
like such a normal, suburban type thing to do that I said
yes."
"Ah," Mulder said. "'Bren.'"
"Do you want to ask me something, Mulder?" Alex
asked, suddenly tense. "I kept getting these strange looks
from you all night, and now this. What do you want to
know?"
"What do you want to tell me?"
"Brendan Donovan has been a friend of mine since
high school. Just a friend, but a good one. He told me last
night that he knew that the charges against me were false,
but, of course, he couldn't get a hold of me to help." He
paused, then said, "Now, would you like a list of the people
that I'm sleeping with? Alphabetical? Chronological? By
gender? What?"
Mulder was struck by the question, then he realized
that he knew that Alex wasn't sleeping with anyone—he
recognized the sexual tension every time they were
anywhere near each other. It wasn't just desire they both
felt, it was frustration. It had been a long time, for both of
them.
He was about to apologize when Alex collapsed on the
floor in a heap. His head in his hands, he mumbled, "I am
so tired, Mulder. I've been running for such a long time that
I didn't think I could stop. But I have stopped, and now, I
don't know what's going on here. I know this isn't easy for
you—I know you don't have any experience with men—
maybe I should just go. Maybe we shouldn't see each other
any more. I mean, I'm willing to wait as long as you need,
but if it's just hurting both of us maybe we should just stop."
"No," Mulder said. "No. This is my problem—"
"It involves both of us. Don't keep shutting me out."
He sighed. "I'm not used to this Alex, it's true, but it's
not just that I've never been with a guy before—although that
is big—but I've never been good at relationships with
anyone. The best union I've ever managed has been with
Scully—"
"I always wondered about you two."
"You know we're just friends."
"Yeah, but, didn't you ever just wonder?"
"Yeah. Maybe, if the timing had been better, or if we
weren't working together, or if I hadn't fallen in love with you
—"
Alex gasped. He had known, he recognized it in
Mulder at almost the same time he realized it in himself, but
he was almost certain that he'd never hear the words
coming out of the man in front of him. He felt tears start in
his eyes and looked down, trying to blink them away.
Mulder cupped his chin and raised the face until their
eyes were level. "We have to stop hiding from each other,
Alex. I love you. I want to be with you. Stay." He
swallowed, hard. "Please."
With a strangled cry and tears he couldn't stop, Alex
pushed himself onto the couch, into Mulder's arms. "Shh,
it's okay, we're okay," he could hear whispered over and
over, but he couldn't stop trembling. "You are exhausted,
Alex. Let me take you to bed."
"No," Alex protested, "I want to be with you."
"You will be," Mulder assured him. "Come on."
They slowly made their way into the bedroom, clinging
desperately to each other. They peeled away their clothes,
leaving only the underwear, and slid into the bed, holding
each other.
"God, I want to touch you," Alex whispered.
"Later," Mulder said, stilling his movements. "You need
to sleep now. We have lots of time."
And, curled up in the bed together, they both slept.
When Mulder awoke, it was late afternoon. The winter sky
peeking through the blinds was showing a rapidly darkening
gray. He looked down to the man cradled in his arms and
smiled. "How long have you been awake?"
"Little while."
"Does that mean—"
"That means that I absolutely trust you," Alex
reassured him. "And it means that you are beautiful when
you're asleep. I hardly ever get to see that."
Mulder was about to return the compliment when Alex
suddenly pulled out of his arms and the bed. He raced out
of the room muttering "Shitshitshit" under his breath.
Curious, he followed him out of the room to find him
running through the pockets of his discarded tux, still on the
floor. "Ah," he said, pulling out a crumpled napkin. "Phone,
please."
Mystified, Mulder gave him the cell phone. The phone
call put him at ease.
"Bren? It's Alex. I'm sorry, I completely lost track of
time—No, no, don't hold dinner for me—Bren, I'm going to
have to take a raincheck—I'm sorry, something's come up"
Mulder snorted, and Alex leered at him "and I'm going to
have to—What? Yeah, something like that—Oh, next
weekend would be great, I promise—Okay, I'll call you on
Thursday, okay, and firm it up? Great, great, apologize to
Susan for me, okay—Thanks, Bren, bye."
"Something like what?" Mulder asked.
"I told Bren that I was sort of seeing someone last night
- he's been fixing me up ever since he got his first serious
girlfriend. What is it with people who are involved, anyway?
They can't seem to leave everyone else alone."
Mulder smiled at that. "I don't know, misery loves
company?"
"Probably," Alex agreed. "Anyway, I wanted to
dissuade him from trying it again. I can't believe that I
almost forgot about dinner."
"Well," Mulder said, "we were kind of involved."
Alex blushed at that. "Do you realize," he said, getting
up and walking over to Mulder, "that ever since you told me
that you love me, we haven't even kissed?"
"We haven't?" Alex shook his head. "Well, we'd
better, hadn't we? Make things official."
With that, Mulder wrapped his arms around Alex's waist
and drew him close. They closed the distance between their
mouths with a deep, passionate kiss. When they drew back
and had caught their breath, Mulder asked, with a
deceptively straight face, "So, what do you want to do now?"
Trying to hide crushing disappointment and failing
miserably, Alex replied, "Uh, well, I don't know. You?"
"I think that I want to take you into the bedroom and
make love to you. How does that sound?"
"You are a cruel man, Fox Mulder. Don't ever scare
me like that again."
"I promise," Mulder agreed. They stood there
awkwardly for a moment, and then Alex shivered. Mulder
realized that they were standing in the middle of the
apartment in just their underwear. Taking a deep breath, he
took Alex's hand and led him back into the bedroom. He
started for the bed, but Alex stayed in the doorway.
"Honestly, Mulder, we don't have to do this yet, if you're
not ready."
"You don't want to?"
"Are you kidding? After six weeks of drooling over you
and having an exclusive relationship with the Palm sisters
every night?" Mulder laughed out loud, and Alex did, too,
joining him to sit on the bed. "Are you sure?" he asked,
after a minute.
"I'm sure."
The look in his eyes was so naked and honest, as if he
had just realized that he did want this, that Alex had to look
away. He turned to close the blinds, then turned on the
bedside lamp.
"What—" Mulder asked, indicating the light.
"I want to see you. All of you." And with that, he came
back over to Mulder's side and pulled him down on the bed.
They were facing each other, stroking each other's chests,
arms, a cheek, a thigh, and all the while kissing so deeply
that Alex though he'd come in his underwear. "Whoa," he
said, pulling back, "this is a little too fast."
"We have all night," Mulder teased, nuzzling his
earlobe. "We can do it again, if we like it."
"If? Damn, Mulder, I'm at least going to be naked
before I come. And so are you." He quickly shed his
underwear, then reached down for the other man's
waistband and pulled the boxers off him. The urgent
erection that had been pressing against him was freed.
Christ, it was beautiful, and big—the biggest one he'd yet
encountered. This was going to be fun.
He hadn't realized he had gasped until Mulder pulled
him up for another kiss. "You okay?" he asked.
"I'm more than okay," Alex asked, then slid his tongue
down the other man's chest, pushing him back onto the bed
as he did so. He pushed himself down until he was faced
with that gorgeous penis, waiting for him, and engulfed it
with his mouth. He felt the immediate tension of Mulder
losing control, and pulled back. He smiled at his "Jesus"
delivered through clenched teeth, and paused, considering.
Making a decision, he wet two fingers in his mouth and then
slid back onto Mulder, taking him deep in his throat.
Reaching around with his hand, he plunged the two wet
fingers deep into Mulder's tight ass, pushing hard. He came
in a torrent, barely muffling a scream, hands desperately
twisted into the sheets. He gushed into Alex's waiting
mouth, his complete release and the friction of the mattress
triggering Alex's own climax.
Finally sated, Alex reluctantly pulled himself off of
Mulder, pulling his fingers out of him and kissing his relaxing
penis. He rolled off and collapsed beside him on the bed.
The only sound to be heard was their laboured breathing.
"My god, Alex—
"I've waited such a long time—"
They both spoke at the same time, stopped, and
started again. With a laugh, Mulder pulled him up closer,
and brought the blanket up around him. Alex tried to pull
away, unsuccessfully.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Just to get a towel. I came all over the bed, and your
leg, and—"
"Leave it. I think the bed's going to get a whole lot
messier before this night is over, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so," Alex's voice was husky, and he
relaxed back into Mulder's arms.
Needing desperately to taste him, Mulder pushed Alex
onto his back and loomed over him. He couldn't even wait
to let the man rest, and he realized with a start that he was
getting aroused again, just looking at him. His beautiful
eyes, and that mouth—relaxed, soft—the damp, tousled hair
- he was transfixed. He brought his mouth gently down to
Alex's, plunging in deeply, claiming it as his. "You're mine,
you know," he said, when he had the strength to draw away.
"I know," Alex nodded. "Completely yours." Suddenly
overcome with an unaccustomed shyness, he looked away.
"Anything you want, Mulder—I'll do anything."
"I want to feel you, all of you. I want to be in you.
Now."
Mutely, Alex, stared at him, reaching to stroke his
nipples. Rising up for another kiss, he wordlessly gave his
permission. "Do you, uh, have any lubricant?"
"Damn, I don't think so."
"Don't worry. I'll find something." Alex did pull away
then, and Mulder stared at him, at the strong, muscled back,
and then lower, to the unbelievably arousing sight of the
naked curve of his ass.
"Perfect," he called, coming out of the bathroom with a
little bottle of massage oil, a couple of towels, and a smile
on his face.
"I forgot all about that. I don't even know why I kept it.
It was a sample in the mail."
"You must have known you'd have a use for it,
someday." Alex handed the bottle over to him, and climbed
back into the bed. "How do you want me?" he asked.
"I have no idea," Mulder said, when actually faced with
the reality of his request.
"I'll decide, then. I think I want to be on my back in
front of you. That way I can see you when you come inside
me."
"God, Alex—"
"Shh," he shushed him with a kiss. "I want it, too. No
more breaking your promises."
"You'll have to help me out here, Alex. I don't want to
hurt you."
"I know that you'd never hurt me on purpose, Fox."
Mulder's eyes glowed green at the mention of his name, but
he liked it. Coming from Alex, here, now, it was a caress.
He kissed him. "Lucky for us both, I'm not a virgin.
Otherwise," he reached for Mulder's swelling erection, "I
don't think we'd be able to do this the first time."
"Well, I am a virgin, at least when it comes to this.
What do I do?"
"Use a lot of the oil, on you and on me. Then, well, go
slow, at the beginning. I'll let you know if you're doing it
right." He reached around and pushed the pillows together
at the head of the bed, then leaned back against them. He
beckoned Mulder closer with his hands, grasping him and
pulling him in for a kiss, then snaked his legs around the
agent's slim waist. Mulder fumbled with the oil bottle, then
steadied himself and poured a generous amount into his
hands, slicking the warming liquid over his almost painful
erection. He thrust first one finger, then two into Alex's
impossibly small opening, feeling him stretch to
accommodate the invading digits.
Lost in the vision of his hand inside Alex, he was
startled to hear his voice.
"Mulder? Are you all right?"
"Sorry," he shook his head, as if clearing his brain. "I'm
just losing myself in all of this."
"Good. Now how about losing yourself in me?"
It was all the invitation he needed. Slowly, carefully,
and not a little afraid, he pushed gently against the small
hole. The head slipped inside, and he paused. Seeing
Alex's encouraging smile, he started to push, a little at a
time, until he was completely inside. Then he collapsed on
top of Alex, giving their bodies a chance to accommodate
each other. His head was on Alex's chest, and he could
hear the reassuring, quick thrum of his accelerated
heartbeat.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.
"You feel wonderful," Alex breathed, "keep going."
The familiar rhythm started then, not so different from
what he'd experienced before, with women, but somehow
startlingly different. Alex was so warm, so responsive, his
moans, his hands, egging him on further, faster. He
brushed away Alex's hands at his own erection and settled
into a rhythm himself, intent on staving off his own release
until after Alex was satisfied. The rhythm was reassuringly
familiar, relying on what he himself enjoyed, and he felt, and
saw, the pleasure he was giving Alex. His eyes were
closed, he was panting, but there was no sign of pain on his
face—just unbelievable delight, joy, happiness. Suddenly
Mulder stopped, and leaned forward, lying atop the prone
man.
"What?" Alex asked, eyes wide with concern.
"You said you wanted to see me when I come in you.
You'd better keep your eyes open." He plunged his tongue
into Alex's mouth again, biting the already swollen lips.
"Absolutely."
Mulder pulled back, then, and resumed stroking Alex
and pushing inside him. Gentleness was forgotten in the
heat of their lust, and he knew that it wouldn't be long. He
couldn't care anymore if he was hurting him, he just had to
push, harder, faster—
Alex came with a cry, spurting his semen over his
stomach, his chest. The tightness around Mulder's cock
was too much, then, and he felt his climax being forcibly
wrenched from his body. He couldn't remember ever
coming so much, especially not the second time in such a
short period.
He pulled out, sated, feeling completely boneless, and
rolled over at Alex's side. He couldn't open his eyes, he
couldn't even seem to breathe, and all he wanted to do was
just lie there forever, not moving, not thinking.
Finally, he opened his eyes when he heard a small sound
coming from beside him. Alex was crying.
"Alex? God, I hurt you, I'm so sorry, Alex, please—"
"No," Alex said. "You didn't hurt me."
"What then?"
"Hold me." It was almost a question, instead of a
request. He immediately pulled Alex deep into his arms,
feeling the stickiness of his semen join their bodies together.
Alex continued to cry for a few minutes, and Mulder felt
completely helpless.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. It was just so—"
"Wild, I know, Alex. I'm sorry. I just lost myself in you,
like you said. I couldn't control what I was doing. I just
wanted to feel more and more of you around me, and I
couldn't—"
A warm mouth surrounded his, cutting off his apology
mid-stream. "Fox," the caress was there again. "You said
you were lost inside me. Well, having you there was the first
time that I can remember feeling completely safe, and
warm, and real in years. Maybe ever."
"And that's the reason for the tears?"
"I just don't know what I'll ever do when you're gone."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"It's just going to be so hard, you don't know, you've
never had to do it before. I have, I know."
"So we get through it together."
"I want to believe that."
Mulder laughed. Alex looked at him, puzzled, then
rolled his eyes and hit him with a pillow. "Aliens would be
easier, you know."
"Maybe," he said with a grin, and then, more soberly, "I
don't know what's going to happen to us, Alex. All I know is
that I love you and I want to be with you. And I want that to
be enough for you. I don't want to hide and I don't want to
feel guilty, and, frankly, I don't even want to think about all
the bad stuff right now." Alex looked at him in amazement.
"Hey, can't 'Spooky' take the night off and let Fox out to
play?"
"Definitely. It's great to see him." Relaxing against
Mulder's chest, he asked, "So, what do you want to think
about?"
"Dinner. I'm starved."
"Mulder!"
"Well, admit it, aren't you the least bit hungry?" Alex
raised an eyebrow lewdly, but Mulder just groaned. "C'mon,
now, neither one of us is seventeen. Three times in a row
would be pushing into Guinness territory."
"Okay, but I hope you don't want to go out somewhere,
'cause I don't think I can handle dressing tonight."
"No, take-out is fine with me."
They decided on Chinese and called in a huge order. It
would take forty-five minutes to arrive.
They were heating up the shower when Mulder heard his cell
phone ring. Reluctantly pulling himself from Alex's embrace,
he went to answer it.
"Mulder."
"Hi, Mulder, it's just me," Scully's voice answered him.
"Oh, damn, it's not work, is it?"
"It's good to hear from you, too, Mulder."
"I'm sorry, Scully. How are you?"
"I'm fine, Mulder, how are you?"
"Fine." Pause. "It's not work, is it?"
She snorted. "No. I was just concerned. I didn't want
you to mope around your apartment all weekend, and I
wondered if you wanted to get something to eat?"
"Well, actually, Scully—I, I'm a little tied up at the
moment."
"Handcuffs or rope?"
"Scully!" He was too flustered to even make one of his
rude comments.
"I'm kidding, Mulder. Still, I assume that you've got
your situation, um, well in hand?"
"You're stealing all my best lines, Scully."
"What can I say, I've been taking notes."
"I knew you weren't writing reports the entire time you
sit at your computer. You realize that I'm going to have to
hack in, now, don't you?"
"As if you could. My personal security measures
include a burly guy named Vinnie who comes out and
breaks the kneecaps of anyone who even turns on my
computer."
"Vinnie, huh? I thought his first name was Wal—"
"Don't go there, Mulder."
Even her 'stern voice' over the phone made him
behave. "Yes, ma'am."
"Now, be a good boy and go keep Alex company. And,
Mulder?"
"Yes?"
"Are you happy?"
"Yes, I am," he said, with an enormous sigh of relief.
"Good. Tell Alex that if he ever hurts you I will
personally kick his butt."
"That'll scare the hell out of him."
"That's the point. 'Night, Mulder."
"'Night, Scully. Thanks."
The shower spray was warm when he stepped in and
wrapped his arms around Alex's waist, sighing against his
back.
"It wasn't work, was it?"
"No," he smiled. "Just Scully, checking up."
"Oh," Alex said. "Did you tell her about us?"
"Yeah," Mulder answered, then turned him around.
"That was okay, wasn't it? I mean, I didn't even ask you if
you wanted to tell people, but she's known that we've been
getting closer, and I just thought—or didn't think—"
He was cut off by warm lips against his own. "It's
great. We can spray paint it on the side of the Hoover
building if you want to."
"Can we really?" Wheels were turning, and Alex looked
worried. "Bright pink?"
"Bad Mulder! No! Promise me!"
"Okay, okay. God, I wonder what my mother's going to
say."
"She'll hate it?"
"I have no idea. We may never find out. She tends to
be pretty closed-mouthed and unemotional."
"Gee, are you sure you aren't adopted?"
"Funny. You can't say I've been unemotional lately. Or
closed-mouthed, either."
"No," Alex agreed. "I like it. You should do it more
often."
Somehow, they managed to finish their shower cleaner than
when they started. Mulder tossed sweats over for Alex to
wear, and pulled some loose jeans and a light sweater on
himself. They surveyed the damage done to the bed,
stripped it down and remade it for that night. Then they
wandered into the living room, collapsed on the couch in
each other's arms. Mulder flipped the tv to a basketball
game, but they were soon more engrossed in each other
than in anything on the screen.
The buzz of the door startled them like a couple of kids
caught by their parents, but they both laughed when they
realized that it was just their food.
"I can't believe we actually ordered all of this."
"Hell, after the day we've had, I could eat all of this
myself."
"Just a growing boy, eh, Mulder?" Alex said, wickedly,
reaching around to pat him on the stomach. "What did you
do for exercise before I came along?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Chasing bad guys,
researching aliens, toppling shadow governments—"
"Takes a lot out of a guy."
"Nothing that a good dinner can't make up for." Alex
was looking at him like he was an alien himself. "What?"
"I'm just amazed at the Fox Mulder that I'm getting to
know. Where have you been hiding him? Wait a minute."
With mock-concern, he turned Mulder around and pulled the
neck of his shirt down in the back. After a moment's
scrutiny, he let him go.
"Are you convinced?"
"Well, not really. I could just be dreaming all of this
and wake up in the morning in the silo again."
"No, you won't. Let me prove it to you." With that, he
tackled Alex and they ended up on the floor together in a
heap. He covered Alex's body completely, and pinned and
helpless, he started to make love to him again.
"Mulder—"
"Alex, I love you. You're here, we're both awake, now
decide—what do you want? Me or the spring rolls?"
"Um, both?"
"Good choice."
"No!"
Mulder was somewhat used to being awakened in the
middle of the night by a nightmare. This time, however, it
wasn't his own.
"Alex? Alex, wake up, it's okay, it's just me, you're
safe, I'm here..."
It was difficult, but he managed to wake the man at his
side. Alex looked wild-eyed and terrified, a scared boy
chasing monsters that weren't real anymore.
"What was it about?"
"What it's always about. I'm running, I'm cold, I can't
get warm, I can't stop. The usual."
"Damn." Instinct made him draw Alex even closer into
his arms. "Between the two of us, we should be world
experts on nightmares. I wish I knew what to do for you."
"You do. You're doing it." Alex was almost breathing
normally again. "Do you ever think we'll actually get to lead
a normal life ever again?"
"I don't know. What's normal?"
"Good point. I'm pretty sure most of the world wouldn't
think that this particular scene" he indicated Mulder and
himself "exactly constituted 'normal.'"
"Screw 'em."
"Uh-unh. I'm too tired." He yawned, and Mulder could
feel him relaxing back into sleep. "Maybe later."
The next morning Mulder was awakened not by Alex, but a
call from Scully. Instead of good wishes, however, this time
it was work.
"Minnesota. When's the flight?"
"About three hours. Do you want me to pick you up,
or—"
"No," he looked at the bedroom door. He could make
out Alex's leg across the bed. "I'll get a ride."
"I'm on my way to the office to pick up the files. You
stay there and just meet me at the airport."
"Are you sure? I could come in now."
"Say good-bye, Mulder. You can read everything on
the plane just as easily."
"Thanks, Scully."
"'Bye, Mulder."
"'Bye."
He walked back into the bedroom. Alex's eyes were
open. "Minnesota?" he asked.
"This time it is work. I'm sorry. There's three deaths
they think are attributable to a commune worshipping some
sort of sun god—"
"Say no more. I guess I'll have to get used to this, eh?
Being an F.B.I. widow." He sat up and swung his legs over
the edge of the bed. "I am going to have to get used to
this, aren't I?"
"Absolutely. Alex—" the rest of his words were cut off
by a kiss.
"Mmmh?" Alex was attempting to push him back down
on the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Um, how can I put this? I'm attempting to have
intimate sexual knowledge, with your permission, of course,
of your person. Is that graphic enough?"
"I have to leave soon. Do we have enough time?"
"I can go as fast, or as slow, as you need. You have
no idea what you're in for."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Forty-five minutes later, Mulder was stepping out of the
shower. Alex lay sprawled across the bed. "Are you going
to stay in bed today?"
"Mm-hmm. I want this picture to haunt you for the
entire time you're away."
"I'll never be able to get any work done."
"Maybe they'll fire you for incompetence." Alex's eyes
gleamed at the suggestion.
"There's a thought."
"Nah, that'll never work. They'll just send you for
counselling, and then you'll have to confess all the erotic
dreams you're having about me, and then they won't know
what to do with you."
"They might commit me. Sexual compulsion."
"Has it been a problem before?"
Mulder laughed. "Hardly." He made a face. "Although
I was warned of the dangers of too much experimentation."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"Someone suggested my death would involve
auto-erotic asphyxiation."
"Whoa." A pause, then, "Who, exactly?"
"It's not important. Just something to keep in mind."
"I don't think I'll be able to think of anything else."
Two days later, Alex answered the phone. Three am. Of
course.
"Hello?"
"What are you wearing?"
"Mulder?"
"Who else calls you up at three am to ask you what
you're wearing?"
"I'll fax you the list in the morning."
"Thanks." Pause. "So?"
"So what?"
"What are you wearing?"
A laugh. "Well, at the moment, I'm not wearing
anything."
"Oh, god."
"You asked. Just me and the covers. You?"
"A pair of jeans that are becoming tighter by the
minute."
"That's it?"
"Uh-huh." Pause. "I miss you."
"Good."
"Good?"
"Well, it's better to be missed than not to be missed."
"True. It's much better to be there in person, though."
"Definitely. How's the case going?"
"It doesn't seem to be turning into anything, actually.
Just a bunch of hyperactive teenagers."
"Does that mean you'll be coming home soon?"
"Well, if all goes as I expect, we should be back in D.C.
tomorrow night."
"Well, that was a lot better than I expected."
"Me, too. I wish we hadn't come in the first place."
"That goes without saying."
Another pause. "Alex—"
"What is it?"
"Would you—I meant to ask you before I left, but we
really didn't have a chance to talk—but, well, would you mind
—"
"What, Mulder?"
"Moving back into my place. I know it seems soon, but
I'd really like you to be there when I get in. I need to see
you. I want to know where you are. I—"
"Okay."
Mulder laughed. "I will never get used to that."
"To what?"
"I sweat over asking you things, about telling you
things, and you just accept them, and me, at face value."
"I love you. You don't have to worry about stuff like
that. Chances are, I feel the same way you do. I want to be
there when you get in."
"It could be late."
"I'll wait."
"I love you."
"I know. I'll be waiting."
Twenty hours later, Mulder's flight got in, two hours late. He
was practically out of the plane before it touched down.
Everything he needed was in his carry-on bag. He looked
expectantly at Scully.
"Mulder, for goodness' sake, get out of here. You're
making me anxious. I've never seen you so wired. I thought
you were going to offer to fly the plane yourself."
"I would have, if it would've got us off on time. I hate
delays."
"Just go. I'll get my bag and get a cab. I'll see you at
work in the morning."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." She smiled. "Go, have fun." She called out to
his retreating form, "Say hi to Alex for me."
He waved his reply, not turning around.
The cab ride took forever. Bounding up the stairs, key in the
lock, and—silence. He turned the lights on, called out, but—
nothing. No one was there.
Fighting down his disappointment, Mulder took his bag
into the bedroom. The bed was neat, there was no sign of
Alex anywhere. Pulling open the closet, he was
momentarily heartened to see a few of Alex's clothes on the
hangers. Still, where was he?
He called his old apartment, but there was no answer.
It was too late, but he took a chance and dialed Brendan
Donovan.
"'lo," Donovan answered sleepily.
"Donovan? It's Fox Mulder, sorry to call so late, but I
was wondering—do you know where Alex is?"
"Alex? No, sorry, I don't. Is something wrong?"
"No, no, nothing like that. We—he—I was supposed to
see him, and I can't find him, that's all. I guess we just got
our wires crossed."
"Probably. I was talking to him this afternoon, and he
said he was going to set up some sort of a surprise, maybe
he got caught up doing that."
"Yeah, I guess so. I'll probably catch up with him
tomorrow. Sorry again."
"It's okay, Mulder. Let me know if anything's wrong,
okay?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm sure there isn't anything, though.
'Bye."
"'Bye."
Half an hour later, Mulder was showered and in sweats and
a t-shirt, flipping channels. He was startled by a key
scraping the lock, but when it opened, it was Alex.
"Here you are."
"Where were you?"
"At the airport. I went to meet your flight, then you
were delayed. They said it was going to be an hour, then
another, then another, and by the time I got to the right gate,
you were in and gone. I met Scully in baggage claim and
she told me you had left already. I was going to surprise
you."
"Damn, I'm sorry, Alex."
"It's not your fault. I should know better than to trust
the airlines."
"You and me both. I felt like I'd be here sooner if I'd've
walked. By the time we finally got going, I was about to."
"Scully told me."
"It's so good to see you. And," he said, kissing Alex
deeply, "even better to feel you."
"Mmm," Alex moaned, deep in his arms, "more."
"And more, and more, and more."
"You know what I want?"
"I have a few ideas."
"I'll bet you do." A nuzzle cut off his next words.
"What?"
"You're distracting me."
"That was pretty much the idea."
"How, exactly, did you manage to survive the last few
years without a steady sexual outlet?"
"What makes you think I didn't have a steady sexual
outlet?"
"Ah," Alex said, turning around to kiss Mulder, "so you
were ravaging Scully in the basement all that time. I'm
jealous."
"Of me, or her?"
"Hmm..."
"Alex?"
"What?"
"You never told me what you want."
"I'm still distracted."
"Sorry."
"Unh-huh. This is good distracted. I could kiss you
forever. You have great lips."
"I've never been told that before."
Alex looked at him incredulously. "Oh, come on."
"What?"
"That is undoubtedly your second best feature."
"Really? What's first?"
"These," he said, reaching across the nightstand and
snagging an object.
"My glasses?"
"Oh yes, definitely. There's just something about a
man in glasses. Yum."
"I'm not sure what I think about this conversation."
"Mull it over and let me know."
A few more kisses later, Alex asked, "So?"
"Jury's still out." Another kiss. "All right, I can live with
that. So, what do you want?"
"Wear the glasses."
Alex
by Mona Ramsey
The tv flickered, something innocuous, something for three
in the morning. Flowbee, probably, or make thousands in
your spare time. He never watched that.
