Part Three
Mulder fished his out of his jacket and held it out. "Here."
Uncharacteristically, he refrained from further speech.
Alex mumbled his thanks as he dialled, pacing the length of the dining room.
The call was finally answered at the other end. "Rico, it's me. Yes , I
just now...well, I didn't know ...do NOT tell me to calm down...I'm at a
friend's house...just tell me where ...fuck. How sure are you it's him?
Yeah... All right . Listen, I've got to go. I need to get some cash for
the trip, the bank's gonna close...are you insane? Jesus, I never thought
I'd hear the letters A, T, and M come out of your mouth...I know...No, I'm
driving...because I don't like airports anymore...Okay, here, talk to
Mulder... Yes , your Mulder, how the hell many Mulders do I know?" He
tossed the phone to Mulder and said "Back in half an hour," as he headed out
the door.
Mulder stared at the closing door, then at the phone in his hand. It was
squawking his name, so he carefully put it to his ear. //Who do I know
named Rico?// "Hello?"
He was surprised to hear a familiar voice. "Mulder? What the hell are you
doing there?"
"Langly?" //Langly is Rico. Langly knows Alex is alive . What next?//
"Langly, please tell me what is going on here. Wait—do Byers and Frohike
know about Alex?"
"No, nobody else; just me and now you, I guess. Mulder, how did you find
out? Dude, is Scully there? This is so bad."
"Scully doesn't know, she and I parted ways yesterday and Alex picked me up
on the side of the highway. Now... WHAT IS GOING ON?"
He heard a sigh from the other end of the phone line. "It's really Alex's
story, Mulder. I can't—"
"He told you to talk to me. Talk."
"Dude, I've known you a long time. But Alex and I go back even further. And
this is his story, to tell or not as he chooses. Tell him I'm emailing
all the info I found. He can call back if he needs anything else. And
Mulder—do NOT tell anyone else that Alex is still alive. Or he won't be.
And then I will come after you myself."
Mulder was shocked into silence. This was not the Langly he knew. This was
not the highly intelligent but totally geeky flake who balanced so well with
Byers' calm good nature and Frohike's surly cynicism. This person actually
sounded like he might be a threat to Mulder's continued good health if he
was crossed. //Do I really know who anybody is?//
"Mulder? Did you get that?"
"Yeah, Langly, I got it. Uh—don't worry about it."
" 'Kay. Later, dude." And the call was disconnected.
Mulder came back to himself after a moment and found his hostess staring at
him. "What's going on?" he asked helplessly, not really expecting an
answer anymore, but unable to keep from asking the question.
Debbie frowned. "Fox, it's really not something I feel like I can tell you.
It's bad enough that I slipped up earlier. If Alex wants you to know,
he'll tell you. I'm sorry, but—" she broke off and considered him
carefully. "How many people do you trust, Fox? Really trust, with your
life ?"
"Scully, the Gunmen and I guess Alex, now. Five."
"Well, as far as I know, for Alex the answer to that would be two. Me, and
this Rico guy. Rico gives him information, and I give him a place to come
home to. And we both give him our silence. He's never asked for much from
me, and I can't take anything away from him. When he gets back, you can ask
him to explain. Just trust me on this one, Fox. It's very painful for
Alex to talk about, so don't push too much. But it's very important to him.
"Can you—if he tells you what it's all about, can you go with him? He
won't ask you to go with him. He might say he doesn't want you to. But
he needs you."
Mulder smiled at this. After recent events, he was even more sure that
Alex Krycek could take care of himself, regardless of the number of arms he
possessed. "He won't thank you for that, you know. He doesn't need my
protection at all."
"I'm not worried about that. I know he can take care of himself in a fight.
But he'll try to drive straight through to Wyoming; he'll forget to eat;
he's just not thinking straight right now. He needs someone to insist on
stopping after eight hours of driving to get some sleep. He needs someone
to make him eat lunch. And he needs someone to talk to, so he doesn't have
to think so much. Can you do it? Will you?"
"I don't have much experience being the voice of reason. But if he wants me
along, I'll go."
"Good. I'll go dig his stuff out from the storage closet. He'll probably
need some of it."
As Debbie went upstairs, Mulder suddenly realized he hadn't yet called
Scully. //Dana,// he reminded himself. // She wants me to call her
Dana .// He dialed her new home number and listened to the ringing.
//Should have thought of a cover story before I dialed. Damn, I'm not too
good at this covert stuff yet. Maybe Alex can give me some lessons.//
A sleepy baritone voice intruded into his thoughts. "Hello?"
//Shit. Of course it had to be him. It's his house .// "Uh, good
morning, s—Walter. Is Dana there?"
"Who is this?"
"It's me. Mulder."
"Oh. Sorry, you just never—wait, I'll get her."
Klunk of phone on table, rustling of sheets, footsteps. //Damn. I think I
woke him up. // He heard Skinner's voice, faintly. "Dana? It's Mulder. I
think."
Then he heard an extension picked up. "Mulder? Where are you?"
//Normal, normal, everything's fine...// "Hi, Dana. I hope I didn't wake
Walter up."
"No, he was up all night with the baby, and—Mulder, are you all right?
Is there someone listening? Oh God, have you been kidnapped?"
Mulder was stuck on a new mental picture of Skinner—walking the floor
with a colicky infant, singing softly—or maybe a boot camp drill cadence?
"I don't know but I've been told..." He mentally slapped himself and
reviewed the conversation. Kidnapped?
"No, I'm fine. What are you talking about?"
"You called me Dana. You called him Walter ."
"Didn't you ask me to?"
"Yes, months ago, Mulder. And you never did. So I gave up. Never mind.
Are you home? I'm sorry about last night, Mulder. I guess I wasn't really
ready to go out in the field yet. I was just worried about leaving the baby
like that, and it kind of spilled over onto you. Can you come over for
dinner? Walt's making his world-famous chili."
//Think fast, Oxford-boy.// "I'm not home, Scully. I'm still in
Connecticut. I just talked to Langly, and he needs me to do something for
him in New Hampshire. I don't know when I'll be back, really. Could be two
weeks or more."
Her voice was cool. "Okay, that's fine."
"Really, Sc—Dana. I'm not upset about last night. In fact, I should be
apologizing to you. I'm so sorry, Dana. I really haven't been myself
lately. You had every reason in the world to be pissed off at me. You
probably should have done something like that years ago."
"Yeah, well, you never let me drive." But her voice sounded amused now. It
would be okay between them again. It could never be the same , but that
was okay, too. Everything has to change to stay alive, even friendships.
Mulder ended the call with a promise to be in touch when he could and a kiss
for the baby.
When Alex finally walked in the door forty-five minutes later, Mulder was
watching CNN again, but he shut it off quickly. He had been trying to plan
what to ask, how to approach the situation so it didn't seem like an
interrogation. He still had no good ideas, but it was showtime. As he
watched Alex walk warily into the room, he realized what he needed to do.
"Langly said he would email the rest of what you needed."
"Okay, thanks. I'll go look at it. Where's Deb?"
"She went to make lunch. Something about making sure you get a decent meal
for a change."
"Yeah, that's my Deb. So...?"
Mulder just waited.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "No interrogation? No 'Twenty Questions'? Could I
check the back of your neck, please?"
Mulder patted the couch next to him, and waited for Alex to sit down. Then
he said, "You can tell me what you want to, Alex. I won't deny that I'm
curious. It's really very hard for me not to ask you what the hell is
going on. But the only two people you seem to trust in this world have both
told me that it's your decision what you want me to know, and I'm going to
respect that. I called Scully and made up a story about going to New
Hampshire for a week or two to look into something for Langly. I'd like to
go with you, wherever you're going. You promised me a road trip, remember?
But it's up to you."
Alex's eyes searched Mulder's as he tried to take in this new facet of his
personality. He said, slowly, "You didn't tell Scully where you were?"
Mulder chuckled. "Hell, no, Langly threatened my very existence if I
breathed a word to anybody. But I'd already figured out that I need to keep
it a secret. I realize I have no right to ask for your trust, Alex, after
the way I've mistreated you over the years. But I'm hoping to earn it
someday."
Just then, Debbie bustled in to announce that lunch was ready. Alex made
some noises about needing to check the email from Langly, but he was
overruled by the simple expedient of Mulder grabbing his hand and pulling
him into the kitchen. Debbie served them their lunch, and then left to run
some errands.
As they ate and talked of generalities, Alex slowly relaxed. Mulder was
truly not going to hound him about this. That actually made it much harder.
//I told him I wouldn't lie to him any more, why doesn't he just ask me
what he wants to know? I mean, I want to tell him, but I don't know how.
Well, if I start talking, I'm sure he won't be able to resist digging.//
"Okay, Mulder, I'm very impressed with your self-control. Where do you want
to start?"
"Well, if I get to choose the topic, I think I'll take 'Secret Lives of the
Lone Gunmen' for 200, Alex." Mulder looked very pleased with himself.
"Ah. Rico."
"Alex, nobody calls him 'Rico'."
" I do. I met him before he decided on 'Ringo', which by the way I tried
to talk him out of."
"Okay, go on. I apologize for the interruption."
Alex made a mock bow and then thought for a moment. "We met in college,
freshman year. He was my roommate. Well, one of them. The other one was a
redneck football player. I really think there's a wide streak of sadism in
the people in charge of housing assignments. Anyway, Rico and I became
friends, and the other guy flunked out after a semester."
Mulder waited while the pause expanded. He was having trouble concentrating
on the food in front of him, almost visibly jittering with curiosity by now.
// Who's dead? I need to know!! But I can't just ask. I can't . He has
to tell me. He has to trust me enough to tell me.//
Alex's voice finally broke the silence. "Mulder, I can't do this."
The pain sliced through him like one of Scully's autopsy incisions. //Shit
shit shit. Well, what did you expect? Beat up on somebody for six or seven
years; they're not going to feel all warm and fuzzy towards you.// He
sighed. "It's okay, Alex, I understand. I'll rent a car of my own and go
back—"
"No, I mean—I can't just sit here and talk about my life like this. It's
—it's completely foreign to me. I've never done this; I don't know what
to tell you, what to leave out, where to start...so just go ahead and ask
me. I want to tell you everything, Mulder, and I will. But it's fifteen
years of backstory, and we don't have time. So do your thing, ask the
important questions, and we can get on the road."
"You—you'll let me go with you?"
"Mulder, I know that look in your eye. If I said no, you'd probably follow
me anyway. Which would piss me off, and we don't need that. 'Cause, you
know, I found the duct tape." But he was smiling as he said it, a sexy,
evil smirk which gave Mulder a glimmer of hope for the future. Their
future.
"Oh, Alex, you say the sweetest things..." Mulder said with a smirk of his
own, and waited until Alex stopped choking on the bite of food he had been
trying to swallow. "Okay, how 'bout if I start with five questions?"
"Such restraint! Go ahead."
"Give me a minute here, I need to make them count. Okay, here's number one:
is Krycek your real name?"
"Ahh, good one. Yes, it is my legal name. No, it is not the name I was
born with. I was born Alexander Paul Davidson. I changed it when I turned
twenty-one."
"Hmmm ... What was your major in college?"
"I had a double major, actually. Computer Science and Criminal Justice. Do
not laugh." Mulder shook his head, lips tightly pressed together. "Okay.
I graduated with a 3.80 GPA, and went to work writing software. I had
applied to the FBI Academy, and although they were quite impressed with my
grades, they were less than thrilled by my mother's background—two steps
away from the steppes, as one of my interviewers put it. I hope he's
burning in hell right now. Anyway, I was writing software, mostly databases
in those days, a few games for fun; nobody knew then what would happen in
just a few years. And then one day a man came up to my table when I was
eating lunch. He told me he could get me into the FBI Academy, if I still
wanted it. He ran a special division, sort of a watchdog group. Very
secret, black ops, shhh. And he had seen my application and he wanted me.
I think you can guess the rest, Mulder."
Mulder nodded. "Question three: Are you still with the KGB?"
"Hmmm. The question presumes facts not in evidence, your honor. Comrade
Arntzen is still a member in good standing, as it were. However, the good
comrade is missing and presumed dead, so I would have to say no to that one.
I was never a member of the KGB, Mulder. Just like I wasn't really part
of that militia group. It's astounding what kind of documentation you can
come up with given a computer and a really dedicated hacker."
"How are you financing this little jaunt?"
Alex bristled a bit at that one. "Nervous about blood money, Mulder?" At
Mulder's patient stare, he relaxed. "Sorry, that was a cheap shot. Okay,
remember I said I started out working in software design? I had a knack for
spotting problems before they could happen, and that meant my programs ran
smoother and needed fewer upgrades than others. Not to brag, Mulder, but
everything I wrote was Y2K compliant even back in 1986. I made sure to get
my name on the licenses of all my work. Well, Alex Davidson still gets very
nice royalty checks from the first products I licensed, and I've been busy
on other little projects over the years. Deb is my distributor. We take
orders for games and utilities on the website, and she sends the software
out and keeps the books. It's a fairly lucrative business. Of course, it's
not quite as exciting as my former profession, but I think we both know
exciting isn't always what I'm looking for in a job description."
"Are you ready for the last question?"
"Yes." He was absolutely ready. He knew what was coming. He would answer
in a dry, calm, unemotional voice, and then it would be over. "Ask the
question, Mulder."
"So tell me Alex—this road trip we're taking—am I Thelma or Louise?"
Alex's eyes opened wide, and he started to laugh. He laughed so hard he
forgot how to breathe. Then, with barely a change of expression, he started
to cry. Mulder pulled his chair over beside Alex, and put an arm around his
shoulders. Alex turned his face into the older man's shoulder, and
Mulder's other arm came around him to hold him tight. "Shhh, it's okay, I
know, shhh, I've got you," he murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It's okay, Mulder," Alex said. He raised his head and sat back in his
chair. Mulder handed him a napkin off the table to wipe his face. "I'm
okay. It's just—"
"You thought I was going to ask who died."
"Yeah, I was all set for that one. Damn you, anyway. You never do what I
expect you to."
"But I already know. It was your father, wasn't it? You had Langly working
on finding him, and he did. So now you're going to Wyoming, to see why he
never came back. To see what was so much better than you and your mother to
keep him there. And you're angry because he died before you could talk to
him; before you could tell him you had survived without him."
Alex just stared.
"Will it insult your intelligence if I tell you that nothing any five-
year-old boy ever did made his father leave home?"
"Jesus, Mulder, you really are spooky."
"To quote a friend of mine, 'Yeah, I am. It's what I do.' "
Alex smiled. "That sounds really good, Mulder. Us being friends, I mean.
It's a good start." He sighed. "Let's get going. I've got to check out
that information Langly sent, and plan the trip. You wanna help?"
Alex's father, Paul Davidson, had been living under the name of David
Paulson ("He wasn't even trying ," Alex complained), in the town of
Jackson, Wyoming. According to the trip-planning software Alex used, it
would be a five-day trip, if they drove eight hours each day. They printed
out the directions and a map, and combed through the information Langly had
sent, getting "Paulson's" last address and workplace.
Debbie came back from her errands with three bags of Alex's favorite "car
food" for the trip. While they were trying to fit the bags into the car,
Mulder remembered that he was out of clean clothes, having packed for only a
three day trip. There was a flurry of laundry and repacking.
They were finally ready to leave by three. Almost.
"What do you mean, I can't drive?"
"Mulder, it's my car. I get to drive. If I want you to take the wheel
once in a while, I'll let you know. Get in."
"Fine, passenger picks the music."
" Fine , they're all my CD's anyway."
"Can we at least put the top down?"
"Yeah, okay, we'll put the top down. Crybaby."
"I heard that!"
"You were meant to."
But they were laughing as the hugged Debbie goodbye and pulled out of the
driveway. First stop, Erie, Pennsylvania, just because Mulder liked the
name. Just because.
Mulder's voice came from out of the darkness, sounding like a documentary
narrator. "Day fifty-three...supplies running low...may be forced to eat
Alex to stay alive..."
The meal in question giggled. "Do I get any say in that, Mulder?"
"Yeah, you can pick the body part I start with."
//Did he just say that? 'Cause if it's my choice, I'm pretty sure I know
what part of me I'd like to stick in his mouth. Damn. It's gonna be a
long trip.//
"I still can't believe we're driving to Wyoming."
"Hey, I like this car. I'm not gonna abandon it if I don't have to. And I'm
in no particular hurry to get there. He's not going anywhere. You're just
upset because I won't let you drive."
"Am not."
"Stop pouting. I find that very unattractive in a man." //Although on you,
it looks way too good.//
"Oh? And what do you find attractive?"
//He's doing it again. Why now? Why me?...Shit, why not?//
"Are you flirting with me, Mulder?"
"Just asking a question. Are you gonna answer it?"
Alex took a deep breath and let it out. Not quite a sigh, but almost.
//Okay, big guy, you really wanna know? Just don't hurt yourself jumping
out of the car.// "A sick sense of humor and a nice firm ass. Any other
questions?"
Mulder just smiled. It was a start. And now that they were on the road,
who knew what would happen...
That night in the first in their parade of econo-motel rooms, after
determining the total lack of interesting television programs, Mulder nagged
Alex into continuing the game of "Name that Movie" they had started in the
car. Each reclining on his own bed now, barefoot and sprawled, comfortable
with each other in ways they hadn't ever been before.
" 'We're gonna need a bigger boat.' "
"Too easy. Jaws. My turn...hmmm...'I don't know if I agree with your
police work 100% there, Lou.' "
"Fargo. Okay, let me think...got one! 'If Marxie Heller's so fuckin'
smart, how come he's so fuckin' dead ?' "
"Prizzi's Honor."
"Damn, I thought I had you on that one, Mulder. I am seriously running
out of movies here. We need a new game. Your turn."
"I really want to kiss you right now."
Silence.
"Did you hear me, Alex?"
"Yeah, I'm thinking. That's a tough one. Gimme a hint."
"It's not a quote, Alex; it's just a fact."
"You...what?" Suddenly there was no air in the room. Alex couldn't draw a
breath. // I must be dreaming.// "Mulder...?"
"Fox. Please. I want to hear you say it."
" Mulder , are you joking? Because I—shit! Since when are you—?"
The older man laughed. "Since the first time I saw you. I thought 'God, I
have got to get him out of that suit.' I was so lost in mentally
undressing you, I completely missed the whole hand- shake moment. Alex,
I've known I was bi since high school. It's just not very often I meet
anyone who's worth the trouble."
"And...are you saying...?"
"I still want you. If you feel the same, that is."
Alex's voice came softly. "Fox... I—I do. I've wanted that since I met
you."
His name on Alex's lips sent desire surging through Mulder. "So why are you
still waay over there on the other bed?" he asked, teasingly.
The voice was rough now. "I'm afraid to move. I've had this dream before...
and waking up just when I reach out for you is—it's really a drag."
"Alex, you're not dreaming. This is me; this is real . And if you're not
going to move, I guess I will." With that, Mulder arose from his bed and
took the two steps across to Alex. He sank down onto the mattress and
placed his hand on Alex's warm thigh. He could feel the tension there, and
began to massage it away, moving his hand slowly up to the heat above.
Alex moaned, then reached out for... Fox . He had always called Mulder that
in his fantasies, and now—.
It was strange to feel so tentative, so...unsure. He was always the
aggressor when it came to sex, whether it was a man or woman in the bed.
Big bad Alex the stud. And now he had no idea how to proceed. This was so
far out of reality—well, look who he was talking about. But he knew he
needed to kiss that mouth, right now , before Mulder came to his senses and
realized what he was doing. He reached out, grasped the back of Mulder's
head and pulled him in. Just one kiss.
This wasn't just a kiss, though. It was more, so much more that it had no
name, only feeling. Heat. Blazing heat, too-close-to-a- bonfire heat,
bone-melting, soul-destroying, // please God don't let it stop // heat.
Tongues searching for their mates, circling, duelling, //I win, you win// .
And the taste of him. Salt from those damn seeds, coffee from dinner, a bit
of cinnamon; it was indefinable. It was incredible. It was everything.
After what seemed about twenty-seven years, Alex came back to himself enough
to know that Mulder was trying to take off his shirt. His hands were
roaming around Alex's chest, until they encountered the straps of his
prosthesis. And stopped.
//Shit. This is the part that always stopped me before. Sometimes I can
almost forget it's there. Nice ride while it lasted.//
Mulder drew back, feeling the hesitation, and looked into Alex's face.
Watched the honest emotions that had been there a moment before fade away to
be hidden behind the mask he had always hated. The one that so coolly looked
out over the world and let no one inside. He needed to crack that mask,
smash it into a million pieces and sweep it away so it couldn't be found
again.
"Alex, please, let me—" Mulder pulled the shirt over Alex's head and
down his arms. His fingers found the fastenings of the straps and fumbled
a bit. Alex didn't stop him, but didn't help either.
And then Mulder saw why. The scars were ugly. There was no other word for
it—oh, maybe horrific, but that wasn't any better. //Look what I did
to him. My selfish, foolish, blind search for a truth that was never there.
How can he not hate me every day of his life? How can he let me touch him,
let me near him?// Mulder's eyes closed, and he bowed his head. "Oh,
God, Alex, I—I'm sorry. I never—"
Alex was up and moving away before the next words could be spoken. His voice
was bitter. "It's okay, Mulder. Really. I understand. How can anybody
want to—"
" No ." The word was a whipcrack. Alex stopped and looked back to the bed
where Mulder still sat, head in his hands. Saw the anguish on the face as
the head was raised, saw the tears in the eyes that met his. "No, Alex, I
didn't mean—don't ... Please. It's just hard for me to ... face what
I did to you. What my arrogance cost you. I don't feel disgust, or pity,
or anything close to that. I'm just so fucking sorry. And I don't know
how I can ever make it right. How you can let me touch you after ..."
Alex was across the room in two steps. He knelt beside the bed and put his
hand on the side of Mulder's face. Looked deep into the tormented eyes. "I
don't blame you anymore, Mulder. Listen to me. It was no one's fault
entirely. Blame the bastards who started the testing. Blame the idiots who
started cutting off people's arms. Hell, blame Marita for getting you the
papers. It was the end product of a long string of events, and God knows I
had my own part in them. If you hadn't mistrust—no. If I hadn't
given you every reason to mistrust me, maybe you wouldn't have thrown me
in the back of that truck. But I knew they were listening in that cell. I
couldn't give you any reassurances. And you wouldn't have believed them
anyway.
"It's the past , Mulder. All of it. And I want to move on. Do you?" He
held his breath and waited for the answer.
It came in the form of another kiss. This one was all sweetness and
promise, a taste of things to come. Alex moved up off his knees, feeling
one pop as he did. // Damn, am I getting too old for this?// He pushed
Mulder back against the pillows and deepened the kiss. Heat again, and
something else now. He was in charge and it felt good. Felt great . Like
nothing ever before. All his fantasies, in this one man. "Stay right there
- don't you dare move."
He stood up and began to unfasten his jeans. Stared straight into Mulder's
eyes as he slowly peeled down the zipper. Worked the tight denim down past
his impossibly hard cock. Past his knees, down to his ankles, to be kicked
off. His briefs followed the jeans into the corner under the chair, and
then he was back on the bed. "Your turn, Mulder. Strip for me. Make it
good."
Mulder's eyes said he understood about being in charge, and just this once
he wouldn't fight about it. He stood and stretched for effect, then walked
over to the dresser. Leaning one hip against it, he began to work the
buttons of his blue oxford shirt. One by one, they released, revealing the
ever-so-gorgeous chest that Alex remembered. Leaving the shirt hanging from
his shoulders, he caressed his pecs, sliding his fingertips over the
hardening nipples. Lowering his hands now, he popped the first button of
his jeans. Then the second. Third.
Alex's cock was twitching with need, but this show was so fine; too
entrancing to interrupt. //Who knew Mulder could be like this? Was there a
sign I missed? I really thought I had him pegged, after all these years.
And what am I complaining about? Fuck, he's so beautiful.//
Mulder smiled. "Alex? So are you."
//Fuck, that was out loud. I've lost it.//
"Don't stop now , dammit. I want you naked."
"I thought you said to make it good?"
"Jesus, Mulder if you don't stop arguing with me..."
"Yeesss?"
"I have a much better use for your mouth."
"Really? And what would that be?"
" Mulder. Pants. Off. Now."
For a wonder, Mulder obeyed quickly and almost leapt onto the bed. Hands
moved over skin, touching, teasing, loving. Mouths following hands,
licking, nipping, tasting. A storm of feelings and pleasure, with no clear
end in sight. Alex found himself turned over onto his stomach, and then...
For the second time that night, he felt Mulder freeze. He craned his head
around to see what the problem was, and found the hazel-golden gaze fixed on
his ass. Specifically on the left buttock.
"Alex?"
//Ooops//
"Alex, could you please help me out here? An explanation of some kind?"
"I was very drunk, Mulder. It was right after—well, let's just say I
thought I'd never see you again."
"I see. So you get some woman's name tattooed on your ass to celebrate?"
"What?"
"Alex, who the fuck is Lisa?"
Alex started to laugh. He couldn't help it. Samuel Beckett couldn't have
written a scene this absurd. He turned over and pulled Mulder down on top
of him, nestling their cocks together.
"Mulder—Fox—baby, are you jealous?"
"Well, I—no, " he pouted.
Alex laughed harder. "It's not a woman's name in Russian."
"What?"
"It's Russian . It's the Russian word for 'fox'. It's your name, you
idiot. Sometimes when I drink, I forget how to speak English. Evidently
when I told the tattoo artist what I wanted it to say, I—well, he didn't
question it. And I kinda liked it. Like a secret only I would ever
appreciate. Still mad?"
A smile stole across Mulder's face. "Depends...can I say that your ass is
mine, now?"
"It always has been. Always."
Mulder responded by grinding his crotch sharply into Alex's. "Prove it."
"I was trying to, before you had your little hissy fit..."
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that one."
"Oooh, I'm so scared . Whatcha gonna do, big strong FBI man? Handcuffs?"
"Will you stop laughing ?"
"Make m—mmmphmmmm"
// Dear God in heaven, whatever I did to get to this, I promise to do it
more often, but please don't let him stop.//
Strong hands stroking over his shoulders, down the one arm, and gently, so
gently over the ruins of the other. Kisses on his face, his neck, his ear
// tickles, ooh, so good//
down to the collarbone. Sucking, biting, licking,
//leave a mark, I dare you//
...down to the chest.
// Lower, lower, oh yesss, rightthere. Mmm.//
Hands on his cock now, petting it like a kitten
//where the fuck did that thought come from?//
and now the mouth on him, and //ohhhhhhhhgodohgodohgod//
"Alex?"
"Hmm"
"Hey!"
"Wha-?"
"Do you have—um—supplies?"
//oh no not NOW don't stop NOW//
"Mulder, you don't have condoms?"
" Alex , I was on a case with Scully , for chrissakes. Why would I bring
condoms? It's been quite a while since I've needed them."
"Check. Your. Wallet. Because I may have to shoot someone if you are not
in my ass in like three seconds."
"Greedy slut. Owww." Mulder winced at the fingers twisting his left nipple
and got up. "I'm checking my wallet now...Hey! I forgot about these!
They were a present from Frohike last Christmas."
"Mulder, please tell me they aren't really that color."
"Yeah, and look—they have little eyes, too."
"Oh, God, why me? All right, get your frighteningly green alien- head
condoms and your lovely ass over here and fuck me. Now."
"Are you always going to be this bossy?"
"I really think I might."
"Good, 'cause I like it. For now."
A beautiful smile, a growl, a moan...//who was that? Does it matter?//
Lube? Little bottle of lotion from the bathroom works just fine...
"...nownownownownow. Oh. GOD. yesyesyes"
Afterglow...
"Alex..."
"Now what?"
"I love you."
"Mmm. You better."
"That's all I get?"
"Depends."
"On?"
"Can I call you Fox when you're not trying to seduce me?"
"Depends."
"I love you, Fox."
"Oh, yeah. That works."
"Do you think it'll always be..."
"That much fun? We can but try, I suppose."
"Sounds like a plan, Thelma. OW!"
Road Trip
by Starfish
On the Road
Alex's eyes were wild. "Cell phone, where did I leave my fucking cell
phone..."
