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Sunflower Seeds II
by Jami Wilsen


Fried Eggs

The sight of Fox Mulder in an apron studiously making waffles and preparing a bowl of fruit while intently looking after several other pans on the stove was unexpected. Alex stood in the kitchen doorway, blinking, his dark hair tousled, wearing only a long-sleeved shirt and sweats. He was starting to shiver, but didn't notice. He gaped at Mulder and wondered if this was a sight he should get used to.

Mulder, still facing the stove, looked up at him briefly while he quickly and deftly rolled sausages in a hot pan. "Good morning. Jesus, Alex, have some common sense. You'll get chilblains walking around these floors with your feet bare like that."

"Okay, Mom." His flippant reply did nothing to hide his surprise.

Mulder grinned at him. "Sorry about yesterday. I guess I lost it, huh? But how do waffles sound? Will that make up for it?"

"Yeah, I guess. But only if they're edible." Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Shit, this floor is freezing!"

"Told you," Mulder said, whipping a boiling pot off the back burner.

Walter came in the front door, stamping his feet. "It snowed last night," he declared. Then he caught sight of Alex's bare toes. He was about to make a joke about warm thoughts and decided against it; that had been a long time ago and he didn't want to recall the painful balcony episode to Alex's mind. "We got about two inches. I just checked the generator though; we're fine. Maybe later I could show you around, Alex; let you know all the things you need to know about in the event of getting snowed in or a storm?"

"Yeah, sure." He shifted from one foot to the next continuously until Walter chuckled.

"Get upstairs, boy! Get dressed before you freeze to death."

He took off his coat and hat, and then his boots. He went in to sit at the kitchen table. Pouring himself a glass of orange juice, he remarked to Mulder, "You seem chipper. What's gotten into you?"

Mulder didn't turn around; he was too intent on the food. "I've been thinking. About us, and him, and what happened. About the past. You know something, Walt? You were right."

"About what? Which part?"

Mulder sniffed and flipped an egg over. "I wasn't willing to give him a chance. But I am now. If he meant us any harm, he could have already hurt us."

"I know. I'm glad you agree. Does this mean... Are you okay with this, then?"

Mulder turned with a glint in his eye and a little half-smile. "I guess I'll have to be if I want to keep up. You didn't waste any time last night, did you?"

Walter nearly choked on his swallow; the juice burned the back of his throat. He was lost for a reply and before he could find one, Fox had already turned back to the eggs.

But Fox's voice was easy, light. He didn't sound upset. "It's my turn tonight. We'll have to set up a rotation, a schedule. God, Walt; I never thought I'd see the day that we'd have Alex Krycek on a timeshare." He shook his head slowly.

"Why so limited, Fox? Why not all three of us in my room? Bed's big enough." But Walter was grinning hugely.

"Maybe later. He and I... we've got—things to sort out. You're not gonna feel left out, are you?"

The genuine concern in his voice moved Walter. "No, no. Don't worry about it. Besides, I need recovery time. I'm not as quick off the bat as you two are. I think those days are over for me."

Mulder nearly dropped the spatula with anger and rounded on him, brandishing it. "You are not getting old! Don't you dare start using this as an excuse to start complaining about your age."

Walter was laughing at him quietly. "Fox, Fox. I was referring to the fact that there are two of you. Running from room to room trying to keep both of you happy is a bit much. That's why I'm quite okay with relinquishing him tonight, and why I still think it's a good idea for us all to get used to the thought of my bed." He stopped, and chuckled. "Besides, last night was a bit rushed. We were both too tired and it was too dark to really enjoy it properly. These things are meant to be savored."

Mulder raised his eyebrows at him. "You're really taken with him, yourself. Aren't you?"

Walter snorted. "You're one to talk. 'Let he who is without sin.' Christ, three years of mooning over him and now that he's here we're scheduling him in. But if you want him that badly, I won't fight over him."

Fox was about to retort to that but there was a noise upstairs, Alex closing his bedroom door behind him, and he bit his lip, wanting both to scowl and to chuckle, not really sure if he was upset or not. He felt differently this morning, about everything. He was even a little ashamed at being unable to control himself the previous day. His breakfast endeavor was an attempt to make up for it. Although he was very aware that he was going to have to talk with Alex later. The anticipation that ran through him at that thought made him very glad he was busy over the stove. He felt nervous and jittery. For fuck's sake; it wasn't like he had never felt like this for anyone before. Maybe it was just knowing how the other man felt about him. Overhearing Alex's tearful confession yesterday had struck him deeply. At first he'd just been stunned, later he'd felt ashamed. Now he didn't know how he would be able to hide his nervousness from either of them.

Alex was coming downstairs and had let his footfall warn them he was there. Walter looked up as he came in to join them. A red and gray checkered flannel shirt and simple jeans gave him a rustic look; he looked as though he'd been living here for years.

"You'll fit right in," Walter commented, letting his gaze caress him warmly. "Sit down; help yourself to the waffles." He nodded at the plate that was piled high in the center of the table.

Alex looked almost startled at the welcoming tone, the obvious admiration in Skinner's eyes. He sat down at the table, feeling self-conscious.

Mulder turned, holding a skillet and the spatula. "Eggs? Hash browns?" His apron was now clearly visible.

Alex took one look at the apron and couldn't help himself, bursting into quiet laughter as he tried to suppress it, without much luck. Finally, sniggering, he asked, "'Kiss me, I'm the cook,' or even Garfield, I could understand, but—a French maid?"

"It was his idea," Mulder muttered. "He gave it to me for my birthday last month." He turned away, mumbling under his breath.

"I'll have to order you something appropriate, Alex," Walter mused. "For Christmas."

"A pair of charcoal gray shorts; with two fried eggs on either cheek," Mulder suggested, bringing eggs and other fried foods to the table, unloading them onto their plates.

"No, those are for you," contradicted Walter. "I doubt Alex here will need as much correctional attention as you do. No, I think something more fitting—"

"Jesus, Walt. Any tighter fitting than those and he's not gonna be able to sit down." Mulder was indicating Alex's jeans. Then stopped, obviously wishing he hadn't said anything to make it so plain that he'd noticed them. The jeans. The tightness of them. That he'd been looking. That they looked so good on him... Mulder turned and fled back to the stove.

Walter acted as though he hadn't noticed this, although he did look up at Alex and give him a surreptitious wink and said, "Not being able to sit down is not always a result of tight jeans. You should know that from experience, Fox." He regarded Alex. "Actually, I'm surprised you can sit down this morning. But no, you need something else, something a little more suave."

Mulder coughed. "Suave!? I get the French maid and he gets suave!?"

"Well, how about a compromise then? A French gentleman?"

"I thought he was Russian. Aren't you, Alex?"

Alex was taking all this in mutely, not quite sure how to enter the banter. Walter caught his eye and smiled warmly at him, with a little shake of his head. Almost as if to say, don't worry, just go along with it. And then Walter supplied, "I meant appropriate. Like a fishing rod or something. He's going to have to help bring in the trout now. We all earn our keep, remember? And don't worry, Fox, I won't make you cook it. Hell, I won't let you near any fish I catch."

"Suits me," Mulder shrugged, coming to sit down at the table, sans apron. "I won't clean them either."

"Why not?" Alex asked.

"I don't like the way they stare at me."

"Fox gets freaked out by their eyes as they lay there on the counter," Walter put in, dryly. "He won't eat them if they have their heads still attached, either."

"I guess that rules out fish-head bouillabaisse, then," Alex suggested.

Mulder frowned, suspicious that he was the butt of a joke that he couldn't quite grasp. It wasn't funny to him. Fish eyes staring bug-like up at him without blinking was a reminder of aliens, out of some strange association his mind had made in the past.

But Walter regarded Alex with renewed interest. "My god, someone who understands real food. What a relief. Can you cook, too?"

Alex smiled. "If you dare to let me in the kitchen, yeah."

"Uh-huh. Who's all domesticated now, then?" Mulder murmured, into his eggs.

Walter found it very interesting that Mulder had refused to look at Alex even once so far. Apart from his jeans. He grinned, and caught Alex's eye again. "Wait until he hears about the rotation," he said to Mulder.

Who froze and then said quickly, "Can't that wait?"

Alex was looking from one to the other, lost again. "Rotation?"

Walter's lips twitched but he took pity on Fox who was looking rather tense and red-faced. "Later. We'll have to work out who does what." And whom, he thought. Ah, Fox, you have no idea how obvious you are. It's kind of cute, but you're such an amateur. Alex is a sure thing. There's no need to get so flustered.

He addressed Alex again. "If you cook, we do the dishes. And don't worry, we won't patronize you by making allowances for your arm, except where you decide you want to. You've proven you can be more than able with what you have."

Alex gave a small smile. "Thanks. Actually, I can do a lot more with this one than you might think. I've got rudimentary control over the fingers and the grasping action. There's a slight delay in timing but it's pretty good. I have to be careful sometimes; they're stronger than actual fingers. So, don't worry about it."

Walter noticed the hasty glances that Alex would cast at Fox, as if he dared not be caught lingering over him. As if he too was afraid their eyes would meet. Walter privately hoped this adolescent behavior would stop after tonight; it was stressful enough after having to go through yesterday's problems. He took another waffle. "Help yourself, Alex."

"I'm going to be working again today. Collating research," Mulder explained for Alex's benefit. "What are you guys going to do?"

Walter lifted his chin at Alex, motioning with his fork before swallowing. "I was thinking of going hunting. Care to join me? We could do with more meat in the freezer before we get more snow. It would give you a chance to get to know the countryside, let you know what our area is like."

"Yeah, sounds good," Alex said, an interested tone entering his voice. Almost eager.

"Great, that'll get us out of Fox's hair and keep us outside for a while. After we're done here?"

"Sure." Alex's smile was definitely more eager this time; he was warming to the idea.

Mulder was trying not to stare at him. Alex's face transformed when he smiled. Particularly when it was a real one; he looked so much younger, freer.

And then Alex was peering at him, a hasty glance in his direction out of the corner of his eye. Their eyes met. And slid away. Mulder realized he was holding his breath. He forced himself to concentrate on his plate. Alex was wondering why he felt like he was walking on eggs here.

Walter of course watched this little exchange with interest. "Are we back in school, kids?" he asked, gently.

"Yeah, well, you know," Mulder dissembled, "nothing like a little sexual tension to lighten the mood."

Walter took in Alex's blush and Mulder's nerves. "Fine. I want to avoid a repeat of yesterdays' affair with the knife and the tumble on the floor. We might as well get this right out in the open. Alex, Fox and I were mentioning that we might try a rotation. You know, take it in turns who gets a good night's sleep and who doesn't?"

"That's one way to put it," Mulder said with a slight smile.

"Well, it's my turn to get some sleep, tonight." Walter was grinning again.

Alex swallowed and went very still.

Mulder sucked in a breath. "God, I can't take this." He stood up abruptly, leaned over the surprised Alex and caught him by the chin to plant a kiss on his lips. He then strode out of the kitchen into the living room and turned on his computer, out of sight.

Alex sat in stupefaction while Walter smiled at him. "You okay?"

Clearing his throat and regarding his plate again, his fork forgotten in his hand, Alex replied, "Yeah." ...Not. Why did Mulder do that? Was he having second thoughts? Did he have a chance with him? Was Mulder going to forgive him? Did this mean that Mulder might really want to spend tonight with him? He forced himself with an effort to keep his attention on Walter.

"Good. Because I think we're on kitchen detail."

Mulder sat before the monitor without really seeing it, listening to Walter and Alex chatting about god knows what; he couldn't really hear. Bless Walt, he thought, for keeping them from getting too heavy. If Walt wasn't here, Mulder suspected he would have ended up wrestling Alex to the floor and dry-humping him. At the thought of this, though, he flashed on the memory of what it felt like yesterday and a hint of shame and anger went through him. He pulled up his files, opening them with angry jabs of his fingers on the keys.

He was soon engrossed though and even the reemergence of Walter and Alex from the kitchen wasn't enough to distract him. At least, he hoped that's what they thought. He absently waved a hand as they passed through, telling him they were going out soon. He didn't dare think of what it meant, that he'd just kissed him... it wasn't enough and he wanted to do it again, properly.

Alex went upstairs for a shower and Walter pottered about readying things for their hunting trip. By the time he'd finished, Alex hadn't yet come back downstairs and Mulder found himself with of a pair of heavy hands on his shoulders, kneading him. And then Walter placed a kiss on the back of his neck. "You okay, then? We'll be back in a while. Takes a while to get there, as you know. And then there's the stakeout. And if we do get something, we'll have to pack it up. I expect we'll be gone all day."

Mulder considered the screen. "I'll be fine. I just need some time to think about it more. Maybe being alone here will give me the space I need."

"Alright. You know, you don't have to go through with this. Maybe both of you need more time to adjust."

"Walt, we spent years dancing around it. I've spent more than enough time avoiding him, and the issue. Pretending it wasn't there, that it would go away. It was only through hating him that I could ignore the way he looked. I think I subconsciously understood the danger of falling for him when we met. In a way, if he hadn't betrayed me it would have been my undoing, 'cause I don't think I would have been able to resist him. Especially," Mulder laughed now, "if I'd had anything to do with refitting his wardrobe!"

Walter chuckled and kissed his ear before standing up and going over to put on his coat. "I hear that."

So do I, thought Alex, at the top of the stairs. Weird. It looked like Mulder was beginning to crumble fast. He thought it would have taken a lot longer, but maybe Walter was right; Walter had been working on him for some time now, and had also hinted that many other issues had been sorted in Mulder's mind over the last year or two. Maybe Mulder was actually going to prove he could get past his denial of their relationship and their dynamic sooner. Alex wasn't sure that he could, though. Shaking his head, he wondered how he was supposed to explain to Mulder that he would do anything at all for him... just to be accepted by him here... without losing face. Without Mulder looking down his nose at him. He thoughtfully went downstairs to join Walter at the front door.

As they pulled on their outside gear Walter opened the front door. "Well, so much for the snow," he reported. "It's already slush. Should make life interesting. Those waterproof?" he pointed at Alex's boots.

"Yeah, of course."

"Good. We're going slushing. Bye, Fox."

Alex looked over at Mulder, hesitantly. "Bye."

Mulder caught his eye and held it. "Come back in one piece."

Alex nodded and then ducked his head, obviously wanting to say more and deciding not to.

He listened as they got into Walter's fancy jeep and drove off. He sighed. God damn but Alex Krycek looked good. Why did he have to be so fucking pretty? WHY? It wasn't fair. If he were anyone else, Mulder knew he would not have the slightest compunction to show any compassion whatsoever. But Alex had that wounded look perpetually on his face like a shroud of desperate hope, begging for the chance while trying to act tough. He realized that he had always seen that look in Alex's eyes, every time he'd hit him. Every time they'd met.

He sat, unmoving, cursing silently. Tonight. Tonight! He couldn't stop thinking about it. It was a good thing they were going out, or he knew he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from initiating something. Anything! Walter must've known this. Now how could he go through with this and still save face? He didn't want a repeat of yesterday's embarrassing moment, when he'd realized Alex wasn't turned on by their contact and he was. He worried next that Alex had feelings for him but they didn't extend to the physical. But no, that couldn't be it either, or he would have said something to Walt, and... Jeez, Alex was already with Walt, wasn't he? He groaned aloud and went into the kitchen to make himself coffee. No more distractions. He needed to get on with his notes. He would throw himself into it and refuse to let himself think about Krycek, Krycek, Krycek. Alex. Krycek. Dark lashes and that deliciously evil, beautiful mouth. Fuckable mouth. Alex-fucking-Krycek. No.... fucking Alex... Fuck! His cock leapt and he sighed. They'd be gone all day. His hand moved to the front of his pants.

As they drove farther and farther northeast along a difficult trail, Alex realized the severity of their location in terms of distance and placement in the wilds. His approach had been along a dirt road—the only one. This barely marked track was just a pair of indentations in the ground. They ended up in a crawl, the tires feeling their way over every bumpy rock and muddy pool.

Finally, Walter stopped and turned off the ignition and looked over at him. "Well? Shall we?"

Alex's answering grin was good to see. Walter found himself wondering when was the last time Alex had done anything for the fun of it, rather than for survival, intrigue or Consortium planning.

As Walter got out on his side, Alex stepped out onto the ground and experienced a moment of disorientation. What was he doing here? It was hard to take it in; it was so different being here. The usual normality of hotels, clandestine meetings, warped people and vicarious liaisons with Rebel Aliens was so far away. All he had ever wanted was right here in the palm of his hand, right now.

To have waited all these years for a normal life, to end up in this remote, primordial place and find these two here, and together? It was surreal and yet so fitting. His life was nothing if not interesting. He frowned, wondering how long they actually had left together. He found a deep longing to stay here forever, for the rest of his life.

"Deep thoughts, Alex?" Walter's voice was instantly grounding. He pulled the backpacks and gun cases out of the back seat and slammed the door.

Alex smiled to cover the morbid flavor of his mood. He was feeling rather overwhelmed by the emptiness of the vista, the paradoxically rich surrounds of the landscape. There were distant craggy hills that led to farther peaks, the wind sang slightly over the grass and although gray, the sky was still bright. It was almost idyllic, despite the knowledge that the beauty masked the dangers of this country. To be this far north and try to live here all year round was quite an undertaking.

And it was sufficiently removed from any other countryside he'd ever visited. He didn't have to suffer impressions overlaid from past experiences that might have marred the beauty for him. No bad memories. It was a welcome change. The experience of it was unspoiled and virgin, like the land itself.

They each took a pack and a rifle, and went the rest of the way on foot. Walter knew of an excellent place for watching for deer, elk and other animals. There was wet snow everywhere. They might have been able to track spoor and hoof prints in the snow but it was already melting. When they reached the foothills there was a large, shallow riverbed with many dry stones along the bottom and all along the sides. The dirt of the embankment was smooth and offered a rise up out of tall grass, giving them a perfect vantage point to observe passing wildlife. Luckily, they didn't disturb any nesting river fowl as they set themselves up amidst the grass.

Then came the wait. Walter turned and whispered to him, "It's just a matter of time, I think. They come along here to drink sometimes. I've had a lot of luck with this particular spot."

"What are we looking for?"

"Something big enough to carve up for the winter. We've got one more supply drop which we'll arrange in about a week, and then that's the last one until the end of January, so we have to make it count. We can always make it into town but they don't have everything. And this meat will do us for a while, if we get something. Probably an elk, or a deer. They come down out of the foothills to range around here. I'll let you take the shot, okay?"

Alex shrugged slightly. "If you want. I don't mind."

Walter smiled. "Hey, I didn't drag you all the way out here for nothing."

Alex took a deep breath. The air was heady, filling his lungs with the deep scent of plants, grasses, even the smell of the water. It was a far cry from the city and the petty rivalries of squabbling intelligence agencies. The sharp tangy green scent of trees, dark green trees.

And he found he loved it. This was all so removed from the considerations of conscience or duty, or loyalty, or even survival. This was primal. The attempt to socially and personally integrate into their home here was equally distant and seemed not as urgent as when he was in the house.

The distant call of birds and marshy bubbling of water and trickling streams nearby, flowing in cracks into the riverbed, was broken only by the muted sound of the wind blowing occasionally through the reeds and grasses where they lay.

Silently, Walter's hand touched his elbow. He followed his gaze and saw a large stag making his way down to the river. He was quite a long way off.

"Remember; through the heart, clean, one shot," Walter mouthed.

Alex nodded, training the sights.

There were a few minutes of silence, filled with heart-pounding thuds in their eardrums as they waited for the stag to near them. Closer, closer. A perfect shot. Lined up beautifully. Walter held his breath. Now. Now... He waited. It was an excellent shot. Now. Now!

Alex lowered the rifle. "I can't," he whispered, hovering between misery and surprise. "It isn't the same. He—he doesn't deserve it."

Walter turned his head, taking in his expression. Alex looked shocked, looking down at the rifle with a puzzled stare.

Walter quickly lifted his own and brought it to bear on the stag's heart. Gently squeezed the trigger. But then the stag was no longer there.

It was too late; they'd had their shot. If they were to get it, Alex should have taken it in that few precious seconds. The stag was leaping away, having perhaps overheard something that had carried on the wind. "Oh well. You're lucky, little brother," Walter murmured. "Another time maybe."

Alex was staring out into the distance; somewhere in that direction the stag was flying over streams and rocks amidst the trees, having reached the tree line. "I'm sorry. I couldn't do it."

Walter thought he understood, at last partly. He was assailed by several feelings at once. He identified some of them as relief and tenderness, and a little frustration. He was glad Alex had discovered he couldn't shoot indiscriminately, or take a life without just cause. He was also slightly pissed that they'd missed the stag; venison made very good eating and he didn't have any left in the freezers. He sighed to himself. Looks like it was back to trout fishing in the backyard. Unless they stayed out here for a good while more, it was unlikely they would get anything.

Gruffly, he observed, "At least you know that you can't kill without having a good reason to. I'm kind of glad, Alex. It means I was right about you. I took a chance on you, you know."

Alex's fingers were trembling and he looked pale. Shock, Walter thought. Best to keep him talking. But Alex looked him right in the eye and said, "It's still hard to believe that I'm here. That you want me here; either of you. It kinda takes some getting used to, you know?" He shook his head and put the rifle down, turning and laying on his back to regard the sky. "I shouldn't have come out here. I should've let you go alone. I lost the deer for you. I'm sorry."

"Nonsense," Walter said firmly, sitting up and stretching. He rummaged in his backpack and took out coffee and a sandwich. "The main reason we came out here was to get you out of the house. I wanted you to see some of the countryside, get a feel for where we are. All of this is our territory. And I'm glad, too, because it shows me that you aren't the ruthless killer we all thought you were, including yourself, Alex."

"That's generous of you to say so. Still, I am sorry, Walter." Alex sat up to lean on his elbow, accepting the offer of coffee in one of the thermos lids from Walter. "I feel alive here, out here with you. In this place. I don't mean just here and now. It's like I've been running for so long I forgot what it was like to stand still without feeling like either that deer or the hunter."

"You're both. If you can feel it and remember it, let it start to drop away and just take pleasure in being here, now... That's when you stop being the hunter or the hunted and become saved. You have to save yourself by letting it happen. Believe me, it took us months before we stopped jumping at every little sound, expecting people to jump out at us from around every corner. Before we could remember what it might be like to just live and not be so concerned with what the rest of the world was doing."

Alex looked past him, surveying the cold terrain and the distant mountains. "I like it here. I could get used to it. I don't think it would be very easy for me to leave." He stopped himself short at this, wishing he hadn't said it aloud. He'd quickly gotten so used to spilling everything he was thinking to Walter that he hadn't realized what he was revealing. He shot a terrified glance at him; sure that he'd overstepped his boundaries this time.

Walter smiled reassuringly. "Six months is a long time. I'm willing to bet that if you try to leave us at the end of it, Fox and I will both threaten to chain you to the bed and not let you go."

Alex licked his lips and looked down on the ground, at the lumpy grass they were lying on. "I'm not used to this. I don't know—how to act. What to say. I'm not used to being wanted." He looked up, meeting Walter's gentle eyes. "I feel like a wild animal and I don't know how to be... like Fox is. So domestic."

"He was wrong," commented Walter. "You're not a rat, you're a wolf. Wolves are pack animals; they can live alone and survive, but it makes them lonely. There's a part of you that'll always be wild and I don't think that should change. But that doesn't mean living in splendid isolation in an ivory tower somewhere, letting your heart wither away. Let me assure you that you are welcome here; you're part of this family, if you want to stay."

Alex only nodded, not trusting himself to speak around the lump that had suddenly developed in his throat.

"Believe me, I know how much that means to you." Walter sighed. "I missed out on that feeling for years, and trying to get Fox through his pain in the beginning was bad, too. He lost his sister, then his father, then his mother. He had only his partner and his boss, and a few close friends. Not even that, towards the end."

But Alex's expression went mournful and clouded at the mention of Mulder's father. Damn, thought Walter. Should've remembered. Still, there was no sense in hiding from it and pretending it wasn't important. It would've come up at some point soon, anyway.

"Another skeleton in the closet," Alex said, tersely.

"Stop it," Walter said, putting more of a command into his voice. "Feeling sorry for yourself isn't an option. There's no need to. You'll have to apologize to him at some point for that. But you have to stop letting yourself die slowly in that guilty loop you keep running in your head all the time." Impulsively, he got up and moved the last few inches to sit beside him, pushing the startled man once more onto his back and resting his weight with his forearm on his chest, against his thick winter coat, holding him down. Leaning over him, he brought his mouth down to cover Alex's warmly, before pulling back and adding, "Any time you need punishing for that, you let me know. Don't let Fox drive you into a guilt cycle over his father. Hell, he wasn't even his father. And it's a hell of a better way to release all that anxiety than pushing yourself to the brink of suicide, or pulling away from people who care about you, who can forgive you."

Alex shook his head slightly. "I don't get it, I don't. Yesterday, when you—when you punished me... What is it about that; why do you do it? How can you not... not find it exciting?"

Walter searched his face, carefully. "Does it excite you?"

He swallowed, hesitating. "Yeah. With you, yeah. I guess."

"Then maybe you need another form of punishment instead. Maybe your punishment needs to be in the form of acceptance, of loving. To know that you are forgiven."

"You're serious, aren't you!? How is that a punishment?"

Walter leaned closer, stopping just before his lips touched Alex's and whispered, "I love you; I care about you. I'm here for you, just as much as I am for Fox."

Alex gulped and closed his eyes, trying to counter his immediate reaction of his eyes tearing up at this, with a nervous reply, "Okay, alright. I get it."

"You think I'm just saying that to prove a point?" Walter pressed his lips to him, once, pulling back once again.

Too much love... Alex let out his breath, hissed, "How can-!" And then demanded, "Why? Why do you—" He couldn't bring himself to say it. And then abruptly changed the subject. "I'm sorry, I meant to tell you this morning. I'm clean; completely. I had myself tested before coming out here. I just wanted you to know. After last night?"

Walter shook his head slowly with amazement. "Talk about changing the subject... Okay, I'm glad to hear that. So are we. So, you don't mind if I fuck you right here, right now? Since you're so 'available' and all?"

Alex closed his eyes again and bit his lips. "I don't think I've had this much sex, this frequently, in years. I haven't exactly had a steady partner, you know?"

"If I'm moving too fast for you, you have to let me know," Walter said, instantly contrite. "I don't mean to push you."

Alex relaxed, looking up at him, steady. "Why do you want me? I don't get it."

"I don't know," Walter admitted. "I think it might have something to do with—with how beautiful you are, for a man. I mean, I love Fox. I really do. He's incredible to me. But you're different. Incredible in another way entirely. I don't know. Maybe it's because you have so much... need in you. You remind me of a broken child, a little brother of long-lost relation from a long time back. I just know that you're worth the effort." Then he gave up, losing himself instead in the sheer sensation of kissing the man under him hard, deeply. Not letting him up even as he began to run out of breath, until Alex was desperately breathing in through his nose and making little moans against him.

He began to taste his lips, to slide his tongue between them, loving the way Alex returned his kiss, letting his own tongue battle with his. Walter released him suddenly and lifted his head, leaving Alex gasping.

A slow grin overtook him and he looked down at Alex. "Those perfect teeth," he murmured. And then said, "Did you know that apart from you and I and that stag, there is no living soul for ten, maybe twenty miles around?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So it doesn't matter if you scream or not." He continued to grin down at him.

It was an expression that gradually found its way across Alex's face as well. "What about bears?"

"Hell, they're probably all looking for somewhere to hibernate."

"Moose?"

"I didn't see any. Did you?"

"Badgers?"

"You're reaching now. Give it up."

"Wolves?" Alex's grin was positively sparkling, making him catch his breath.

"Only the one I've got right here," he muttered and captured those lips again, this time savagely sucking at them until they were swollen. Meanwhile, their hands were busy trying to loosen their clothing.

The sharp cold air on their skin was a marked contrast to the heat of their bodies against each other. The cold also had the interesting effect of bringing their nipples into relief. Walter placed ravaging kisses and little bites all the way down the smooth chest, past the navel, following a trail to the treasure below. Alex's cock was a dark red in the cold and when Walter's mouth engulfed the head, he cried out. As Walter began to slide up and down in a lewd, outright motion, he bucked against him and broke out with alternately incoherent entreaties and curses. The heat of Walter's mouth was like a hot, wet glove wrapped tightly around him and he couldn't stand it. Shuddering, he gasped, "I can't—I'm gonna—oh god—"

Walter didn't let up, merely sucked harder, and then Alex was thrashing ineffectually, with strangled cries, his hot fluid spilling out onto Walter's tongue. Walter drank him in, all of it, everything, the contrast of the cold and heat of their bodies, the salt and the bitter taste of him, the joy and the sadness of brushing away yet a little more of Alex's loneliness. There was so much. So new. The lightness of the sky and the whiteout of the overcast winter clouds. The rushing noise and buzz in their ears of the silence that surrounded them. And finally, as he let Alex's drained and tired cock slip from between his lips, Walter looked up at the face of the panting creature he'd subdued.

"Guess I caught me something after all," he said, in a low voice.

"God. Fuck," Alex breathed. "I'm... that was..."

"Yeah, yeah. They all say that afterwards. Get your breath back," he ordered, with a smile.

Alex lifted his head, seeing Walter's still-erect state. "Oh, yeah. Right." He sank back, taking a few gulps of air. "Sure thing, Walt. Lay down."

Walter was waiting for him and finally Alex sat up with another grin. Then pounced, holding him down. "Games, huh? The hunter becomes the hunted. Let's see what you've got, big man."

"Come on, I'm not that big," protested Walter.

Alex snorted with derision. "Yeah, right. You forget last night I had that monster up my ass; believe me, I couldn't help but notice." And he squirreled backwards until he was face to face with the cock in question.

Slowly and deliberately teasing him, Alex ran his tongue lightly along its length, allowing it to cool rapidly. He didn't take his mouth away for one instant, yet kept it wet all over until Walter was moaning. Meanwhile, his hand was rolling his balls gently, enjoying the heavy weight of the sac.

"Jesus, damn it—Alex! Just do it, already! It's freezing out here!"

With a wicked chuckle, Alex finally went down on him, letting the engorged and straining cock have the relief of being enveloped in the heat of his mouth. With a few practiced sucks and with the head right against the back of his throat, suddenly Walter was coming, filling his mouth with the bitter, salty flood. He swallowed, repeatedly. Then licked his cock clean, until Walter was begging him to stop for the sensitivity, particularly in the cold.

Panting, Walter said, "God damn, boy; if you can give head like that, there's no way you're leaving! I'll keep you tied up in the basement if you try to go. That's a promise."

They pulled up their pants; the cold of the wind was too chill and biting to keep themselves bare for long. And then Alex was lying atop Walter, hugging him desperately, tightly. "I can't believe this is really happening," he said in a raw voice. "I keep thinking I'll wake up and it'll all just be a dream. But I can't think where I would've come up with this good a dream!"

Walter found himself awkwardly trying to pet him, to soothe him. "I know how you feel; I do, believe me, I do."

A whuffing sound to their right suddenly disturbed them and lifting their heads, they tried to find out where it was coming from. As they sat up they found themselves face to face with a large moose, about ten feet away. It stared at them and they stared back.

It seemed they were in a stalemate. The moose had wandered up on them because it had been concentrating on the grass, not expecting to find them there. And of course they had thought they would have noticed the approach of something that huge out here.

It was a very big creature. Very big. Up close, it seemed larger than life. It was a bull, and mature, with an impressive rack of antlers. They did the only thing they could do. They sat, not daring to move.

Unfortunately, the moose had the same idea. Time stood still.

With remarkable presence of mind and alacrity, born of years of self-preservation and assassin-honed instinct, Alex suddenly swung his rifle up and aimed true, straight for the heart, and pulled the trigger before Walter could react. Before the moose could react. Next thing they knew, the moose had jumped upwards into the air with the impact and was running.

But the poor creature was doomed. It was running blindly in a direction off to the side, and made it only a few yards before collapsing in a heap.

Alex collapsed anew on the ground, staring up at the sky, panting. "Fuck," he muttered. "Great country, Walter. Thanks for taking me out here. Nothing like a taste of the real thing, first-hand! Stags, blow jobs and near-death experiences."

"This would happen the first time I bring you out here," observed Walter, in a nearly accusatory tone.

"Oh? What happened the first time Mulder came out here?"

"Everything went smoothly. I had to take out the deer. But everything went fine. Smooth."

Alex grinned at him, in a very good approximation of the wolf Walter had likened him to. "What do you mean? The moose is dead. I took him out. We're fine, everything's great. It did go smoothly."

"Alex. You're supposed to lie in wait and then shoot them from farther away, not wait for them to walk up and step on you. He could have attacked and gored us."

"Hey, it's me, here. You forget my training, my abilities."

Walter shook his head, climbing to his feet. "It was a wild bull moose, Alex. Beginner's luck."

"What?!" Alex's exclaimed indignantly.

They were still arguing about it when they returned to the house, hours later. It took a while to cut up the animal and get it packed. They had taken as much as they could and worked fast, especially motivated by Walter's warning that the smell and the blood would attract bears and other predators. And of course dragging the meat back had been a heavy and dangerous undertaking. Then there was the task of loading it into the vehicle.

When they climbed wearily out and made it up to the steps of the front porch, Mulder came out to greet them. Taking in their bloody appearance, he smiled grimly. It took them all some time to get the meat unpacked and into the freezers.

It was already growing dark by the time they washed the stench and grime away, changed their clothes and gathered in the kitchen for a meal.

As they sat at the table downing potatoes and gravy, burgers and peas, Walter declared, "Next time I'm going hunting alone."

Mulder threw him a look. "What, you didn't get enough? The freezers are stuffed, Walt. Why would you need to go out again?"

"Between you being unable to hit anything and Alex waiting until we see the whites of their eyes, it's a miracle that I'm still alive and that we have any meat at all."

Alex grinned at him in reminder of why they hadn't heard the beast or seen its approach. "It wasn't all my fault."

Walter nodded sagely. "Distraction. No more distractions when I'm hunting."

"Distractions?" Mulder was none the wiser but he had caught the undercurrent of their words.

Walter fixed Alex with a mock glare. "Yes. He can't shoot living creatures it seems, unless they're about to run over him. Life threatening situations; survival, self-defense... Right, Alex?"

Mulder stopped and regarded Alex with surprise.

Alex was suddenly more interested in his food.

"I guess we underestimated you," Mulder said, in way of apology to him.

"Don't worry about it," Alex replied, still not looking up, obviously anxious to leave it alone.

"The only thing I really don't like is the amount we had to leave behind. What a waste." Walter didn't like leaving as much as they had.

"Well, think of it this way—it isn't really a waste because about right now, a pack of wolves and a couple of dancing bears are tucking into it," Mulder said, helping himself to the gravy.

"What about cougars?" Alex asked.

Walter lifted a brow and nodded. "Possibly."

"Yeah, if you hear a scream that sounds like a woman being murdered? It's probably a mountain lion. We heard one this summer." Mulder frowned at the memory. "It was blood-curdling."

They continued to share past encounters they'd had with the local animals with Alex until Walter began yawning expansively.

"I'm fading fast, here," he said, taking in the time on the wall clock. "It's after eight. I'm going to get in some reading and then hit the sack. It was quite a day."

"Yeah. Hacking up moose isn't all it's cracked up to be," commented Alex.

As Walter got up and stretched, left the table to wander into the living room and settle himself with his book, Alex and Mulder began to clear the dishes away. They worked well together, quickly and efficiently, anticipating each other's moves and not once coming to any disagreement about what to do or how to do it. In fact, it was slightly frightening; they made such a great team. As this dawned on Mulder, he found himself staring at the empty, submerged pot he was scrubbing.

Alex was drying dishes with a cloth. He noticed Mulder's frozen state. "What? What is it?"

"We work really well together."

"Yeah. We do." He looked around the kitchen. "So?"

Mulder chewed his lower lip and looked up at him. "We're good partners. We team up well."

Not knowing how to reply to that, Alex looked away, down at the dishes on the draining board and returned to drying them and putting them away by trial and error. If he didn't find the obvious place for the item, he placed it on the table for a more thorough search afterwards.

Mulder resumed his own scrubbing, although he was far from discarding this notion and continued to think on it. Partnership. The reason Alex's original betrayal had hurt so much was that Mulder had found himself wanting to believe he was sincere. He didn't have to explain everything all the time like he did with Scully, and Alex had seemed eager, sympathetic to his ideas. It all seemed so far away now.

It didn't take long before the kitchen was done. Alex quietly excused himself and went upstairs.

Mulder sat down at the kitchen table. He didn't resent the fact that Walter had offered as much to Alex as he had. In fact, he was surprised that he wasn't upset about it at all. Perhaps it was because he was so sure of his own place with Walter that he couldn't see Alex as anything but a distraction up until now. With Walter, that is. For himself... god. It was more than a blow to his world, it was a stick of dynamite in his reality. Not to mention his pants... he was sick of sprouting a boner every time Alex entered the room. He rubbed his face with both hands, tiredly.

He could no longer pretend even to himself that he didn't want him. He felt assailed by disgust for his own embarrassment at feeling the desire, as well as the desire itself. How could he want Alex? Even though Walter had been able to take the steps in maturity towards forgiveness for what the man had done to him in the past, Mulder wasn't sure he could. And his own attraction to him muddied the water. He wanted Alex Krycek. Fiercely. Badly. He tried to remember when it had started. He couldn't. All he knew was that somewhere along the way, rage and hurt had been joined with the desire and he felt angry that he couldn't tell when or how it had smuggled itself in.

He doubted very much that simply fucking him was going to defuse the outstanding issues between them. If he thought about it any deeper, he always came to the same barrier. His father's murder, Scully's abduction— a host of numerous other crimes and painful episodes that he'd suffered and in which Alex Krycek had somehow been implicated in, on whatever level.

He could hardly dismiss all of that. How could he defuse the issues without dismissing them? If he focused on any single one of them, he felt rage rise like bile and he wanted to bite his tongue to stop himself from getting up in anger from where he sat. Why was sex and hatred both so tied up in his reactions to the man?

And why, how, could the ratbastard actually propose that he 'loved' him? That was somehow terrifying to him. He'd always thought that Krycek had a thing for him, ever since he'd kissed him that night he gave him the tip about the Rebel leader held at Wiekamp Base. He'd thought it another Krycek mind-fuck special, a production for Mulder's benefit; a means of confusing him and making him wonder at Krycek's motives and his own reasons for the kiss. What it came down to in the end was that he'd gone merely on Krycek's word, sealed with his kiss and the fact he'd given him back his gun, leaving himself wide open for Mulder's shot at the time.

It was true; every time they met up, he'd gone for Krycek and the man had never done anything to hurt him back, had only protected himself where he could, in self-defense. If Krycek, no, Alex, had done it because he was 'in love with him?'... that definitely changed the perspective. It meant that what Alex had confessed the day before, during his spanking, had been exactly as it sounded; that he believed he didn't have a chance with Mulder, not for forgiveness or acceptance. Maybe for sex, but only tolerated in their life here. Just because Walter took him under his wing didn't make it a foregone conclusion that Mulder would, nor did it mean that he believed him.

He sighed. Walter was right. He needed to talk with him, without falling back into his usual reaction of hitting him just because he didn't like the way he felt towards him.

He got up and went into the living room. Walter was asleep in his chair, his glasses perched precariously. He shook him gently. "Walt, hey, Walt— why don't you go upstairs?"

Walter took a deep breath. And stretched. "Yeah, I think I will. Thanks. Hey, what about you?" He regarded him sleepily. "Are you going to... what are you going to do?"

Mulder sat down near him, on the couch. Quietly, he said, "I need to talk with him but I don't want... Walt, I can't just forgive him. Not just like that. I mean, the things he's done, and everything. I can't."

Walter looked at him. Took another breath, looked about the room and said, "Look, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but I think it might help. Yesterday, he began to respond to the punishment, as in he found it... exciting. At first. And, I think that if you were to use that, as you said, to let him know he's lowest in the pecking order here... or something. Make a statement with it. He may not trust you to do that, because he knows you hit him in anger. But then, there's the dynamic you two have, the tension you still share that hasn't been taken care of. It might be one way of dealing with it."

Mulder exhaled. "Walt, I don't think I could do that and have it be the release you're suggesting. I'm too likely to—to use it as a way of, well, a justified means of hitting him. You know?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of, too. But then again, you'd be punishing him in an acceptable form for things you feel he deserves punishment for. Instead of just blindly lashing out at him. If you could get him to agree with the reasoning of that. It's only a suggestion. I think we've shared enough in our own relationship that you've learned where the line is, don't you?"

Mulder considered this. "I'm still not sure I can trust myself to keep from crossing that line, though."

"If you accept the responsibility of it, once you have him over your knee, I promise you'll feel differently. The power of it will make it feel different to you. You'll know exactly where the line is and you'll know not to cross it. It's not the same as indulging in a loss of temper the way you usually do."

Mulder snorted. "I'm not you. I'm not that good with responsibility, you know that. You should be the one punishing him."

"Fox, I hate to tell you this but I can spank you—I can't spank him. Not in the same way; sure, I can punish him if he does something wrong, but the only punishment that works with him, if I'm to administer it, is kindness. It's the affection. Love—he isn't used to being loved or cared for. It makes him... vulnerable. And I think I've done him a disservice in revealing that to you. You'd better make damn sure not to betray my trust in you by abusing that."

Mulder closed his eyes and swallowed; he sighed. "Okay. I won't. I'll remember, and keep that as my boundary, alright?"

Walter nodded with approval. "Good. And remember: whatever you believe, he's still a wounded man. Push him too far and he'll run. I mean it, Fox. We have a chance to help him heal, and to heal ourselves. Don't screw it up over a matter of pride, okay? Whatever he's done, you can be the bigger man by actually turning the other cheek. I know that's hard for you, given what he's done. But I don't think he had many better choices to make. It could easily have been you in his position if you'd been handed the same choices. In the beginning, I mean."

Mulder snorted. "Right. Whatever. I won't push it. I won't."

Walter sighed and stood up. "Today was kind of rough, and yesterday was ridiculous. Please don't let's have any scenes tonight? Fox? I'm begging you here. I don't want to find you at his throat again."

Mulder sighed and grinned up at him. "Walt. Trust me. I'll handle it. Get some sleep." He stood, reached over and let himself be pulled into Walter's expansive embrace.

"Fox, I'm proud that you made it this far. I really am." Walter's voice held a note of relief.

"You should be; I'm making sterling efforts. Just for you." Mulder was grinning.

"I love you," Walter said, leaning back and regarding him at arm's length.

"And I love you, Walt," Mulder said, with a warm smile that might have been mistaken as cheeky. "Get some sleep. I'll take care of our errant guest."

Walter leaned in and kissed him goodnight; they clung to each other briefly until Walter was wracked by another yawn and chuckling, he went for the stairs.

Mulder sat down heavily on the couch once more. Walter closed the door to his bedroom upstairs. There wasn't a single sound from Kry—Alex's room. Considering, he went upstairs himself, to his own room. He sat on the edge of his bed, wondering if he trusted himself to visit the man next door without losing his temper. Then berated himself. Of course he could. All he had to do was stop feeling embarrassed about wanting him. Alex wanted him, didn't he?

He realized that just hearing that Alex loved him wasn't enough; in fact, that was open to interpretation. Alex thought he hated him; true enough, he did, well, had for a long time. And Alex thought he wasn't good enough for him... The memory from yesterday, of the tearful sobs, the pain in his voice, the hopelessness in his eyes and the yearning expression that told him he dared not even ask, every time he looked at him since...

Fuck, who was he kidding. The man was in love with him. He stood up and decided to go before he lost his nerve. There was something irresistible about knowing that someone felt that way for him. Would do anything...

He'd been waiting all day for this. Why should he worry about going through with it, now? He wondered if what he were actually afraid of was Alex refusing him, not wanting to go through with it.

Leaving his room, he crept to stand outside Alex's door and tapped on it quietly. There was no reply. "Alex?" he called, keeping his voice down. There was still no sound. Mulder sighed. Oh well. He had tried. He slowly began to walk back down the hall and ended up going downstairs.

There, with the only light in the room coming from the fireplace, Alex was sitting in his armchair. He looked up as Mulder entered the room. A wary look stole onto his face and he immediately tensed. "Hey."

"What're you doing down here?" Mulder asked him.

A little frown crossed over him. "Don't want to sleep. Besides, it's too early."

Mulder sat down in the couch. "Nightmares?"

"Don't," Alex started, "don't patronize me."

Mulder looked him over in the flickering light, thoughtfully sucking a tooth. He reached into the bowl of sunflower seeds and began his little ritual. Nibbling, he said, "Thank you for these. I appreciate it. No, I do; really."

Alex looked away. "There's too much left unsaid, Mulder. I don't want—"

Mulder interrupted him. "Fox. You can call me Fox. It's only us here."

Alex stared back at him briefly before turning away. "Aren't you tired? I am. So fucking tired." He kept his gaze on the fire. "Of everything."

Mulder regarded him thoughtfully. "I have a proposition for you."

"I'm not your houseboy, Mul—" he stopped. "I won't be. Not for you, not here. Not now and not ever."

"You haven't even heard it yet," Mulder said in a teasing voice. When Alex didn't reply, he continued, "Amnesty and a complete pardon, in exchange for a punishment session. With me," he added, to make that clear.

Alex turned to him in disbelief. "From houseboy to whipping-boy, huh? No, thanks; I'll pass."

"Think about it, Alex. I'll forgive everything you've ever done, if you let me do that. I mean, shit rolls downhill, right? Walt gets to spank me— and so I get to spank you. Just this once. This one time only, I promise. And I won't attack you or hit you anymore, that's over and done. I give you my word on this."

Alex flared in anger. "Why?! What is about me that everyone thinks it can all be straightened out with a simple spanking?"

Mulder grinned at him, at the way he'd left it so wide open. "I dunno, Alex. Maybe it's your ass? It does kind of attract attention, you know."

Alex let out a frustrated breath. "I felt stupid enough laid out over Walter's lap. If you think I'm going over yours, you're wrong."

"A complete and total pardon," Mulder repeated. He spread his hands. "Hey, I can wait, if it's too soon. I understand; I had a taste of it myself yesterday, remember? He's got a heavy hand."

Alex snorted. "I can take it. That was nothing."

"Yeah? Well, you're probably right. My butt's more delicate than yours, I guess. Still, there's no reason for you to decline my offer then, Alex."

"Stop calling me that!" Alex ground out in frustration.

Mulder was taken aback. "What—you want me to call you 'Krycek'?"

"No! Just—" Alex stopped, not wanting to elaborate further. He winced and put his hand to his face. How could he explain what it did to him to hear Mulder call him that? In any tone of voice, rather than the cold inflection he used before, when saying 'Krycek'... his heart was beating too fast and he was afraid that if Mulder kept using that friendly—even kind —and gentle tone of voice he was going to break down into tears in front of him. And that was simply and wholly unacceptable. "Look, I'm tired, okay? Not tonight. I can't; I don't want to deal with this right now."

"How about tomorrow?"

Alex let his head drop backwards and he laughed almost soundlessly. "Damned if I know. I guess if I'm still here and it's the only option I have, I could put up with it. Sure." He lifted his head and regarded him, puzzled. "Why? I mean, why just that? How is that going to help clear things between us?"

"As an arrangement, and as an honorable one that we both accept." Mulder's tone was entirely too reasonable.

Alex's eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin to regard him suspiciously now. "Did Walter put you up to this?"

"Not exactly. I did talk with him. But I need something to give me closure where you're concerned and I don't think just an apology from you, a handshake and another kiss on the cheek is going to make it all better."

"So that's your price? The cost of forgiveness sure is cheap, from you."

"Hey, take it or leave it." Mulder stopped, and added meaningfully, "Alex."

Alex sucked in a breath. "Alright then, Fox. I accept. But no restraints. I can't do this with cuffs or anything."

"Did I mention any?" Mulder said, reprovingly.

Alex was shaking his head. "I've got to be out of my fucking mind."

"Join the club. You've been driving me out of mine," Mulder said, and then bit his lip, wondering exactly what he'd just said. Oh well, never mind.

Alex regarded him curiously at that, his eyes glittering before he turned away. Suddenly it dawned on him: it had been bad enough when he'd been across Walter's lap... he'd gotten so hard... how the hell was he supposed to lay over Mulder's knees without... Why, just being here in the man's presence was enough to make him hard. "No," he said, swiftly. "No, I can't do this. I can't agree to that, what you're offering. I can't."

Mulder realized it wasn't panic in his voice; it was something else. "Why not?" he asked, out of sheer curiosity.

Alex drew a silent breath. And closed his mouth. He wondered what he stood to lose by admitting it. And thought: oh well, what the hell. "Because it won't be," he hesitated, "a punishment."

Mulder was glad Walter had confided in him earlier. He immediately knew what Alex was talking about. Now, how to get around this without revealing that? "Why not?"

"Because it's no different to any other time you've hit me in the past." Alex knew he had a point. Just not the one he really meant.

Mulder nodded in agreement. "I know. But this is under controlled conditions."

Alex laughed, once, derisively. "You don't believe that any more than I do."

Mulder shrugged. "Okay, have it your way. I would have thought that a simple spanking, consisting of, oh, say—fifty swats, would clear matters between us? Seems a small price to me, considering."

Damn it... they were still only discussing it and Alex was already sporting a very stiff erection he didn't need right now. For god's sake, how was he supposed to do this?

Mulder had noticed. Alex might have felt better if he knew that Mulder was, too. Mulder, however, was more used to being erect in Alex's presence. He felt a little like Pavlov's dog—place him near Alex and woof! There we go: lift-off. He was gradually getting used to it and right now it was almost ignorable. He was too curious to see which way Alex would go.

Alex bit his lower lip. Maybe he was being silly for turning down this offer. Christ, everything forgiven, for that? What he'd had to go through since arriving here... was all this really worth it? Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. Hoarsely, he said, "Alright. Alright!" And sighed. Quickly, he asked, "Where are we going to do this? Here? Right now?"

Mulder wondered what had made him decide to accept. "Yeah, here and now, if that's okay with you."

"It isn't, but we might as well get it over with," Alex growled, standing.

Mulder sat up straight on the couch, suddenly taken aback. He found himself wondering if he was ready for this, right now. Why not? Maybe because he wasn't sure he could stop himself from jumping Alex if the man were to come while being punished across his knees. He thought perhaps they should wait; after all, Walter was sleeping upstairs... and then realized this was probably easier for Walt to overhear than Alex's screaming during his nightmares the night before last.

He kept his knees apart and patted his left knee. "Lean over this one, against the edge of the couch, here. Right over the seat. Uh, without the pants, Alex," he reminded him.

Alex swore to himself and undid his pants, pushing them down roughly and quickly kneeling to lean over his left knee and thigh, which was right up against the edge of the couch. Alex wondered at the position and then found himself offering a deeply relieved prayer of thanks up to some unknown deity —this way, his arousal would be pressed up against the side of the couch, not directly in contact with Mulder's leg.

Then had to suppress a gasp as Mulder's left hand reached down to pull his briefs down too, exposing his tightened buttocks. The red stain from the previous day had faded already; there were a few lines of welts still but they were healing fast. It was true that Alex healed quickly, and could take probably twice the amount of punishment that Mulder could.

A shiver ran through Alex though, and left him trembling slightly. "Damn it, just get on with it!" he said, brusquely.

Needled slightly, Mulder lifted his hand and brought it down with a crack. Alex didn't move in the slightest. Mulder began to swat him seriously, counting them in his head, letting his hand fly fast and furious.

Soon, there was a dark blush on the perfect mounds of Alex's ass; Mulder could only imagine the actual color in better light. The firelight wasn't enough to illuminate it properly. He kept at it though, slapping and punishing that perfect skin, enjoying the way Alex twitched involuntarily at first, and then began little squirming motions as if trying to avoid his hand.

Alex was making small noises, in his throat, wishing he wasn't pushed right up against the couch. Every time Mulder's hand landed on his ass, his cock was pressed harder against it with each contact. Much more of this and he didn't think he could withstand it.

Having him leaning over his leg was so good... Mulder's hand began to hurt and he suddenly realized what Walt had to go through. He stopped at forty, breathing hard, and enjoying the way Alex moved, expecting the next one.

When it didn't land, Alex grew nervous. He was so hard, his cock was dripping. "Mulder—Fox, are we done?"

"Not quite. You've got ten more," Mulder said softly. "Are you enjoying this, Alex?"

"No, I'm not. And if you don't mind, I'd like to take the rest now?" Alex was sardonic but he was still shaking slightly.

"I think you're lying, Alex. Are you lying?"

"No!" And he wasn't; he didn't want to be so hard, so achingly hard from having Mul—Fox's hand touching him, however hard and stinging it was...

Mulder licked his lips. "Are you hard?"

Jesus Christ. Alex felt annoyed now. Not to mention humiliated. Maybe that was idea, though. And in a small voice, he replied, "Yes." But at this point he was so goddamned hard he didn't care what Fox thought.

"I'll make a deal with you," Mulder said. "If you haven't come by the time we're through here, I'll suck you off myself."

A bolt of pure want rocked through Alex and he roughly answered, "Sure thing." Breathing hard, he waited.

Mulder quickly landed several more slaps to his already-ablaze butt cheeks, and waited a good three seconds between each of the last five.

His hand smarted. And curious, he traced his fingers over the reddened skin, making Alex move once more, as they trailed tiny fire licks across the punished surface, so hot, so red.

He pulled his briefs up over them then, and helped Alex climb onto his knees before him, and then regarded him, kneeling before him as he was. Mulder couldn't wait any longer. He lunged forward, pulling him against him and mashing their lips together, sucking and devouring Alex's mouth. With a stifled whimper, Alex returned it with as much intensity. Tearing himself away, Mulder said raggedly, "Get up on the couch. Now."

Alex did so, shaking, barely noticing the fire that raked across his bottom as he quickly pulled down his briefs all the way down past his knees and sat down on the couch. Was he really going to do this? Oh god, just... he had to be dreaming. Had to be.

Mulder was on his knees in front of him, running his hands along his thighs, touching his flanks, his waist. Then trailing an admiring hand over his skin to touch his drawn-up balls. Mulder placed another hand on the hard, weeping cock before him, wondering how he had managed to ignore how much he wanted him until now. It leapt in his hand and Alex gave a strangled little moan. "G-god, please, Fox, please... Fox!"

Awkwardly, Alex reached down his own hand and placed it in Mulder's hair, not hard, just urging.

Leaning forward, Mulder pressed his face into the join of Alex's thigh and crotch; nosing him. The fresh fragrance of the warm tufted hair was intoxicating. He wanted to just lay there and bury his nose; but he didn't want to delay. He made up his mind to remember to do this later, when Alex was too tired and satiated to care. If he lingered too long Alex might get the impression he was enjoying it rather too much at his expense. A deal was a deal, after all. He grinned and closed his eyes. And opened his mouth, taking him in.

Alex felt like all the blood had rushed out of his head and was now journeying in a mass exodus to his groin. He couldn't help the moans and groans that were induced with each lick of Mulder's tongue, each time the head of his cock was slid through those lush lips.

He opened his eyes to the sight of a happy Fox peering up at him from beneath warm, dark eyes that made his fingers itch to capture his face and stroke the eyelids, trace along his brows. Mulder's tongue was twirling around the crown of his cock like it was candy and his slight smile as he did so made him look impish, leaving no doubt as to how much he was enjoying this.

He couldn't bear the sight; he should really have kept his eyes closed, he would have lasted longer. As it was, the view of Mulder's mouth sucking on him expertly was enough to make him tense and shove himself forward in jerking thrusts, unable to stop himself, as he felt the energy and all his conscious thought begin to race along the same path his blood had taken earlier—straight out his cock and into the waiting mouth that sucked it all down. He couldn't help the muffled shriek that he emitted as he came, quite beyond recognition as his own voice.

When he came to, he was having difficulty catching his breath. And Mulder was saying, "Hey, Alex. That's pretty impressive."

And the admiration in his tone was just—just—enough to make Alex feel that he'd done something right somehow and to his alarm, and frustrated shame, he began to cry again. It just wasn't fair. He couldn't even enjoy orgasms anymore without tears. Fuck it all. What had Walter done to him?! It was like some kind of dam broke and now he had become this weepy, wet thing that couldn't even handle a blow job... But then, this was Fox Mulder who'd just swallowed his load... Talk about a wet dream come true. He just wished it had meant as much to Fox as it did to him.

Suddenly he wished he were upstairs, outside, somewhere else, anywhere but here. It was just sex, wasn't it? To seal the deal—punishment enough. He turned his face to the side. Well, it was punishment, indeed, for him. And he would have stood, would have risen to leave if it weren't for the fact that Mulder was nuzzling against him once more, moving up, leaning in to kiss him, to lick at his face, lick away his tears. Mulder drew back, thoughtfully, at the taste of them.

It was delicious; the taste of salt, of tears, sweat and come, a cocktail of oral sensation that made his cock twitch and stiffen even more eagerly. Mulder knew what he wanted. He slid out of Alex's lap now and pulled the thick bearskin rug closer to the fire. And began taking off his clothes.

Alex jerked his head up as he realized what he was doing. He wiped his eyes. What the hell—?

Mulder was naked in the firelight, his skin burnished and glowing. He looked like a magnificent animal, all supple and toned. Alex found it speechlessly beautiful to see him like this; it was like being treated to a vision he never thought he'd be allowed to witness.

Mulder lay down upon the rug, voluptuously, his cock waving in the air like a trophy. He murmured, "Alex, get your ass over here."

Alex got up, unsteadily, and went to join him, pulling off his own clothes until he was as naked, and sinking down beside him. He lay upon his back, in the same position. Mulder leaned up on one elbow, his gaze raking hotly and possessively over him, leaving him feeling slightly flayed. Finally, with a scowling twist of his lips, Mulder said, "We're going to need lube, I think. I'll be right back. Don't move," he shook a finger at him as he climbed to his feet and then practically ran upstairs to disappear into the bathroom.

Alex lay beside the fireplace, feeling the heat as though it were the flames themselves licking at him. How had this happened? When did it turn and change into something else? He felt strange, as though he had taken some unknown drug. He turned and watched the fire dance and leap. I asked for this, he thought, and I got what I wanted. Maybe I did die somewhere along the line and this is heaven. Or I'm dreaming and it's under the influence of some chemical substance... But reality remained in place and the fire was hot. In fact, he didn't realize how tired he was until now.

Next thing he knew, Mulder had returned and was laughing, sniggering through his teeth at him as he crouched beside him. "Hey, wake up. I found it. Turn over."

Oh. The knowledge of what Mulder wanted was enough to rouse him abruptly. Ah well. It was only fair, after what Mulder had done for him, he supposed. He rolled over, and was immediately clambered upon by Mulder who was obviously very intent upon slathering his crack with plenty of lube, his fingers swiftly opening him and sliding in and out of him. He gasped at the intrusion, and wondered just how difficult this was going to be. He realized too that anything at all was good, as long as it was Fox.

But Mulder was not in the mood to waste any time, having waited already throughout the entire time he'd been sucking Alex. He wanted him. Now. He quickly moved into position, sliding his cock into his tight asshole with one swift motion, spearing him with a few inches. Alex gasped again, louder, and couldn't help moaning with a terrifying sensation of simultaneous pain and pleasure. Mulder began a hard, rocking swell against him, pushing inside of him deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It felt barbaric, almost ritual. He was claiming him; the teeth Alex suddenly felt in the back of his neck brought this sharply into focus for him. That long, hard length was pressing against his prostate with every plunge and bump, and now the tightness of his ass as well as the level of urgency Mulder had been brought to finally peaked out and Mulder was shoving into him repeatedly with loud shouts. Mulder was then abruptly shuddering atop him, shooting inside of him with quick, hard little thrusts, and the sounds Mulder made ignited something inside him, as well as the repeated pressure on his gland from that battering cock... and when Mulder's hand reaching down to grab his own stiffened penis, he came, again. Not as hard as before, certainly. The keen edge had been taken off it, particularly as he'd already been with Walter earlier that day, too. But it was still lovely, luscious, long, protracted and deliciously sweet.

He was bent over, open-mouthed, breathing in gasps as Mulder panted over him. Finally, he had to move. He tried to pull to one side only to have Mulder wrap his legs and arms about him more tightly. "Where do you think you're going?" Mulder growled.

"Please, Fox, I have to move. I'm getting squashed here. Just let me up; I'm not going anywhere."

Mulder reluctantly let him move to one side and lay back down beside him on the rug.

Alex sighed to himself. He didn't want this to end. "Are we clear then? Everything, between us?"

"Yeah, for now."

A warning went off in his head. "For now?"

Mulder grinned. " You're going to be paying it off over time, for as long as you're here. Your ass is mine, Alex. For good. "

Alex's eyes narrowed. "Fine. So is my heart."

Mulder shifted beside him, getting more comfortable. "What do you mean?"

"Walter told you, didn't he?"

Mulder sniffed and frowned a little. "Told me what?"

"That being spanked by either of you turns me on. It never has before, with anyone else."

"Oh, that. Yeah. He said he felt he'd betrayed you by telling me; please don't blame him. But he only told me so that I would know where the line was, so I could do it with the proper level of responsibility."

"Bunch of crap," Alex said, but he smiled slightly.

"Yeah, I think so too. See, I was listening outside the door when you were with Walt yesterday."

Alex didn't really know how to take that at first. Then he began to remember exactly what it was he'd said in there... And he muttered, "Damn it, that was private, Fox." God, how could he stand this. It wasn't fair.

"Well, did you ever intend to tell me?"

Alex was still. Finally, he said, "No."

"And I know Walt wouldn't have told me. I'd say I was lucky to overhear."

"S-so where does that leave 'us'?"

"I guess—that you love me, and I'm in love with you. Sound okay to you?"

His eyes dropped, almost filled again. And he bit his lower lip suddenly, trying to stifle the overwhelming hope and tenderness that went over him at this. Alex turned onto his side, so he could touch him. He lifted his hand to stroke Mulder's forehead, his cheek, the line of his jaw. "It was never my decision. It's always been up to you."

"Well, it's time we changed that, isn't it?" Mulder looked uncomfortable, with that subtle reference to the past.

Alex smiled sadly, a little indulgently. "I think the moment I fell I love with you was when I saw you again in Hong Kong. Remember, in Kallenchuk's office? Everything after that happened so fast... but I think that's when it was. I just remember thinking it was so good to see you again, even though things were so bad."

Mulder grinned a little shamefacedly. "I think I enjoyed grinding you into that phone bank a bit too much. But I don't think I actually loved you until I saw you get out of that truck. When you'd joined that militia group? I was so upset about your hair. I couldn't believe how short it was. I hated it. Of course, by then, I was so angry I didn't really want to let myself feel anything else." He stopped. "Listen, Alex... I'm sorry for hurting you." He looked right into his eyes, not avoiding him. "I didn't want to want you."

Alex smiled without humor briefly. "I know. I'm sorry too. Just, I never thought we'd end up here. I keep thinking I'll wake up."

Mulder pulled him closer and luxuriated in the feel of their bodies pressed tight against each other, naked, in the firelight. "Then sleep with me. Until we both do." And he placed his arms around him, holding him. Stroking him. They fell asleep like that, murmuring and holding, just being... Together.

###

Sunflower Seeds III: Storm

Jamiwilsen@hotmail.com

Date: 11/15/2000
Disclaimer: this piece of slash fanfic is written purely for entertainment purposes; all characters and X-File series' situations referred to belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, etc.
Spoilers: possibly all eps up to, but not including, Season 8.
Rating: NC-17 ­ slash,language, m/m sex, bondage (eventually), discipline
Pairing: Sk/M/K
Summary: Skinner and Mulder continue to enjoy R&R (retirement and rest) with the addition of Krycek. Skinner can forgive Krycek for the past but can Mulder?
Warning: This is the second part of my Loving Discipline series! If angst, explicit sex, emotional disclosures, consensual mild punishment, and tender declarations of love stress you out, still don't read this. [g]
Betas: Grateful thanks to Cattnip, and especially to Jas—who tirelessly continues to monitor my hyphen addiction and exasperating tendency of sprinkling commas wherever my fancy deems they should be!
Jas, thank you so much! I'm forever grateful. J
Dedication: Another Thanks to my dear friend Lorelei for inspiration and being my armchair coach, as this is really part of the original series, and I dedicate this to her in the hopes she'll forget I dedicated it to her again and she'll write another hot, juicy apology snippet (hey, subtle or what?! ) [G].

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