|by Louise Wu|
Chemistry Book 1: Desired (Chapters 7-10)
For previous parts: http://slashfactory.com/Chem/Chemistry.html
** Mulder **
I wasn't sure he'd ever come back after that night. And that scared me. But he did return. A few nights later. Friday night.
I let him in, not sure where I wanted this to go. He helped himself to a place on the sofa. "Can we just talk, Mulder?" I could hear the tension in his voice.
"Okay," I said noncommittally. I joined him on the sofa, at a safe distance.
He turned to face me. "You know what I do..."
"Yeah, I fucking well know."
"You've known for a long time," he said tentatively.
"It didn't stop you from wanting to have sex with me, did it?"
"No. It should have, but it didn't." I resented him making me say it. I gave him a nasty smile. "Are you're complaining about how I've treated you?"
Krycek looked down. "I guess maybe I don't deserve any better."
"No, you don't," I replied. It felt good to say that.
"Then tell me to leave. Forever." He looked at me with sad eyes. "I'll do it if it's what you want."
And suddenly I knew I didn't want him to go and that only made me angrier. "Goddamn you, Krycek."
I reached for him. My hand behind his neck, I pulled us into a kiss. It was hot with my anger and his--I didn't know what he was feeling--fear? Self-loathing?
I unbuttoned his shirt and kissed him on the neck. He was looking at me like he was numb. We'd done this before. Turned our conflict into sex. It was exactly what I needed. I removed his shirt and bit his neck. My lips worked down to his pecs and I bit him there. Hard.
"Stop it, Mulder."
But my erection was calling. I was angry, but I wanted him. Now. Not later. I bit his lean stomach and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans.
"Stop it!" His voice was hard and loud.
With a jerk, I undid the rest of the buttons on his jeans and reached into his pants. He yanked himself away from me, and stood up.
"I can't do this anymore. We have to finish it."
Bastard. "What? What do you want, Krycek?"
He bit his lip and rubbed his bad shoulder with his hand, in a gesture I recognized as giving himself courage. "Ask me what you didn't ask me before."
"The question you never got around to the night you interrogated me. You know exactly what I mean. Ask me!" He was yelling louder than I was.
But I was madder. I stood up and faced him. "No, Krycek. You don't want me to ask that." I felt the surge of rising blood pressure in my body.
"Just fucking ask me!"
He didn't flinch as I stormed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. He held his face still. I was two inches away. "All right, you bastard." I'd already lost control, but I tried to regain it a little. "Did. You. Kill. My father?"
He didn't blink. "Yes, I killed Bill Mulder," Alex confessed in a quiet voice.
He didn't apologize or ask my forgiveness.
I threw him on the ground. I kicked him in the ribs. It felt so good to let go. For years I beat this man to hide my sexual attraction; lately I'd been fucking him to hide my rage.
I dropped down on him and punched him in the stomach. I punched him in the face. I kneed him in the groin. I released all my pent up feelings about my father: Losing him. Losing Samantha. Losing both my parents in their grief over Samantha. Blaming myself. Her wishing they'd taken me instead. Him looking at me like it was my fault Sam was gone. It felt so damned good to just let these feelings out. I kept hitting him until my anger began to dissipate. Then I shoved him away from me so I didn't have to look at his bloody body.
My knuckles were split. One of my sleeves was spattered with his blood. My breath was out of control. I reached for him again. He recoiled away from me into the corner. I felt another surge of anger.
I rolled toward him and reached out for his arm. I meant to hurt him, but I saw a flash of fear in those green eyes. It reminded me of my own fear.
I touched Alex's hand lightly to reassure myself that he was alive. It was warm. I stroked it tentatively with my fingers.
I heard a sound. A choke or a sob. I looked up at him. He was half crying with a wet cough. But he regained control of his breathing. When he spoke his voice was low and determined. "If you're not through... If you're ever going to hate me again, do it now. Get it over with." He bit back another sob. "Kill me if you have to, but... finish it. You fucking finish it."
I scooted over to him. He didn't try to get away this time. I held my face close to his and stroked him softly. I was in a daze. I don't know how long I sat there. I used my shirtsleeves to wipe the blood off his face. I was as gentle as I could be, but I could tell that it hurt him anyway.
I noticed that blood was still seeping from his nose. I thought idly that it was probably broken. Then I saw the way he was holding his torso. My rational mind broke through. He needed medical care.
I jumped up and found the phone. 911. "I need an ambulance." I gave them the address. "Abdominal injuries from a beating."
I grabbed a clean towel from the kitchen. I put the towel to his nose and had him hold it there. I looked at his chest, which was bloody from a cut over his right nipple. Under the blood I could see that his chest was red and bruising fast.
I got another towel and tried to mop at his chest, but he wouldn't let me. I continued to survey him. His arm looked okay. I'm glad I hadn't broken it; he'd have been completely helpless. His stump was bloody. That must have hurt badly. I wanted to wipe it clean, but I was afraid I'd just hurt him more.
We sat together quietly for a long time.
Then there was pounding on the door. A deep male voice, "Ambulance."
I ran and threw the door open. The EMT took one look at Alex and back at me. He knew I'd done this. Before I could even react, the medic was on the floor next to him.
A second man arrived with a gurney.
I followed them down to the front of my building and to the ambulance doors. They tucked him safely inside. I tried to enter, but the first man stopped me with a hand on my chest. "No," he said in a firm voice.
"Let him in," Alex barked at them.
The EMT looked at me like I was pond scum. I'd given many perps that look myself. The I'm-better-than-you look. But he allowed me inside.
I knelt by the gurney and held Alex's hand as the EMT kept ruthless watch over us.
They wouldn't let me in the emergency room, even after I showed my badge. I watched through the little window in the door. I could see that Alex was in a lot of pain. They seemed concerned about him and kept poking his chest and his abdomen.
Soon, the doors opened, but he wasn't even cleaned up. They hadn't fixed his nose. They were wheeling him out, ignoring me, but a young doctor or nurse saw the panicked look on my face. "He's going to surgery," she said.
I felt a tug on my arm and looked up into the face of a male nurse. "I need to get some information about the patient." He pulled me over to a desk and sat me down. He pulled out a clipboard with a long form on it. "What's his name?"
Oh, shit. "David. Uh, David... White."
I gave mine.
"Date of birth?"
"I don't know." I was numbing out again.
"Does he have health insurance?"
"I doubt it."
"Do you know anything about his medical history?"
"No. Except his arm. His left arm was... amputated." Like they couldn't figure that out themselves...
He made a note. "Do you know where he works?"
"Uh... He's between jobs right now."
He finished with me and I found the surgical wing. At the patient information desk, they told me it would be at least an hour before they had any news.
I sat on a bench and phoned Scully.
"Hi, Mulder." Her cheerful tone seemed abrasive.
"I'm at the hospital."
Worry fell into her voice. "Are you okay?"
I hesitated. "He got hurt. He's in surgery."
"Do you want some company?"
"Yeah. I'm in the surgical ward at George Washington."
She arrived about an hour later. She sat next to me and gave me a hug. "Is he okay?"
"He'll live." God, at least I'd assumed he would. "He was conscious when they took him to surgery."
"Your hands, your shirt, Mulder. Were you in a fight?" The gentle way she said it made me think she meant Alex and me fighting together against someone else.
I felt my eyes get wet. "I beat him up, Scully."
She swallowed hard. "Well... you've done that before." I watched her eyes look at my guilty face, flick to the door of the surgical suite and back again.
"No. Not like before. I completely lost it. I couldn't stop. I just kept hitting him."
"Why, Mulder? I thought you cared for him."
"He killed my father. He admitted it."
Scully's face tightened into a grimace. "I'm sorry, Mulder."
I had to tell her the rest. "He didn't even defend himself. He just let me beat him until he could barely move." I couldn't hold back the tears. She put her arms around me and I cried and cried.
In my head I just kept seeing him lying on the floor, bloody and hurt. I couldn't believe that I'd wanted to hurt him, but I had. My father's death didn't seem important anymore.
Scully misunderstood. "You must be very angry and hurt."
I shook my head, but I couldn't explain.
She sat with me for a long time. They wouldn't let me see him in the recovery room. I sent her home at 1 A.M. One of us had to sleep. Around 7 A.M. they moved him into a ward and told me I could see him.
He was woozy, but awake when I walked in. "You okay?" Alex asked, obviously with genuine concern about my welfare.
I just gaped at him. One of his eyes was black and red. His nose has a bulky bandage on it. He had an IV dangling from a very bruised arm. I couldn't see his chest. And he's asking me if I'm okay? I just shook my head.
"Don't do the guilt thing, Mulder." He shook his head at me. "Please."
I sat down on the edge of his bed. He took my hand and held it lightly. Tears welled up again.
"Mulder, please. I'm not... There are corpses out there who would gladly take this beating instead of what I did to them."
I examined his hurt face. How could I feel this way about a killer?
He continued and tried to make his voice sound hard. "And don't think I shed any tears for them."
But I had so many feelings I didn't want to feel for him. He was my dark twin. Until last night, when we traded places.
"I'm a thug, Mulder. I don't deserve this."
I forced back my tears, because I knew he needed me. "Shhh, Alex." I lay down next to him and took him into my arms as gently as I could.
I didn't get up until I heard a throat clearing from the doorway. "Excuse me, gentlemen." The queeniest male nurse sashayed in. "And how are you this morning," he said looking at Alex's chart, "David?"
Alex chuckled, then groaned and grabbed his stomach. "Shit," I heard him growl under his breath. I knew he was going to be okay.
I sat in his room all morning while he slept. I thought about what he'd said. He was a thug. I succeeded in pounding down my guilt to a manageable level, but I doubted that I would ever forgive myself.
I tried to read his chart, but couldn't decipher much of it. At the nurses' station, the effeminate nurse told me he had two broken ribs and some internal bleeding. Surprisingly, his nose wasn't broken. They'd patched him up and he'd probably go home in a couple of days. I phoned Scully and told her, just for something to do. I doubted that she was paralyzed with anxiety about the state of Alex's health.
I fidgeted around his room all day, not wanting to leave him alone. I fed him water. I read him articles from a magazine. I regaled him with facts about manatees from a Discovery Channel program. I watched him sleep. I paced the floor to save my body from chair torture. I rolled up my sleeves and washed my face. At last, after midnight, I fell asleep in the unoccupied bed next to his. I still got up every hour or so to make sure he was all right.
Alex was fine. They offered him painkillers, which he refused. He couldn't move much and the stump of his arm seemed to bother him. He told me to go home and get some sleep, but I couldn't.
On Sunday, mid morning, a policeman arrived. Alex blanched at the sight of the uniform, but he composed his face quickly.
"David White?" the cop asked.
I hoped Alex didn't have fingerprints on file. Then I realized that I knew he did. I'd registered them myself. 'Armed and dangerous.'
"I'm Officer Wolfe." He nodded at me. "You the man who brought him to the hospital?"
I knew it was a trick question. "Yes. Fox Mulder."
His voice contained the accusation. "I need you to step outside while I talk to Mr. White."
"No," Alex interjected in a tone that left no room for doubt. "I won't talk to you unless he stays."
Officer Wolfe eyed Alex with patronizing pity. He helped himself to the chair I'd been avoiding. "All right, Mr. White. Do you want to tell me what happened to you?" He kept an eye on me, perhaps expecting me to bolt.
I started to jump in. "I... let me explain." I had no idea what I was going to say.
"Shut up, Mulder," Alex said in a command voice.
Alex turned to the policeman. "Mulder and I were walking in the alley behind his apartment building. We were jumped by two men." He paused to give himself more time to make up details. I could see the wheels of deceit turning in his head. "Mulder, having two arms, faired a lot better than I did in the fight. Finally the men ran away and Mulder carried me up to his apartment."
The cop didn't believe it for a minute. "Nice story. You want to tell me what really happened?" He glanced at me, before glaring at Alex.
"I just did," Alex said and stared him down.
The cop lost the staring contest. "I don't suppose there would be any point in getting a description of the two men."
"It was dark." Alex was still staring at him, starting to make the cop tense.
He turned to me. "You have anything to add to that story?"
I wanted to tell the policeman the truth to unburden my guilt. Easy to see why Alex was the criminal and I was not. But I knew my confession wasn't going to improve our situation. And Alex didn't want to hear it. "No."
"Any objections to my taking your finger prints?"
I was utterly relieved that he hadn't asked Alex. I showed him my badge. "Take my badge number. They're on file."
He raised an eyebrow and wrote down the number. "I just want to make sure that there aren't any other battered men with your name on them."
And then Alex, who hadn't made a peep about any pain in the 24 hours he'd been there, offered forth with a pitiful moan. "Mulder, would you ask the nurse for more medication?"
"Sure." I glared at the cop who was blocking my path. He turned around and departed. I walked to the nurses' station and told the queenie one that Alex was feeling much better.
A doctor came by in the afternoon and pronounced David White fit to go home tomorrow. Afterward, I sat on the bed. "I'd like to take you back to my place. Do you have somewhere you'd rather go?"
"Is there someone else to take care of you? Someone I should call?"
"I'm sorry. I just want... I..." I trailed off and started again, "Will you let me take care of you?"
"As long as I don't have to eat your cooking."
I left voicemail for Skinner indicating that I would be out for a couple of days to take care of a sick friend.
I took Alex home and tried to do everything for him. I fed him (take out), changed his bandages, took him for walks (scenic tours of my apartment building) and entertained him (porn and sci fi videos). I'd have bathed him, too, but he wouldn't let me. I'd never cared for anyone like that. It was perverse, since I'd been the one to beat him up, but still it felt good to care for another human being.
After two days, Alex couldn't stand it anymore and insisted that I go to work on Wednesday. I made sure he had leftovers for lunch and headed to the Bureau. I called him six times during the day, but he was fine.
By the weekend, he was getting around pretty well on his own. I relaxed my attentions. He woke me up Sunday morning around 9 A.M.
"Mulder, wake up."
I was alert in an instant. "What do you need, Alex?"
** Mulder **
I felt his hand on my chest. "Sex."
I laughed at him. "How do you do that with broken ribs?"
"That's why I woke you up. You're going to have to give me a blow job."
"Well, I suppose if I have to..."
So I did. I propped him up with pillows so he could sit comfortably and put another pillow against his chest, to remind him not to move it. Then I gave him the first serious kiss in over a week. God, I'd missed the taste of his mouth.
I was somewhat amazed that he'd let me touch him intimately after what happened, but our relationship had always been filled with contradictions.
As I slid between his legs, I remembered something else I'd missed having in my mouth. I cupped his balls with my hand, just holding them in a gentle squeeze and went to work circling my tongue around the base of his cock.
After I got him moaning, I lapped at his big beautiful cock. I felt free. Oddly, for the first time, I felt truly free to enjoy his body and my own. It didn't occur to me until later what freedom I'd found--freedom from my own pent-up rage.
I nibbled the head of his cock as it pulsed in my mouth. I loved doing that to him. He was generally a stoic man, but when I did that he responded with a litany of sexy moans and assorted sounds of appreciation. After I'd tormented him for a while I took all of him into my mouth. I was still gagging now and then, but not too much. I liked the feel of him in my throat--this thick super-sensitive cock inside me. Each tiny movement I gave made him fall apart.
Alex called out, "Oh, yeah," as he started to come.
His cock spasmed in my mouth and he hugged the pillow to his chest, trying not to move.
As he came back down to earth, I toyed with his balls. "What are you going to do for me, Alex?"
"Look at you real hard?" he quipped. There was a lightness in him that I'd never seen before. Something inside him had changed too.
"That would probably do it." I pulled the pillow off the front of him and lay down next to him. "Think you can jack me off?"
He slid down so he was lying with his head on my chest. His hand reached for my dick. He talked to me while stroking my cock. "When I'm feeling stronger, I'm going to fuck you again. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"I have a fantasy. I find you in your office after hours. You've been there working since the wee hours of the morning."
He scooted his head down onto my belly and gave the tip of my cock a swipe with his tongue.
"When I find you there, you're a little sweaty in your suit. I mean you still look good--very, very good--but you're a little wilted. Your hideous tie is askew. You smell just a bit more than usual--a little... raunchy."
The feel of his hand on my cock was so satisfying. Not my hand. Not anyone else's hand. Alex's hand. He was touching me again.
"So I enter your office and lock the door behind me. You don't even look up, so intent you are in your work."
He licked his thumb and ran it along the rim of my cock.
"So good, Alex."
"I manage to take off my clothes and you still haven't noticed me. I sit my bare ass in Scully's chair and start rolling it over toward you."
He gave my cock another few flicks of his tongue.
I growled my praise.
"I get the chair right next to you before you look up, but you're talking, 'So Scully what-' Then you just stop, gaping at me."
He starts jerking me harder, because he knows I'm getting close.
"I'd better pick up the pace. Then I undress you, bend you over your desk and fuck your tight little ass."
He's timed it so I come at the end of the short tale, shooting all over my chest and his face. After a brief recovery period, I did something I'd imagined, but had always been too embarrassed to do in front of him. I licked my cum off his face.
His nasty grin assured me that he loved it as much as I did.
Afterward, I hauled him off to the shower. I was in an impossibly good mood all day. It wasn't just the sex. He trusted me to care for him. Alex was mine again.
Monday morning, Alex got up with me.
"Where are you going?"
"I've got some things I need to take care of."
That wasn't an answer, but I had to accept that it was none of my business.
I did accept it, too, until I got home from work and he wasn't there. I began to worry. Shit. I'd heard of agents with wives like this. Never a calm moment unless their spouse was within viewing distance... But Alex's life held hazards much greater than the average FBI agent. I fretted for a couple of hours and finally had dinner alone.
He didn't come back that night. By the next morning I was really missing him. Even worse, I felt a little hurt. Then we got called to Pittsburgh on a case. I went home for my things and left him a note.
Scully and I went to Pittsburgh. If all goes well, we'll be back on Thursday.
It didn't sound very affectionate, but I was in a hurry. Scully was waiting for me. I added my cell phone number to the bottom of the note to encourage him to call and rushed out the door.
I didn't make it back until Friday night. I dashed into my apartment eagerly, but I knew he wasn't there the minute I opened the door. The note was exactly where I'd left it. I dialed his cell-phone number and got the out of range message.
I watched crap on TV all night while I was trying to figure out what had happened. My best guess--a delayed reaction to the beating I'd given him. Alex didn't want me any more.
I missed his face the most. I wanted to see those lush green eyes shining at me.
Maybe he had been hurt or killed. In his weakened state, from the beating I'd given him, he might not be able to defend himself. It was unlikely anyone would think to notify me if he was killed. I drove to work Saturday morning to make sure my name was in the record with his fingerprints as an interested party. Of course my name and badge number were already there.
I slummed around all day Saturday. I wore my grubbiest clothes and didn't shower. I had no way to contact him other than the cell number. It was still giving me the same useless message. Would he just leave me without even an opportunity to talk him out of it? I had to believe that he might do just that.
I moped around all weekend. I didn't enjoy myself. I couldn't work. I barely ate. Monday morning was almost a relief. I dragged myself into work late. Scully was already there. She took one look at me and her face registered alarm.
"Mulder, what happened?"
I sat in my chair. "He's gone. Alex."
Scully came over and stood by me. "For good?" she inquired gently.
"I don't know."
She put a hand on my shoulder and patted me a little. "I'm sorry, Mulder."
I just nodded and tried to execute my morning rituals. Voicemail. Email. Wait, there was a message without any sender ID or subject. Odd.
I'm okay. Got a problem I'm trying to fix. I'll try to get back next week. Don't worry.
P.S. I miss you."
I looked at the message header. It was missing a lot of the required fields, but was dated. Last Wednesday.
I was so relieved. "Scully, he's okay. I got email."
Then I realized how I'd been acting the last few days. I'd fallen hard for the consortium spy. This had started out as just sex, at least for me. But now I could no longer ignore that he had become essential to my happiness. That made me depend on him more than I wanted to. A lot more. He wasn't exactly Mr. Dependable, was he?
I'd learned to trust Alex in an odd way. There were definite boundaries to that trust. For example, I believed that he wouldn't lie to me, unless it was really important. He wouldn't hurt me, unless he had no other choice. He wouldn't interfere with my work, unless whoever the hell he worked for told him to and he couldn't figure a way out of it. When I added all that up, it didn't exactly spell trust. But it was the only kind of trust I could have for him.
But to trust him with my feelings? Shit. I doubted that he could respect them if he tried. Merely understanding them would be a major challenge. It was for me.
I kidnapped Scully for lunch. We went to the harbor for seafood. I even let her drive, which shows how worried I was.
"What's wrong, Mulder," she asked over clam chowder.
"I think I might be more involved with Alex than I originally intended."
"Well, that's a surprise," she deadpanned. "It's been obvious for a long time."
"Why didn't you do something to stop me?" I suggested, feeling pathetic even as I said it.
"Oh, yeah, sure, Mulder. At any time, just a word from me and you'd have dropped him."
"Of course, Scully. I always follow your advice." I ate a spoonful of chowder. "And if you believe that, then you'll believe that I spent an entire weekend miserable because one my fish died."
"I don't imagine that he's an easy man to care for." I loved her for choosing her words so carefully. It was kinder than I deserved. After more than five years together, the woman owed me about a thousand I-told-you-sos.
"No," I admitted. "He's easy to be around. I enjoy his company. His career, however, is definitely not what I would have chosen for anyone that I cared about."
I proceeded to monopolize the conversation with my woes, but she had no easy answers and neither did I.
When I got home from work on Thursday, he was there, sitting on my sofa. I ran over to him like a high school girl to her teen idol. I kissed his lips with hunger, his unshaven face scouring mine.
"God, Alex, you almost have a beard."
"I haven't shaved for a few days."
"No kidding." I kissed his forehead. "Close your eyes." I kissed them, too.
I was so pathetically grateful just to touch him again. And it didn't have anything to do with sex. I knew that. Couldn't deny it. And I really wanted to deny it.
"Have you eaten?"
He shook his head.
"Let me take you out," I asked. I'd never done that before. Every meal we'd ever enjoyed together had been consumed in my little apartment.
"What if someone sees us?"
"I don't care."
"All right. I do care. I'll make sure we go somewhere he won't go."
We ended up in a little Chinese place in not the best part of D.C. I'd been there once after a meeting with an informant. It was a dive, but it was quiet and the food was good.
I hadn't given Alex enough time to shave, so he still wore his three-day beard. "You look very hot with that fur on your face."
He gave me a smoldering look. "I'm glad you like it, but I'm not keeping it. It makes my face sweat."
There was one little spot on his chin where there wasn't any hair. Probably an old scar I hadn't noticed before.
"Did everything go well on your trip?" I didn't want to pry, but I was concerned.
He frowned. "Let's talk about that later, okay?"
My need for peace between us led me to back down immediately. "Fine."
He reached under the table and found my thigh. He stroked it gently--not trying to get me excited, just wanting the contact. It was just right--kept us connected.
For the first time with him, I talked about the X-Files. I avoided anything that even remotely might relate to the Consortium, but I was able to just chat with him. He seemed to especially enjoy hearing about the Great Mutato. It felt like his presence alone was enough to keep me from ever being unhappy again.
Later, we were walking the dark streets of D.C. back to my car. He whispered into my ear, his husky voice in a serious tone. "Don't ask any questions. Just listen. When we get back to your apartment, I'm going to give you two envelopes."
"Inside each is a key and instructions. They're identical. I want you to put them in two separate safe places. If anything should happen to me-"
My heart rate accelerated immediately. "Is something going to happen to you?"
"Hush. I'm just trying to make sure nothing does. If anything should happen, I want you to retrieve and open either envelope and follow the instructions."
I nodded. I knew he was setting this up to protect himself. I desperately hoped that this meant he was trying to get away from the Consortium.
"Don't worry, I won't ask you to do anything immoral."
"I trust you."
He looked at me askance, like he wanted to question my judgment, but said nothing.
"Would anyone understand the instructions if they had the envelope?"
"No. I've coded parts of it with private information that only you and I know."
I had to stifle my curiosity. What private information did I share with this man? "Okay. I'll do as you ask." We'd reached the car. "What if something happens to me?"
"I've given another pair of envelopes to someone else."
I was dying to know who else was in his life, but I doubted that he'd be forthcoming, so I didn't bother to ask. "Is there anything else?"
"Yeah, let's keep walking."
We passed a very obvious drug dealer on the corner. He gave us a territorial glare, and even we tough guys scurried away, respecting his turf.
We'd gone two more blocks, before I sensed the tension leave Alex's shoulders. "You're trying to get out--away from the Consortium, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm trying, but it may not be good enough. With as much as I know, and..." He gave me a smile full of regret. "... even as much as you know, we'll never be safe again. You have to watch your back, Mulder. Promise me."
"I promise. But you're out, right?"
"I'm trying. Maybe. No promises yet, Mulder, but I think I'm out."
I smiled at him. "Thank you. That's good." I knew he was doing it for me, and I was truly grateful.
He stopped on the street and turned to face me. "It's not good, Mulder. I'm not good. Don't forget it. I can't live up to that. I'm just trying to make it easier for... on us."
I tried to reassure him. "I understand."
"No, you don't understand!" He spoke in an urgent, harsh whisper through his teeth. "I left two more corpses behind me this week and one of them didn't have anything to do with the Consortium."
I closed my eyes, unable to bear the thought of his recent violence. I didn't want to know.
I heard him continue, "I'm not a good man, Mulder. I'm not even trying to be a good man like you. I'm just... I'm just trying not to hurt you any more than I have to."
It was a statement of his devotion. But I was angry, like I'd hoped I never would be again after I'd put him in the hospital. I opened my eyes and stepped toward him. I saw fear course through those emerald eyes and he backed away. Fast.
"I'm not going to hit you, dammit." I was in control this time.
He stood still and let me approach him. I put one hand on his chest and pushed him back against a storefront. "Promise me something."
"What?" His breathing was rough.
"Promise me you'll never kill another innocent person."
He thought about it a long time before he said it. "Your father wasn't innocent, Mulder."
I slammed my fists into the walls on either side of his head. I screamed, "GOD DAMMIT, I KNOW THAT. Promise me! You. Fucking. Promise. Me."
"I promise," he said in a low voice.
I didn't have to tell him to look into my eyes. "I swear it." Gradually, his face softened into a look that I had no trouble reading, although it was hard to believe: he'd do anything for me.
And I had to face that I felt the same way. Because I'd made him swear it to protect him and us. It had nothing to do with anyone he might hurt. Yes, he was definitely my dark twin, or I was his. My desire for him overrode a lot of things that were sacred to me.
I calmed down and leaned my head against his just for the contact. He put his arm on my back and stroked me a little. In a couple of minutes I felt saner. "Let's go home," I whispered to him.
I turned back toward where we'd come from, but he led me another way. I couldn't figure out where he was taking me until we looped around a couple of blocks. He was guiding me around the dope dealer's corner.
We reached the car without speaking. But once inside, he leaned his head on my shoulder and his hand found my face. He pulled me in for a kiss. I was calm, but I felt my anger still burning under the surface. My sore fists were a painful reminder. I kissed him roughly, grinding my face into his.
I drove home as fast as I could. He didn't seem alarmed. Quite the opposite, he seemed relaxed. We barely made it in the door before I was undressing myself. For no apparent reason, he went to my bookcase and pulled out--of all things--my abnormal psychology textbook. He removed two envelopes and brought them to me.
Holding my pants around my waist, I took the envelopes to my briefcase on the kitchen table. He watched me put them inside and followed me back out to the living room.
"Now you can take your damned clothes off." He said it with a smile. That magnificent, lustful Alex smile...
I wanted him so badly, I hardly had the patience to undress. He watched me toe off my shoes and pull down my pants. I stepped out of my undershorts and decided to ignore my socks. "How come you're still dressed?"
"I thought you might want to watch."
He proceeded to do the slowest, sexiest disrobing in the history of man. I sat on the sofa panting. I savored the sight of his beautiful, masculine body. Every inch of him was muscle, with just a little bit of fat to smooth everything out into the sensual form that was Alex.
I was seeing and feeling just what I'd have been missing if he hadn't come back to me. I was so glad he had. So was my dick.
He finished by removing his jeans, his back to me, waving his very round ass in my direction. I had to laugh at his teasing.
In a flash he was on his knees pushing my legs apart. He hugged me like that, his head pressed into my chest. "I want you so badly." Hearing his husky voice after everything, I couldn't take any more.
"Do it. Suck me, Alex."
I needed it, and I needed it right then. But he took it slowly anyway, and I didn't try to rush him. Maybe I was no longer capable of speech. I just sat there, while he licked his way to my crotch, stopping for a tongue excursion around my nipples and a plunge into my navel.
By the time he sucked my balls into his mouth, I was already about to come.
"Better hurry," I rasped out between breaths.
He released my nuts and I heard him laugh. But he finally took my cock into his throat in one sudden motion.
I got out one good, loud groan, and then I shot in his mouth. He didn't stop sucking and I'd swear I came again. Maybe it was the same orgasm and it just lasted forever. In either case, I was reduced to a puddle on the couch.
I felt his eyes on me and looked down. He was grinning at me. So beautiful. Smile so big, his eyes closed a little. I couldn't resist saying, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"
He blushed. Alex Krycek, who'd have dreamed? "I've got a problem in my lap that I'd like your help with."
I reached down and grabbed it with my hand. I used it to pull him up into my lap. "Fuck, Mulder. Be careful. I might need that again."
I gave him a smirk and started jacking him off while I kissed his scratchy face. I explored his mouth, but he broke away, gasping for air. I'd never kissed him so furiously and for so long. I'd never kissed anyone like that. His mouth was sustenance and I was beyond hungry.
He put his arm around my shoulders and rested his head against mine. Perfect, I thought. I drove him hard and fast toward orgasm. His brow formed that adorable little crease between his eyes, like when he was frustrated. He shuddered and collapsed in my arms.
We sat there for a long time, just being together. Eventually, I led him to the bathroom to clean us up. From there, we went to bed. I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close to me, our faces close enough to kiss.
** Krycek **
We went to bed, but Mulder was thinking. I could tell. He got this look of consternation on his face. I was expecting something heavy, so I started to armor-up.
He comes off with, "Krycek, are you gay?"
"No, Mulder. This thing with you and me, I'm just trying to reproduce."
A smirk flickered across his face, before he relaxed again. He slid onto his side and put a hand on my chest, just touching. "No, I mean are you gay or bi or straight with exceptions or what?"
"I'm probably bisexual. I mean I am attracted to women, but I usually end up with men. Maybe I'm gay with exceptions."
"I can't imagine you with a woman." Mulder absent-mindedly teased my nipple with his fingertips. "Tell me about the last woman you had sex with. What was she like?"
I grimaced at that memory. I wasn't sure I wanted to go there, but maybe I had to open myself up a little bit to the man. "You know her, Mulder."
** Krycek **
He sat up and gave me a look like I'd just dropped in from Mars. "I don't think we both know any women, except Scully. And if you fucked Scully, I'll give myself a blowjob."
"Too bad I didn't. I'd like to see that."
He elbowed me in the ribs. "So who, then? I just can't think of any women. Someone at the Bureau?"
I shook my head.
"There aren't any women in the Consortium."
"Actually, there are, but you probably didn't realize that she was part of it."
Mulder frowned, trying to solve the riddle.
"You drove me to her apartment one night."
"Marita Covarrubias?" His face was brimming with disbelief.
I gave a small nod.
"She's a striking woman. I can see the attraction." His fingers wandered idly up my chest. "Okay, I gotta know, what's she like in bed?"
"Would you want me telling people what you're like in bed?"
"No, but you are going to tell me about Marita. Or I'll torture it out of you."
"Can I get a sample of the torture before I have to decide?"
Mulder smacked me on the hip. "Tell me."
I winked at him. "She likes it rough--she can dish it out and take it. Talks dirty, too. I can barely keep up with her foul mouth."
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Those long, strong Mulder fingers worked their way down to my navel. "When did you go to bed with her?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"She came on to me the night before we left for Russia."
"You turned down Marita to go to Tunguska with me? Not one of your brighter moves, Mulder."
"I guess it would have saved us both a lot of pain if I hadn't." Mulder put his hand on my left shoulder. "I'm sorry--"
"Don't." I pushed his hand away. "I don't want you to apologize for the consequences of my own actions. Just don't." I moved away from him to make my position perfectly clear.
He followed me across the bed and a warm arm came around my waist.
I needed to steer the conversation away from Tunguska. "Marita likes tall men with dark hair and light eyes."
"So do I, apparently." He ran his fingers across my abdomen. "You didn't answer my question."
"I only went to bed with her a few times and it was after that." I flipped on my back again, so I could see his face.
Mulder looked a little vulnerable. "So I suppose she gives better blowjobs than I do?"
I was amazed by his concern. "I wouldn't trade one of yours for five of hers."
"How come?" he asked, smiling at me.
I wasn't about to tell him it was that sweet desire of his to please me. If he knew how submissive he looked doing it he'd never do it again. "Attitude. Enthusiasm. I don't know... Yours are just better."
He scowled at me in disbelief, but let it go. Mulder's hair was on the rampage with three little horns sticking straight up around the whorl of his cowlick.
"So what's with the gay question, Mulder?"
"I'm just trying to figure it out. I never thought of myself as even bisexual, but here we are. I don't know what to think. Is this going to improve my taste in ties?"
I snorted at him. "I doubt it. I think it's too late for your ties."
"Do you think I'm gay, Alex?"
"You're the psychologist, Mulder."
Those fingers found my ear lobe. "But I want your opinion."
"Well, when you're in a public place, do you notice more men than women?"
"I don't even look at the men. Do you?"
"I've been trained to see women as the sexy ones. It never really occurred to me to look at men like that until recently."
"What happened to change it?"
"You kissed my cheek."
I kissed that mole of his again, to let him know that I hadn't forgotten. And just because I wanted to. "What about your hard-on in Hong Kong?"
"It just happened. I didn't think anything. There's some kind of chemistry that makes our bodies react to each other. Don't tell me you don't feel it."
"Believe me, Mulder. I feel it."
He teased the side of my neck with one fingertip. "Did you ever feel that kind of chemistry with another man?"
"No. Nor another woman. It's not simply attraction. It's like a biological imperative."
"Fuck... isn't it, though?"
"So what's the verdict, are you gay?"
"I presume that I'm bisexual, but that sounds like some swinger who has a lot of sex. And that's never been the case."
His warm fingertips slid down my thigh. "We could work on that, bi-boy."
He replied with a grin, "If we're a couple of bi-guys I should invite Scully to join us..."
"Over my dead body." And then I added, "Of course, that's probably just the way she'd like it."
At least we could joke about it.
** Mulder **
I woke early, feeling pain in my hands. I staggered to the bathroom before I remembered. My hands were bruised and swollen from when I bashed them into the wall the night before. I pushed away the memory and took my shower.
Getting ready to shave, I glanced in the mirror and saw that my face was chapped. I touched my cheek and it felt raw. At first I didn't get it, but then it dawned on me. Whisker burn. I smiled at the memory of all that kissing.
I was feeling selfish, so I woke him. "Will you be here when I get back?"
I kissed him longer than I had time for, enjoying the burning sensation of his beard on my tender face.
As I drove to work, the pain in my hands brought me back to the conversation during our walk. I was ashamed that'd he killed again, but I didn't know if I was ashamed of him or of myself.
If I was a better man than he was, it wasn't by much. For I had given his victims not a single thought until that moment. I'd taken Alex home. We got each other off and spent the night together. Not until the next morning did I stop to consider the lives he'd taken. With Alex nearby, my morals weren't any better than his.
That thought was a piece of sorrow that slid down into my gut. I just let it be. I already knew I could live with it. Part of me felt the urge to brood about it for the next year or two, but I couldn't. I'd spent too much of my life moping and I needed to get on with living. Alex made me want to live. So I did.
I escaped early from a budget meeting. I wrote my name and badge number on one of the envelopes Alex had given me, my name and cell phone number on the other. I drove to the regional FBI office in Baltimore, making sure I wasn't followed. I chased down a guy I'd roomed with at the Academy. I asked him to keep the envelope for me in his desk and to never tell anyone about it. On the way back, I stopped in College Park and drove to the University. There I went to find a professor I'd known from Cambridge. I gave him the second envelope and asked him to keep it at his house.
I made it back in time for lunch. Scully didn't ask where I'd been, so I didn't have to make up a story. After about an hour of working together quietly, I caught her watching me with an odd expression on her face.
"Mulder, what happened to your face?"
I felt my ears go red, but I remained silent.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"You tell me, Scully."
"Beard burn. You got that from kissing an unshaven man."
I nodded, feeling rather proud in a juvenile way, like a high school kid with his first hickey.
"Mulder, anyone who sees that could guess what it is. And you don't get it from kissing a woman."
"Then I suppose they'll think I've been kissing a man." I smiled to let her know I wasn't going to let it bother me. I felt so damned happy about having Alex in my life.
I left work early and did some shopping. First I cruised down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Gap. Next stop Dupont Circle.
When I opened the door to my apartment, I thought I had the wrong unit. I could smell something wonderful. Garlic. Oregano. Spaghetti sauce?
I found a clean-shaven Alex in the kitchen. Cooking.
"Hi, honey. I'm home."
He smirked at me, and then faked an Italian accent, "Ei! You wuant me to cooc for you onli once, ten you tease me. You wuant me to cooc for you again, ten you don't."
I grabbed him around the waist from behind. "And what if I want you to fuck me again?"
Gesturing like a passionate, one-armed Italian he replied, "Ten you take off your clothes and trow yourself on te floor."
I'd never seen him be silly before. His whole face lit up. So beautiful... my Alex.
After dinner, we had ice cream in the living room. "Thank you for dinner." I kissed lips still cold from the ice cream.
Then I retrieved the shopping bags. "I brought you some presents." I handed him one, which held a pair of black Levi's 501s.
He was a little excited, but he didn't want it to show. He looked at the jeans suspiciously. "How'd you know my size?"
"I read it off your butt."
"Well, I did need some clothes." He seemed afraid to accept a gift from me. I wasn't prepared for that.
"I was going to buy you some underwear--you never seem to have any--but then I thought, why slow you down when you're undressing?"
He gave me a smart-ass look and seemed to relax a bit.
I pulled up another bag. "But wait. There's more." Two casual, tailored shirts. One forest green. One white with blue stripes.
I didn't know what I'd done wrong, but he seemed to turn serious on me. His emotions just faded off his face. "Uh, thank you. That's nice."
I gave up trying to humor him. "What's wrong, Alex?"
"Nothing." He used that surly voice men use when they really mean, 'I don't fucking want to talk about it!'
I decided to ignore it for a while. "Well, if you'd put on fresh jeans and a shirt, I'd like to take you out for a drink. Okay?"
"Where?" he inquired suspiciously.
I pulled up my last bag, a small one from a bookstore and whipped out the "Gay Man's Guide to Washington, D.C."
He couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Oh, god, Mulder. You bought that?"
"No. I paid a hustler $50 to go in and buy it for me. Of course I bought it."
"Does this mean that you're a... you know... a hom-uh-sex'll?" He said the H word like you'd expect to hear it from a fundamentalist minister.
I bopped him with the book. "You just go make yourself pretty and I'll find us homos a place to go. 'Kay?"
He grinned at me and went to change his clothes.
Flipping through the pages of the book, I caught myself thinking that this was the first time I'd ever had a sense of humor about my homosexuality or whatever the hell my sexual orientation was. Alexual?
We ended up at Boystown, a dance bar just off P Street. It was only 9:30 when we got there, so it was still possible to park. I was a little nervous. I'd been in a gay bar before, but always on law enforcement business.
He sensed my reticence. "Mulder, we don't have to do this."
"I want to, Alex."
"What if we run into someone you know from the Bureau?"
"Then we'll know that they're gay, too."
"What if it's someone who knows me?" His voice was low, concerned.
Well, that was the crux of the matter. I could brush aside what would happen if they knew that I was queer. But Krycek was a suspected felon, wanted for questioning in multiple homicides.
I just wanted to be with him somewhere where I could touch him in public. I couldn't justify the decision, so I didn't even try to explain. I just slapped his thigh and said, "C'mon. I'm going to buy you a drink."
We needn't have worried. At that hour there were about ten people in whole joint. Boystown was an elegant little place--mahogany bar, hardwood floors, tasteful décor.
We found a booth near the bar. A handsome redheaded waiter met us there with a smile. "Hey, boys."
I felt embarrassed, but it took me a moment to figure out why. It was the first time anyone had ever assumed I was a gay man. I suppose I expected him to look at me like I didn't belong.
Alex smiled at the waiter. I asked for a beer and Alex ordered a Coke.
Even nearly empty, the bar smelled of beer and cigarettes. I could see a dance floor in another room. I heard music I didn't recognize--heavy bass throbbing off the walls.
I sat across from Alex, wanting to touch him, when I realized that I could. I pulled his hand over to me and stroked it. His face was relaxed, happy even.
"Fuck this," I said to him, jumping up. I joined him on the other side of the booth, putting an arm around his waist. I kissed him and the flavor of his soft drink mingled with my beer.
"Want to dance?" he asked me.
"I don't dance, Alex."
He pouted. I'd never seen him do that before. With his elfin ears and round little mouth it was too cute.
"I don't know how to dance."
"I'll show you." He took my hand and used his hip to nudge me out of the booth.
"There's no one else on the dance floor," I complained as he led me there.
"Everyone will be watching."
"Jeez. There's no one here."
I was thinking I'd rather enter a deserted building chasing a liver-eating serial killer than make a fool out of myself trying to wiggle my hips to that music.
He walked me onto the dance floor and I just stood there--probably with my tongue hanging out--watching him wriggle his butt in a way I didn't know a man's ass could move. God, he was a truly sexy creature.
"Mulder. It's better if you move."
I was still trying to figure out what to do with all my body parts, when the song ended and another one started. A slow one. I began to panic, but Alex took my right arm and rested it on his left shoulder. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to him.
His embrace calmed me down. He felt so good in my arms. I nuzzled his ear and let him lead. He smelled good, too. A musky, leather, Alex scent.
He purred, "Mmm... isn't this nice?"
I don't think I said anything, being rather deliciously lost in a brainless state.
After the dance was over, Alex suggested a seat near the dance floor. As the bar began to fill, men paired off and danced for us.
"I didn't know men could move like that," I said stupidly.
He took my hand and rested it on his erection. "Take me home and I'll show you how men can move."
"I suppose you've been to a gay bar before?"
"Did you ever pick anyone up?"
"What was it like fucking a total stranger?"
"Not nearly as good as fucking you." I was watching his face. He wasn't being flip. He meant it. I felt safer knowing that he had feelings at risk too.
"Let's go home."
He moved my hand so it slid along his cock beneath his jeans. "Sure."
I drove home, both of us silent for most of the trip. I knew he thought we were going home for sex, but that wasn't what I wanted.
"Alex. I don't want to fuck tonight."
He hesitated and his reply was a tentative, "Okay." There was something in his voice. Apprehension, but I couldn't make sense of that.
When we got inside, I hauled him off to the shower. He was sporting a healthy erection, but didn't seem to mind when I ignored it.
I adjusted the water and pushed him under it, watching it sluice off his muscular body. I grabbed the soap and lathered up his neck and chest. I worked it into his armpits and he squirmed.
"No," he said, but I knew he was lying. I filed that fact away for future use, because I didn't want to torment him just then.
I massaged his chest with soapy hands, feeling the slick, solid feel of him. Then I lathered up again and rubbed his shoulders. I washed his right arm between the fingers of both of my hands, giving enough pressure to make him feel good. When I reached for his left arm, he cringed a little, but didn't pull away. I soaped it up and rubbed around it. I could feel the atrophied muscle that must have been the remains of his biceps. There was also a fading scab, which my own hands had put there. Gently I took the scarred end of the arm in my fingers and rubbed it with suds.
His face was tight. Very tight.
"Does that hurt?"
"No," he replied, but he was barely breathing.
He loosened up somewhat after I finished with his arm and went down to his belly. I could feel the muscles of his abs slipping past my fingers. I didn't know how he kept himself so fit. I'd never seen him exercise.
"Turn around," I ordered.
He complied and I did his back. His body looked like he worked out with weights, but I wasn't sure how much of that you could do with one arm. I savored the sight of his broad shoulders tapering to his trim waist. His delicious bubble butt capped it all off into one gorgeous picture. I ran my eager hands over those round buns. My cock was harder than his at this point. I couldn't resist teasing his anus a little with my soapy fingers. He squirmed away and turned around.
"Jesus, Mulder. Don't do that if we're not going to fuck!"
"I'm sorry." I gave him an apologetic smile and went down on my knees to do his legs. I stroked his powerful thighs and worked my way down to his calves. They were smooth and sleek.
"Pick up your foot."
He braced himself against my shoulder and held out one foot to me. I didn't expect his feet to be so soft.
"Give me the other one."
He rinsed the soapy foot and offered me the other. When he'd rinsed that, too. I stood up again and admired him.
"Your body really turns me on, Alex."
He looked pointedly at my erection. "So we're going to fuck after all?"
"No, not tonight. Tomorrow. Can't we just have some quiet time together?"
He grunted and pulled away.
I snuggled up to his back. "Just this once?"
"I'll live," he said, still facing away.
"Turn around. I want to wash your face."
He complied and I used both my hands on his face. I could just barely feel his evening beard. I took my time and was careful so I wouldn't get soap in his eyes or mouth. I saw his face tense up, but kept on rubbing softly. I didn't get it, until a tear ran down his face.
"Alex, what is it?"
He pushed me away again, and stuck his face under the water to rinse it. I planned to take him in my arms when he finished, but suddenly he stepped out of the shower. I followed him, dripping all over the bathroom. "Alex?"
"I... I think I need some space, Mulder." His voice choked up.
He was turned toward the wall, putting on his clothes, even though he was still wet. "Let me dry you," I offered.
I watched him struggle to get clothes onto his wet body. I was hurting for him and for me. I knew he was leaving.
Dressed in the clothes I'd bought him, he put on his shoes. He turned to look in my general direction. "I think I need to be alone for a little while."
"Are you coming back?"
He finally met my eyes. His face was rigid with pain. "Yes," he said as if the word itself hurt. "I promise." Those beautiful green eyes were wet. Then he turned and walked out. In a moment I heard the front door slam.
I ran to the window and watched for him. I didn't even know if he had a car. He walked down the street. After he turned the corner I couldn't see him anymore.
I was lonely and hurting, but I let him go. I didn't know what was bothering him, but I knew he had to be alone. I sat up watching old horror movies until I fell asleep on the sofa.
** Mulder **
My cell phone rang around lunchtime on Saturday.
"I'm sorry about last night."
"I missed you."
His voice caught a little. "Yeah, me too."
"I'd like to see you."
"Tomorrow okay?" I could hear the fear in his voice.
I got it. He was afraid of the feelings. If it was sex or even violence, he was fine. But when I bought clothes for him, slow danced with him and washed his face, it was too much. Letting this man get close to me was scary. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I forgot to answer his question.
"Yeah. I'm sorry. Tomorrow would be fine."
"Good." He didn't know what else to say.
But I did. Now that I knew what he was afraid of. I just wanted to be with him. I didn't care what we did together. "Do you work out with weights?"
"Let's do that together, tomorrow."
"I'm fairly certain that my membership at the Bureau gym has expired."
"Where do you usually work out?"
"Here and there," he replied in his best evasive tone.
"Never mind. I'll find a gym. Meet me here at 2:00?"
Neither of us knew how to end the call. "I'm glad you called."
He showed up in blue gym shorts and a tight white T-shirt, one short sleeve closed around the stump of his arm. White Nikes. Sticking out from shorts, his legs looked about nine feet long. It was a clean-cut look on my normally leather-clad man. I leaned up against him and felt his chest through the T. "Mmmm. I like you in that."
He ran his hand down my butt. "You don't look half bad in shorts, yourself. Of course, the red Speedo is your best look."
I eyed him and remembered. "Did you find me attractive back then?"
He kissed me before he answered. "Fuck, yes." His lips traced down the side of my face. "When did you first look at me in a sexual way?"
"The night you brought the pizza."
He looked surprised, then extremely dubious.
"No, wait! Hong Kong."
"Damn straight. I could feel your erection," he said with a lustful grin.
So I took him to this gym I'd found in the Gay Guide. It looked like any other gym, except it was mostly male and the men seemed to be wearing the least possible amount of clothing. Alex and I were overdressed.
We paid $20 for two day-passes. I followed him to the stationary bicycles for a warm-up. As we pedaled, I noticed a man working a black machine across from us. He held these two chest-level pedals with his hands and pushed using just his upper body. It was like an upper body bicycle.
When the man departed, Alex bailed on his bike and went over to the odd machine. He sat down and put his hand on one pedal. He tried to turn it, but his hand slipped off. He struggled with it for a few minutes until he got the hang of it. Leaning his body for balance, he pedaled furiously with his right hand until he was sweating profusely.
I was awed. Never once had I heard him complain about his arm. I thought about all the times I'd whined about situations of much lesser consequence.
I got off the bike and went to him. Other people were watching him, too.
He had to be moving that thing more than twice as fast as the man before. The push down didn't look too difficult, but on the upswing he had to use momentum to keep it coming back at him. He ran that machine for five or ten minutes, and then suddenly he stopped. He got up and seemed satisfied.
"Let's do some weights."
I watched him do a weight machine that must have been for his lower back. Next he wrestled a heavy barbell onto his shoulders. Every man in the weight room was watching that. Once he got it there, he did lunges. I could see the asymmetrical adjustments he made to keep in balance. His form was odd, but once he was in position, he moved gracefully.
"You come to watch, Mulder?"
I found a space near him and did some sit-ups. But I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His skin was flushed and a little sweat-damp, like Alex when aroused.
He racked the barbell and fell into one-handed push-ups. There was hardly a sound in the gym as everyone stared. He appeared not to notice. His form was perfect and smooth. I couldn't have done two-handed push-ups with form like that. I decided to try the one-handed version and executed two with miserable form and died on the third.
Alex finished at least twenty of the damned things and moved on to a bench. He was doing something for the upper body with a dumbbell, when this kid in his early twenties came up. "Busy tonight?" I heard the boy ask.
"Yeah." Alex grunted, never stopping his set, never even looking at the kid.
I made my way to him as the boy sulked off. "I'd better stick around or I'll be going home alone."
He finished the set and sat up, the dumbbell tossed to the floor, green eyes locked onto mine. "I'm going home with you. As long as you want me to."
"You know I do." I smiled at him, wanting a kiss. "Every man in this gym has been checking you out."
Alex shrugged. He finished his workout with biceps curls. I still hadn't done much.
"You ready for your workout?" he asked.
"What did you have in mind?"
He handed me the dumbbell he'd just been using. I stood there holding it.
"It works better if you move the weight."
"Fine," I snarled at him. "Then you get me a weight I can move."
He took the weight away and brought me one ten pounds lighter. He took me through an entire workout, showing me how to do everything at about half of the weight he'd lifted.
Afterward, I was covered in sweat and feeling a little shaky. "Would you mind driving home?"
"You do have a driver's license."
"Two of them, as you recall."
I gave him a look. "Okay, then, Joshua. You can drive."
When we got settled in the car, I regretted asking him. Stick shift. I almost called it off, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what he'd do.
Suspiciously, he didn't look at me. He knew I was watching him. When he had to shift, he'd brace his knee against the steering wheel and use the stump of his left arm to guide it. He was pretty adept, so I knew he'd done it before. I also noticed that he didn't shift any more frequently than he absolutely had to.
When we got home my legs were wobbly. I tossed my gym bag on a chair and groaned. "Ohhh. Does it always hurt this much?"
He laughed at me. "You remember when you got mad because I didn't tell you how your ass was going to feel after being fucked?"
"Your muscles are going to really hurt in about twenty four to thirty six hours."
I threw my sweaty T-shirt at him. "Well, then you'd better fuck me now, because it sounds like you won't be getting any tomorrow."
"Don't you want to get cleaned up first?"
I'd thought about a shower, but after Friday night I didn't want to take any chances. "I'm going to lick you clean."
We made our way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing.
Lying on top of him, I discovered just how dirty and sweaty we both were. He still smelled good, though. I felt like such an animal wanting him like that. "Can you stand the way I smell?"
He stuck out his tongue and licked my armpit. "No problem," he said in his cocky voice.
I shuddered and said, "Don't expect me to reciprocate that."
He chuckled and pulled me into a kiss that didn't taste the least bit raunchy. Then he wrestled his way on top. He held himself over me with his sole arm and I wondered if he could fuck me while doing one-armed push-ups.
Something about this masculine body on top of mine made my hormones fire as they never had before. Not at all like sex with women. Alex was a completely male animal. I felt like his prey. Being taken by him was so right--all the way down to the deepest recesses of my little reptilian brain.
He slowly let his weight shift on to me. I loved the feeling of being held down by his body. He gnawed on my neck for a while. He seemed to just savor the taste of it, or maybe Fox Mulder was his personal salt lick. Then he started to work his way south.
He caught some of the hairs on my chest--few, but proud--and tugged them with his lips. He moved on to my abdomen, licking and sucking on hunks of my skin that he could grasp between his lips.
Then he rubbed his nose in my pubic hair. "Oh, god, Mulder. You smell like... like a MAN."
I swatted his head with my hand.
He laughed and squirmed. "Okay, okay."
He rolled us both over onto our sides, so he was facing me. He scooted down toward my crotch. I expected to feel the flick of his tongue on my cock, but he took me all the way down with one swallow.
He released my cock from this throat. "That was pretty." And before I could complain, he was sucking me again while jacking himself off.
Then he released his own cock. He worked mine a few more times and pulled off of it. "Don't stop, Alex."
"I want to fuck you."
"Well.... Okay, then."
I rolled to the edge of the bed and rolled back with the lube and a condom. I sat up to put the condom onto his thick cock. Then I lay back down. Alex sat between my legs.
He took my cock into his mouth again and made sure I was still in the mood--an unnecessary step, but I wasn't complaining. Then he pulled back and lubed his fingers and his cock. "Flip over," he whispered.
So I rearranged myself again, face down.
In a moment I felt his lips on my butt. He took a bite.
I heard him chuckle. Then I felt a cool finger slide across my anus and enter me. He quickly removed one finger and replaced two. I loved the feel of him in me, even just his fingers. He stroked across my prostate and I groaned my approval.
He opened me up slowly, his fingers prowling my ass. His pace was good. I knew I wouldn't have to wait all day for him to fuck me. Soon he removed two fingers and put in more. I did my best to relax, though how anyone could truly relax with this hot man's fingers in his ass is beyond me.
"You want it, Mulder?"
"You know I do." He was fucking me pretty hard with his fingers at this point.
His voice dropped very low, as he repeated himself, "Convince me."
I wilted. My voice started out testy, but I was soon babbling in a pleading tone. "You know how badly I want it. Fuck me. Please, Alex. Fuck me." I wiggled my ass at him to reinforce my message.
His fingers were gone in an instant. I felt his weight shift and his cock pushed into me hard and fast. Oh, god. He fucked me so good. It felt like he was penetrating my entire body from head to toe. Liquid Alex flowing in my veins...
He shifted forward and kissed the back of my neck. I strained myself into a neck twist and his tongue found my mouth. He savaged my mouth as his cock plundered my ass. So damned good...
I rubbed my cock into the sheets underneath me.
Then, he pulled up off my back and used his hand to guide my hips off the bed. "Lift your butt."
I complied and backed my rear end into a kneeling Alex. He entered me again and reached for my cock. Between his hand jacking me off and his cock in my ass, I was going to come quickly.
He brought me right to the brink and started whispering to me. "Mulder. I'm going to keep fucking you, but I'm going to stop touching your cock."
I don't like to admit this but I squealed. Well, not exactly a squeal. It was a low sound of manly frustration. Okay, it was a girly-sounding squeal. Somehow I managed to speak, trying to use a serious voice to persuade. "No, Alex. Don't do that."
"You're going to come just from me in your ass."
"I don't think so."
"I know you can do it, lover."
That smoky voice calling me lover made me want to believe.
He stroked my shaft a few times roughly. I was very close, but worrying about his tactics had put me off a little. It did feel wonderful, though. I kept thinking each stroke might be my last, so all I could do was let go and let the sensations carry me away.
He was close to coming himself. I could tell by his rapid breathing.
He was still touching me. I thought I was going to sneak in my orgasm before he stopped. Then he released my cock. I could feel the delicious sensation of his cock sliding in and out of me, brushing across my prostate, but it wasn't enough.
I still hadn't come. I whimpered.
His voice was low and raw. "Come for me, lover." The man's voice was as good as his hand on my cock, wasn't it? "Come for Alex."
Then Alex lost it. He started to come and let his body fall on mine, driving me into the sheets. I felt his cock throb in my ass and I exploded in my own orgasm.
He lay on my back for a while, holding me. Then he pulled out of me and off of me. I heard the condom make a splish sound as it hit the trashcan.
He stroked my hair. "You going to turn around any time soon? I'm getting lonely."
"What was that?"
I twisted my neck again. "I'm too tired to turn over."
He helped me flop over.
"God, I hurt."
"You didn't seem to be in any pain ten minutes ago."
"Sex with you will do that." I grumbled a little and lay my head on his chest. "God, Alex you are the most aggravating-"
"It was hot, wasn't it?"
"It was fantastic. You are an incredible lover."
"If I'm not getting any tomorrow night, I wanted it to be good."
He stayed the night. I struggled with what I was feeling for this man. I experienced this crazy joy just from being near him. I wanted to try to put it into words, but that would make me very vulnerable to him. And, after the shower incident, I didn't want to torture him either. So I tried to be low key about whatever the hell it was that I was feeling.
On Monday morning, Scully asked me again. "Why don't you bring Alex over for dinner tomorrow night?"
"I'll ask him, Scully." For the first time since I'd been seeing him, I had the nerve to ask Alex something like that. "Are you sure you're going to be okay having him there?"
She sighed. "I'm sure he'll never be my favorite person. I can't forgive what he did, but I try to think of him as two different people. I'm trying to stay focused on Alex Krycek, my friend's lover."
I had to smile, because she was demonstrating her love for me. "I'll ask him."
That night, after consuming a pizza, we were just hanging around. I was watching TV. Alex seemed content to close his eyes and--I don't know what the hell he was doing when he did that--maybe just thinking.
I turned off a boring movie. "Alex?"
"I want to ask a favor."
He opened his eyes. "Sure."
"You haven't heard it yet."
"So tell me."
"Scully has invited us to dinner tomorrow night."
"Us. Me and you, Alex."
"Shit." He sounded worried. "She really wants me in her house?"
"She's not planning on poisoning me or anything?"
"She'll change her mind when she sees me."
"She's thought about it a lot. She's trying to see you the way I do. This is the second time she's asked."
I saw his Adam's apple bob up and down. "If this is something you really want to do, I'll do it."
The next night Scully greeted us rather formally at the door.
"Mulder. Krycek." She nodded and let us in.
Alex looked like a deer in the headlights as he handed her the flowers that we'd brought.
Scully escorted us to the kitchen table. We sat. After arranging the flowers into a vase, she removed a dried flower arrangement and put the fresh ones in the center of the table.
She sat next to me. Across from Alex. Scully looked at him and took a deep breath. "I know we are not friends and may never be, but I didn't invite you here to talk about the past. I'm trying to give you a chance--and give myself a chance to get to know you."
"Thank you," he said in a hushed voice. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for Mulder."
She smiled a little. "That's why we're both here, isn't it?"
Alex just nodded. His face was blank, not trusting her with his feelings.
She got up and patted my shoulder as she passed me. "You're going to like dinner. I made guy food."
I forced myself to speak. "You need any help?" She'd fed me dozens of times, but I'm sure it was the first time I'd ever offered to help.
Scully's smile acknowledged that she understood. "No. Just sit."
She went to the refrigerator and turned toward us. "What would you like to drink? I have beer, sodas, something stronger?"
"I'll have a beer, Scully."
I nudged Alex. "Coke, please." He wasn't much of a talker to begin with. I knew this was going to be a challenge. Scully had to be the person he wanted to talk to the least. Actually the second least. I suppressed a chuckle thinking of dinner at Skinner's house.
Scully came back with his Coke, my beer and a Diet 7-up for herself.
There was a moment of anxious glances around the table while we all tried to figure out what we were going to talk about.
Scully to the rescue. "Everything's ready except for the corn." She tried to smile at him with limited success. "Do you cook?"
"A little." He seemed more interested in the fabric of his pants than the conversation.
"That's good," she continued. "Because, as you must know, Mulder can't."
"Hey, hey! I can make eggs."
Scully answered that. "I've had your eggs. Unless you laid them yourself, you've got no business expecting credit for them."
"Be kind, Scully."
Alex forced a smile.
Scully had tried to get us talking. My turn. "I renewed my driver's license last month and I got it in the mail today." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. Extracting the new license I passed it to Alex.
It said plain as day, Fox William Mulder. My address was correct. The photo, however, was of some little old lady. We're talking 70-something old lady.
Alex suppressed a giggle and passed it to Scully. She chuckled at the photo and then said to me, "Bad hair day?"
She handed it back to Alex. He forgot he was sulking for a moment. "No. That's what he looks like in the morning. It takes him two hours in the bathroom..."
"Let's not have all the fun at my expense. I went undercover once as Scully's husband. She painted her face avocado green and went to bed like that. No wonder she's still single."
"I did that to scare you away, so you'd stop calling me Honey Bunch."
"It was better than Poopy Head."
A timer went off and she rose.
I smiled at Alex and stroked his hair, to give him some encouragement. He seemed tense, but okay.
Scully came back with plates for me and Alex. But by the time she returned with her own, something had already happened to his face.
Scully sat down and looked at him. "What?"
"Uh, where's the bathroom?" He looked stricken, and then his face just went blank.
"Down the hall on the right. Are you okay?"
He ignored her and left the table.
She looked at me. "What just happened?"
I looked at her and then his plate, then at mine and I knew. Steak, corn on the cob, baked potato. "Scully, look at your plate."
"How much of that do you think you could eat with one hand?"
"Oh, shit. Just the potato."
She stood up and reached for his plate. "I'll cut it up."
"Castrating him would be kinder."
She sat down again. "Well, what are we going to do, then?"
"Nothing. We'll have to let him handle it however he needs to."
"Is this a guy thing?" She had that men-are-so-lame tone in her voice.
"Yeah. Let's eat. I have a feeling he's not going to be very hungry."
He eventually returned to the table and picked at the potato while we finished. Scully didn't say a word about the food, but any festive mood was dead and buried.
We talked a little about some cases and a few people at the Bureau. Alex mostly ignored us, but every now and then he'd jump in and try to participate in the conversation. I'd never seen him attempt to play along socially before. It meant a lot to me that he was trying.
Eventually Scully cleared the plates.
"I've got ice cream for desert. Chocolate chip."
"Why don't you take your drinks into the living room and I'll meet you there?"
Alex and I got comfortable on the sofa. He gave me a look and rolled his eyes. Surely he was thinking, 'the things I do for you....'
Scully joined us with a tray and three bowls of ice cream. Mine had two scoops. Hers had one scoop. Alex's had four scoops. I couldn't help myself, I started laughing. Even Alex had to fight off a laugh.
"I figured you for a serious ice cream eater." She touched him briefly on his good shoulder, which clearly made his hackles rise, but he tried to be cool about it.
Later, she walked us to the door.
Alex spoke stiffly. "Thank you for dinner, Scully."
She nodded. "Good night."
Alex disappeared behind the door and I shook my head. She gave me a sad smile and squeezed my arm.
In the car on the way home, he apologized. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I tried."
"It's not your fault."
"She has a good reason for hating me. So do you."
"I don't hate you. And I don't think she does either. At least she's trying not to."
He shook his head.
"She didn't make that dinner on purpose."
"Hasn't this ever come up before?"
"I don't get a lot of invitations."
"I'm sorry. I should have thought about it."
"'S okay." He put his hand on my thigh. "Take me home. You can make it up to me."
END Chemistry Book 1
7 June 2001
In Book 2, Krycek gets into trouble... BIG trouble.
Feedback, please, or I'll have Krycek leave Mulder for Diana Fowley.
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