We'd each driven our own cars to Mulder's apartment after the police were finally done with us and Mulder had refused anything but the most cursory medical treatment numerous times. As I drove, I fought the rising paranoia that filled my head with visions of Mulder slamming the door in my face once we arrived at his apartment. It felt very strange to be following Mulder's car and for him to *know* I was following him. I found myself wanting to put a few cars between us to hide my presence, simply out of habit. But, despite the nauseating panic, I made it to his building without passing out. And to my utter shock, Mulder stepped out of his car, moving slowly and carefully, and then took a few steps down the street to where I parked, to meet me. I swallowed hard and stepped out of the car, fingering the weapon at my side under my jacket out of more nervous habit. I studied his face for some indication of what he might be feeling, but all I could see was exhaustion and pain. Beyond that, I was looking at the trademark Mulder-blank look. I decided to adopt the same expression and schooled my face into calm impassivity. I walked closer and closer, wanting so badly to look away from that puzzling gaze, but making every effort not to lose the staring contest. By the time I got to where he was standing, holding his ribs with one hand, I wasn't breathing. I couldn't help but flick my eyes down to his battered ribcage and back, and I felt my composure slip a little as my eyes narrowed in both sympathy and anger. I wanted to stab and hit Cardinale all over again. Of course, I knew that he wouldn't last more than a day or two in jail once he recovered in the hospital, so I'd never get my chance. That really pissed me off. But Mulder had wanted him taken in, and from now on, what Mulder wants, Mulder gets, if it's within my power to give it to him. As I came up to him, he slowly turned and began walking a half-step ahead of me, leading me to his building. Blinking a bit at his confusingly cold behavior, I fell into step behind him, shoving my hands into my jacket pockets. I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached as I watched him walk slowly and carefully up the front steps, reaching out slowly with his key to unlock the entry door. I waited patiently, thinking embarrassedly of the downstairs window in the laundry room that I'd used more than once to gain access to his apartment. In fact, this was the first time since we'd been partners that I'd come in the front door. I stepped through feeling slightly dizzy with the headiness of it, and followed Mulder to the elevator. He pressed the button and we waited, me stealing sideways glances at his bruised and swollen face, him narrowing his eyes just slightly, watching the indicator as the elevator descended, battered lips in a slight pout. He wouldn't even look at me. I started to feel a solid stone settle in my belly, sure that he'd had too much time to think during his drive over, and that he would get me into his apartment and call the cops to go ahead and take in their second Consortium agent of the day. But, as I had decided in that other fourth floor apartment, if Mulder wanted to send me up, I'd go. The elevator dinged and Mulder stepped in without looking at me, and I quickly stepped in right behind him. He turned to face the front as the doors slid closed, and he briefly glanced at me as I moved in beside him, a scant foot of space separating our bodies. I could hear his slightly shuddering breaths, caused by the bruised and hopefully not broken ribs, as well as my own panicked breathing, which I tried valiantly to control so as not to show my weakness. We ascended to the fourth floor in silence, then Mulder stepped out, again with me as his shadow, and walked to his door, where he again slowly and carefully unlocked the door and swung it open. I half expected him to slam it in my face, but he stopped just inside the apartment and held the door open, waiting for me to step through. I felt like the fly being reeled in by the seductive spider. I stopped breathing again as he stepped in behind me to close the door, and then he froze, still facing the door, hand on the knob. Oh god. This was it. He was going to tell me he couldn't go through with it. Couldn't help a known criminal escape justice. Maybe he'd even tell me he didn't know what he'd been thinking when he'd said he loved me. Confusion of the moment...adrenaline rush...still dazed from his head wound... My body was rigid as I prepared to hear my death sentence. "I'm not sure what to do now." His voice was quiet. I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing, staring at his back, eyes moving from one dusty bootmark to another, knowing that for each, Mulder had a corresponding bruise under his clothing. "Help me out here?" His voice was higher and he sounded so vulnerable. I wanted nothing so much as to give him what he wanted. I swallowed painfully and spoke, my own voice raspy with emotion. "You do whatever you need to, Mulder. Whatever you do is okay with me." His shoulders sagged. Obviously I hadn't given him what he was asking me for. He sighed, and I couldn't help but step in closer. I wasn't sure if I'd be rebuffed or arrested or both, but either way I had to be closer to him when he was that needy. I moved in until I was just a few inches away from his back. He straightened up, sensing me come nearer, and I braced for the words that I knew would cut me more deeply than anything I'd experienced from him so far. It would hurt badly because he knew I loved him now, and even worse because he'd told me he loved me, too. Then his head leaned back, coming to rest on my shoulder, and I let all my held breath out at once. I felt my hands come up out of my pockets of their own volition, sliding softly up his arms and then wrapping around him gently. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting his weight rest against me. I held him up, his cheek almost touching mine. I couldn't help myself...I needed more. I turned my head the slightest bit and my lips brushed his battered jaw ever so gently...so gently I didn't even know if he'd feel it. His body shuddered against me and I knew he had. I inhaled his scent deeply, my eyes closing as I brushed another careful kiss along his jaw line and was rewarded this time with the tiniest, quietest grunt. Hope was hurting my heart, but I needed to hear him say it aloud, so I broke the spell of his surrender. "What...what do you want, Mulder? Whatever it is...you need to tell me. I need to know." Because I'll give it to you. No matter what it costs me. I heard him take a deep breath and watched his cracked and bloodied lips purse, then wince at the pain this familiar action caused him. "This is nice," he finally said, bringing his arms up now to lay over mine, making me feel warm and hot all at the same time. I shifted, embarrassed at the way I was rapidly hardening against him. "Well, I'm not going anywhere," I answered, wanting to tighten my embrace, but afraid I would hurt him. I nuzzled his jaw with my lips again and he tilted his head to give me better access. I bent in lower and kissed him even more gently around the angry line of red bisecting his beautiful neck. It reminded me how bruised and battered Mulder really was, and regretfully I pulled my head back. "Mulder, whatever we're going to do, you need to get fixed up first. You're a mess." I saw the slightest smile twitch at the corner of his mouth and he agreed, beginning to pull away. "You're right. I'm in no condition for...anything, really." I felt my whole body flush as he looked pointedly down at the bulge in my crotch then back up at my eyes. "Think you could help me with some First Aid?" "You'd trust me with that?" I blurted out without thinking. He pulled a little further away and turned to face me, then he just nodded, still staring into my eyes. "Well, yeah, then...yeah," I said stupidly. He actually moved his poor lips in a smirk at my awkwardness. "Thanks," he said. "I've got a whole shitload of First Aid stuff in my bathroom under the sink. I'd get it, but I don't think I can bend over." Before I could even do so much as open my mouth, he widened his eyes warningly. "Don't." I smiled. "I'll get it," I said, moving around him and walking quickly across his foyer and living room to his bathroom. A sense of deja vu grabbed me...FBI bullpen, me grinning like an idiot thinking Mulder was welcoming me onto his case, walking around him to 'get the car' for us, when really I was going to spend 45 minutes waiting for him before chasing him down at the Sleep Disorder Clinic. I had to give him snaps for that one. I'd been pissed and impressed all at the same time. And it was then I'd realized how difficult it was going to be to gain this man's elusive trust. "I guess you still remember where it is," he called to me as I squatted before his sink vanity, pulling out baskets of ointments, bandages, antiseptic cloths, sprays, butterfly closures, tape and tons of gauze. He was right. He had enough for his own triage down there. "Uh yeah, I do," I answered, gathering the baskets up and standing, turning to find him coming slowly up behind me. We looked at each other for a minute, then I looked down at the floor, unable to bear all the things it looked like he was saying with that gaze. Things like, 'I remember, too. I wish we could go back. Maybe we can.' "Where do you want to do this?" I asked, feeling my throat drying up. I thought back, trying to remember the last time I was this nervous. I couldn't. I'd faced guns, knives, car bombs, and more punches and kicks than I cared to remember, even a few from him, but I couldn't recall a time when I felt less adequate to the task at hand. Mulder sighed. "I want to lie down," he said, and he started to walk toward his bedroom, loosening his tie and dropping his jacket on the dresser as he toed off his shoes. Because it was the only thing I could do, I followed a quickly- becoming less and less dressed Fox Mulder into his seldom- used bedroom. I stood at the doorway, completely at a loss, as he unbuttoned his shirt, his injured fingers fumbling at the buttons. Realizing what an asshole I was being, I quickly set the baskets down on the bed and came around in front of him. I placed my hands on his, stopping their clumsy attempts to push the buttons through their holes. "Let me help with that," I said, gently pulling his hands away and placing them at his sides. "I was wondering if you were ever going to offer," he said softly, smirking again. I let out a chuff of laughter, shaking my head, then sobered again, my hands resting against his chest. "I didn't know if you'd want me to." "I want you to." His hands came up and rested lightly on my hips, and his touch burned through my weird nylon pants. I gasped softly and couldn't help the way my pelvis shifted slightly in toward him, my erection starting to tent the thin orange fabric. "I'm glad," I breathed. "I want to. I really want to." My arousal climbed quickly as his thumbs traced circles on my hipbones, and my own fingers shook slightly as I worked the buttons free and tugged his shirt out of his (my) jeans. Images of when he'd undressed last ran through my mind. Memories of how sick and excited I'd been all at the same time. I wanted to take him in my arms in case he was remembering the same incident. I parted the two halves of the open shirt, wincing at the darkening bruises painted in large splotches across his slender torso. I tried not to even let the fabric of the shirt touch him as I carefully pulled it down his arms and let it fall to the floor. I couldn't take the time to set it aside carefully, even though I knew it would be my favorite shirt from now on. I had other responsibilities. Mulder's hands came back to rest again on my hips, and his thumbs were pressing firmly into the sensitive flesh, his fingers pushing into the upper curves of my ass cheeks. I brought my hands to the top of the jeans, and heard his sharp intake of breath. I froze, swallowing, looking into his eyes for direction. I let my own thumbs trace very softly just inside the front waistband, under the button, and his stomach contracted quickly, his abused lips parting on a soft gasp. I asked him a question with my eyes. 'Can I?' and he answered me by closing his and then opening them again, fixing them on me as his thumbs slipped just inside the elastic waistband of my pants and stroked there. My cock jumped, an ache of need shooting through it, and I pressed the button through its hole, then gently took hold of the zipper pull. My fingers were sweating and shaking so badly I lost my hold on it for a moment. Mulder looked down, and I glanced up sheepishly. He smiled at me, and I breathed again and took hold of the small metal pull once more, this time lowering it slowly, careful of the bare flesh I knew was just under it. Mulder's underwear had been shredded by my knife, so he'd had none to put on under my jeans. Another favorite garment to add to the pile. I gasped aloud as his hardening cock pushed its way out of the fly, and only then did I realize that Mulder was nearly as turned on as I was. I licked my lips, and was startled to hear Mulder's loud intake of breath at seeing me. Oh Mulder. Your wish is my only desire. Mulder's hips had suffered some blows from Cardinale's boots as well, and so I was careful as I pushed the jeans down, lifting Mulder's hands carefully from my hips and resting them at his sides. I missed his touch instantly. I pushed the jeans the rest of the way down to his thighs. Our breathing was loud in the room, his competing with mine as his cock twitched and rose toward me and my own jumped inside my pants, straining to meet it. I brushed my hands up his thighs, feeling the muscles harden and twitch beneath me. I took hold of his hands again, gently, mindful of the one that had been crushed. I lifted them to my mouth, unable to meet his eyes as I did so. I closed my own eyes and pressed my lips gently to his hands, softly to the injured one, then more firmly to the unscathed one, letting my tongue dart out to taste it and thrilling at the way Mulder's breath caught and held. I lifted his index finger with my tongue, drawing the end of it into my mouth and laving it thoroughly. I heard his small moan and opened my eyes and moaned myself at the intense stare I met. Never taking my eyes off those wide, dark, gorgeously hungry eyes, I pulled the finger from my mouth slowly, dragging the tip of my tongue along the underside as I withdrew it. I placed a farewell kiss on the tip before lowering both of Mulder's hands to his sides and sliding to my knees. I brushed my hands lightly over his bruised and battered but still incredibly beautiful body all the way down. I looked up at him from my kneeling position on the floor into wide, dark eyes that said, 'Do it.' So I did. I quickly but gently pulled his (my) jeans the rest of the way down his legs, carefully lifting first one foot then the other to remove them completely. I brushed his socks down his calves and then removed those as well, and finally Mulder was completely naked before me. Overcome with the power of my feelings, I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around his upper thighs, and leaned in, placing my cheek against them and sighing deeply, eyes closed. I felt his hands alight softly on my head and shivered. I opened my eyes and pulled back, letting my gaze move up slowly, once again able to thoroughly look over the most beautiful cock I've ever seen. "Oh Mulder..." I didn't even know I was going to say it until it was out, and I didn't know how to finish the sentence. So I started another one I had no way to finish. "Mulder..." "Alex," he replied breathlessly from above, and it was the first time I'd heard my name said with such need. And for it to be Mulder? I couldn't help but moan plaintively and open my mouth, leaning in close to finally taste what I'd only dreamed about until now. As my face came nearer to his body, his smell got stronger and I breathed deeply, getting dizzy on it. His cock jumped before my lips could touch it, and when it fell back down on my lips, a tiny droplet of precum smeared across them. I moaned and licked its salty tang from my lips, then moved closer to finally envelop him in my hungry mouth. He moaned loudly and jerked forward, his knees buckling a little. I wrapped my arms around him, and felt him tremble against me. With a guilty start, I realized how weak and sore he must be and how difficult it must be for him to stand up for this. I pulled back off his cock gently and stood quickly. I looked into his dazed and disappointed eyes and smiled, then put my hands at his shoulders and led him to his bed, which was slightly dusty with disuse. I could see his relief in the way his shoulders relaxed as he let me push him to sit on the edge, and then I smiled and kept pushing, until he was lying on his back, legs hanging over the edge of the bed. "Just relax, Mulder," I said as his head came up to see what I was doing. I leaned over him and brushed my hand through his hair, careful of bruises and cuts, and he lay back down on the bed, closing his eyes. "Good." I wanted to kiss him again, but I didn't want to put any weight on his prone body, so I rose back up and placed my hands lightly on his thighs. They jumped a bit at my touch so I soothed them, rubbing my thumbs gently into muscles I could see were not marked by the bruising which covered much of his body. He relaxed under my touch, and I slid my thumbs to his inner thighs and pressed his legs apart further. I kneeled down on the floor and leaned in over him, resting my upper body on the bed between his spread thighs. I stroked my hands higher, brushing gently over the pale, sensitive flesh where his thighs met his pelvis, and he whimpered, his hands coming off the bed then dropping down again in frustration. I couldn't make him wait any longer, as much as I wanted to spend my time worshipping the body laid out before me. He needed more. I could see that by the way his cock, red and rock-hard and oozing more beckoning precum at the tip, jerked and bounced against his belly. I quickly rose up just a little more and sucked the tip back into my mouth with a groan. Sooo good. "Ah!" Mulder's head came up off the bed and dropped back down again as my tongue began to work, stroking lightly all around the crown of his dick and then working its way lower, to play beneath the ridge there, swirling in slow, tightening circles. I reached up to grip the shaft of his oversized cock in my right hand to steady it, then lowered my mouth onto it with a rumbling groan, flicking my tongue quickly back and forth all along the underside to where my mouth met the top of my fist. I loosened my throat, letting him push in as deeply as I could stand, keeping my tongue stroking roughly now against the underside. I swallowed and bobbed my head, coming up to suck the tip then quickly engulfing him again before he could protest the loss of my warmth. Mulder was whimpering and moaning steadily now and I shuddered as his hands came to rest on my head, threading through the short hair there. He didn't try to push me down, and I wished he would, because I wanted to be used, to be punished for the way I'd been forced to use him. I decided that since he wasn't going to force me, I would give him nothing to want for. I quickened my rhythm, feeling my own cock jump and rub against the rough nylon of my pants. I started to squeeze the shaft of his cock to the same tempo as my mouth's strokes, and brought my other hand up to where I was frantically working, letting drool coat it and then sliding it down behind his heavy balls. His quick, deep groan let me know I was on the right track as I continued to work my mouth, throat, and tongue. I worked my way back further. He was thrusting up into my mouth now, whimpering and groaning and pressing gently against my head as I worked. It served to intensify my own arousal and I moaned deep in my throat and heard his own loud answering groan at the vibrations. Loving the sound of it, I moaned again, loud and low, and got the same result. I felt his balls drawing up close to his body. Almost there. Time to take him home. I groaned loudly and pressed my slippery fingertip into his tight opening, gently but firmly, and suddenly he was pulsing in my mouth. "Ah! Ah! Oh god! Ahhhhhhhhhhh Alex...." He pulsed and twitched and I swallowed and worked my tongue and sucked the last of his cum from him until finally his hips dropped down onto the bed and his hands released the tantalizing death grip they'd held on my hair. I gently licked him clean as I pulled my mouth off his still-hard cock, and carefully took my finger away, smiling at the last little whimper this brought from his throat. God how I wanted to fuck him. But I knew he needed care and rest...first. I slid my hands up to rest around his hips and laid my head down on his slowly deflating cock. I breathed in the smell of his musk and cum and sighed deeply, my tongue licking his traces from my lips. We were quiet, his hands in my hair as I laid there on his groin, for several minutes while he caught his breath. "God, Alex..." He sounded breathless still, and I raised my head up and met his eyes. "Good?" I asked with a slight smirk, knowing my abilities as a cocksucker had never been called into question. "God, Alex," he said again, and I chuckled, placing wet kisses on his thighs as I rose up off him. "All that and more was always there for the asking, Mulder." I smiled to let him know I wasn't trying to bring up old hurts. "Wish to fuck I'd known that when you were my young, hot little badly-dressed, gel-haired partner," he muttered with a slight smile, his tone matching mine. I raised my eyebrows. He'd wanted me? Then? I hadn't seen it at all. "Me too," I said, my smile growing gentler. "Just think of it this way," I added. "You ain't seen nuthin' yet." I gave him what I hoped was my most sultry gaze and he smiled in response, letting me know I'd hit my mark. Then I straightened up, all business. "Now that I've given you the first Alex treatment, though, we'd better take care of some of your other needs." I reached over and grabbed up the basket, picking through it and selecting the things I thought I'd need. "Do you think your ribs are cracked?" I asked, brushing my fingers very lightly over the dark, ugly bruising there. "No," he said, wincing. "Just bruised all to hell. There's no sharp, lancing pain, just the deep ache of bruising." I nodded, knowing the feeling well. "Okay, then. Let's get you cleaned up and some salve on those cuts." After I had him all cleaned up and there was ointment gleaming on all his cuts and scrapes, I got him dressed in boxers and an old, soft T-shirt so as not to cause friction on any more skin than necessary. Ignoring his protests, I finally, finally changed out of the silver lame top and orange parachute pants and slipped into my jeans and shirt, cock barely ready to soften as I became surrounded in his scent. I settled him on the couch and got us each a beer, then sat down beside him after opening his so he wouldn't hurt his injured fingers. We had determined that those weren't broken, either, most likely, but they were badly sprained, bruised, and scraped, and now that the adrenaline and post- orgasmic rush were both gone, he could barely move his hand without hissing in pain. I'd set it later, when the narcotics had kicked in. He gulped down two Vicodin left over from another of his adventures in bodily trauma and then we both drank our beers quietly, at a loss as to how to proceed next. "So," he said finally, breaking the silence. "What exactly happened back there, anyway?" I looked at him, frowning. "Are you sure you want to talk about this now?" I asked. "Yes," he answered. "Okay," I sighed. "Cardinale and I were there to meet a buyer." As he nodded, I wondered whose lead he'd followed to find us there. "He never showed, and you did." I looked down at the beer bottle in my hands and then sucked down the last swallow in the bottom of it. "You came charging in without backup, as usual," I stopped and glared at him for a moment before continuing. "And knocked me upside the head with your Sig." Mulder nodded again slowly, encouraging me to go on. "When I woke up, you were unconscious and Cardinale had relieved me of my gun. He was angry." I turned the bottle around and around between my hands, unwilling to say my secret aloud. "Why?" he asked softly, trying to catch my eye. "Well, you heard him. He thought that it bothered me to hurt you so much that I wasn't good backup for him against you." I didn't meet his questioning gaze. He didn't say anything for a minute, then he crumbled the last of my defenses. "I wondered why you didn't fight back much after you shot my father," he said softly, and I closed my eyes against that stark accusation of guilt, too beaten to voice my usual useless proclamations of innocence. I just nodded. "Why, Alex? I don't understand." "I told you, Mulder." I stared at my hands, willing my beer bottle to fill up again so I could drain it and dull this sickening, anxious tightening of my stomach. "Because you love me." I nodded again. "Then...Alex, if you really do love me...how could you..." He broke off, the pain in his voice making my throat close up. "Kill your father?" I looked up and met his shocked and hurt expression. He didn't even nod, but I knew I was right. I sighed but didn't look away. "Oh Mulder...there's so much more than you know...I've known you much longer than you think I have. Much longer than you've known me." His brows furrowed. I looked down briefly then met his eyes again. I could give him that, at least, no matter how difficult it was for me. "You've enjoyed a certain measure of protection for a very long time, Mulder. Ever since you and Diana opened the X-files." His eyes widened. "Yeah, I know about your ex-wife. I know about your first partner. Christ, Mulder. Their files don't miss anything. I know how you lost your fucking virginity!" I clenched my fist around the beer bottle, afraid the tension would shatter it in my hand. I stared at it, visualizing the blood streaming from dozens of deep cuts. The bottle held. I could feel Mulder's stare, and I looked up to see that infamous Mulder-focus directed at me as he tried to assimilate all the things I'd just told him. It was only the tip of a huge, potentially shattering iceberg, but I knew we'd have to start slow with this truth thing. "Okay," he finally said. "But what has that got to do with you killing my father?" God, I wished he'd stop saying that. It was true, and I hadn't done it without damned good reason, but I still hated hearing it stated so bluntly. I swallowed thickly. "Like I said. You've been protected for a long time, Mulder. And your father was about to bring you in on some of the dirtiest secrets the Consortium has." I swallowed again, my head buzzing with the knowledge that I was about to do the same thing. I looked intently into his eyes, hoping my story would serve as a warning, so he could better decide if he wanted to take this road. "If he had been allowed to do that, you would have instantly gone from protected annoyance to priority one target, right along with him." My voice fell with just the thought of that happening now because of my collusion with him. "I couldn't let that happen. Neither could my bosses. So I was sent to stop it from happening. And I did." I looked down at the floor between my feet and heard Mulder breathing, slow and deep. "So," he finally said quietly. "You killed him to save me." I couldn't look up or answer him. I just nodded. "Did you do it because it was your job, or because..." He trailed off. "Both." I looked up then and his eyes were full of such confusion and pain. I couldn't help but lean in and take his head in my hands, hoping he wouldn't push me away after my confession. "I did it because it was my job, and I did it because I love you, Mulder." His lips parted as I said it, and it was like being drawn in by a powerful magnet. As I leaned in further and pressed my lips against his, I realized we hadn't kissed since we'd left the other apartment. I sighed and breathed into it and felt the warm touch of his tongue against my lips. I opened to him and gently held his head in place, careful not to put any pressure on any part of his body, as I gently but thoroughly stroked through his mouth with my tongue and felt his own dart against it. He tried to deepen the kiss, getting more bold and rough, and I moaned and reluctantly pulled back. "I don't want to hurt you," I breathed, placing another kiss against partly open, wet lips. I let his face go and leaned back, brushing my hands down to let them rest softly on his bare thighs. I couldn't wait to fuck him. And I knew I would have to. He continued looking into my eyes, his hands coming to rest on mine. His next words, soft and sad, shocked and wounded me. "And Scully's abduction?" "Oh Mulder, are you trying to hurt me as badly as I hurt you?" I regretted the words the minute I'd said them, knowing I deserved far worse than just to be called on my crimes. "I'm sorry, Mulder. You're right. I have a lot to answer for." "I'm not trying to hurt you, Alex," he replied, his good hand tightening over mine. "I just want to get all of this out from between us so it doesn't destroy everything before it has a chance to happen. No more secrets." No more secrets. The thought filled me with icy terror. I nodded again. "I didn't know the score back then, Mulder. I was already in love with you," I said matter-of-factly, ignoring his widening eyes. "But I was still completely taken in by the Project. They convinced me that what I was doing was going to save the world." I scowled, the bitterness making bile rise in the back of my throat. "They told me that they had to take Scully away from you or you would get too close, and that would make you too dangerous, and they'd have to use harsher measures to stop you." "They threatened to kill me." I nodded. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I know now how much Scully means to you and I'm so fucking glad she's okay. I didn't really know her back then, and all I could see was you, and keeping you safe." I looked at a spot to the left of him, unable to meet that intense gaze. "And I was so jealous, Mulder, because she was the partner I wanted to be. You trusted her, and I could see that you loved her, the way I wanted you to trust and luh - love me." I closed my eyes at the memory of my betrayal. I had known I was breaking his fragile trust, and probably losing him forever, but I had thought I was saving his life, and it had been worth the sacrifice. The moment I gave him my keys will be carved into my psyche forever. It was the end. "But Mulder," I continued, feeling a bit stronger. "There is something else you don't know. I know it doesn't make up for what I did. It doesn't even begin to make up for it, but maybe it will take away some of your pain, and you can hate me less." "I don't hate you," he said, his voice soft and quiet as he waited for my next revelation. I ignored him, knowing that while it may be partially true, it was also partially true that he did hate me. Even if, as he'd said before, he loved me in some way as well. "I was the one who brought her back." I stopped to let that sink in, turning slowly to look in his deep, shining eyes. I drew strength from them and continued. "I found where they were holding her, and I stole her away and dropped her off at the hospital. I didn't think she'd make it, but I had to try." "It was you. You saved her." His voice was distant, as if he couldn't quite get his mind around that. "I tried to undo what I'd done," I corrected him. He stared at me and I shifted under his intensity. "Thank you." His voice was choked. I felt the first sting of tears. "Don't thank me, Mulder. I don't deserve your thanks. Just please...please don't hate me anymore." My voice roughened and I swallowed back the sob at the back of my throat. "I told you. I don't hate you," he said softly, raising his good hand to my chin. His touch sent a shiver through my whole body and I couldn't help but sigh and close my eyes, awash in the feeling. He lifted my face with his fingers until I was facing him. I opened my eyes. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I told you I loved you, Alex," he finished, smiling. "I know," I choked out, annoyed at how I couldn't seem to control the gravel in my voice. "But it's so hard to believe...after what I've done..." "None of us is innocent, Alex. I understand getting caught up in something then thinking better of it. That's what my father did. It's what Deep Throat did. The main thing is, you're getting out now." He stroked my chin with his thumb and gave me a sad smile. I smiled back weakly. Then I sobered, remembering I had one more skeleton to bare. "Mulder, I was there when Melissa was killed." I shut my eyes and his fingers left my face. I let my chin drop. "Did you...were you the one who shot her, Alex?" He sounded like a little boy, begging to not have his illusions shattered. "No. I didn't shoot her. It was Cardinale." I ground my teeth at the mention of his name. "But I was there, Mulder. And I didn't do anything to stop him." "Why..." I sighed. "I'd given up hope, Mulder. They told me you two had the MJ Files and everything was about to blow up in our faces. They were willing to kill anyone, this time including you, in order to get them back. I was desperate to keep that from happening. We were given orders to do whatever it took to get that tape back. Cardinale wanted to kill you. He thought he was shooting at you when he nearly hit Scully at your apartment." Mulder's eyes closed in pain, unable to bear hearing how Scully had been nearly sacrificed, and her sister murdered, so that he could live. "I know you love her, Mulder. I know you'd rather die than see her hurt." He opened his eyes and the look in them let me know it was true. "But Mulder, you cannot die. You just...you can't. You're so important. Mulder, you don't realize this, but you are the only one...the only person who has a chance of making this all turn out okay." "So you went after her, instead," he said flatly. "Yeah, we did," I answered, feeling my heart close as I imagined his love withdrawing like the tide. "I didn't think I could do it, but I went with Cardinale. He's trigger happy and shot before we even knew who was coming through the door, and when we realized it was not Scully, we had to run." "If you'd killed Scully, Alex, I would never be able to forgive you." "I know," I whispered. "I'm...I'm so damned sorry." I knew it was inadequate, but it was all I had. "And this is harder to understand than anything I've heard so far," Mulder continued. I nodded. "I was in such a dark, hopeless place, Mulder. Everything I'd believed in had turned out to be a sordid, complex, totally overwhelming lie, and I could see absolutely no way out of it. I didn't even care anymore. I was abusing cocaine, and didn't let my emotions factor into any of the decisions I was making. I didn't care if I lived or died. Or so I thought until they tried to kill me for fucking up." "What do you mean?" His voice was so low, so quiet. "Car bomb. They blamed me for the mistake with Melissa. They tried to kill me. I got away. With the tape." His eyes flickered back to life somewhat. "You...you have the tape?" he said, his voice full of growing hope. I finally smiled. I had something I knew he wanted. "Yeah, Mulder. I do." *** "My god...Alex...do you realize what this means?" My breath caught at the hope and excitement in his rising voice. "It means I have the precious truth you've nearly sacrificed yourself for time and time again," I said flatly. Mulder may think that having the truth will make everything better, but knowing it the way I did, I was certain that wasn't true. There were truths on that tape I didn't want him to ever know. "Where...where is it?" His voice was shaking now, his eyes shining maniacally. It was more than a little frightening. "I'll get it for you. I will, Mulder. But not right away. There are so many things I have to tell you, first..." He didn't let me finish. "Just give me the tape, Alex. You must know how much it means to me. Please...don't dick me around!" His voice hardened as he watched my mouth form a stubborn straight line. "I do. And *you* must know that I'll do anything for you, Mulder. And that includes giving you that tape, even though what's on it has the power to destroy you." His eyes narrowed. "Please...trust me, Mulder. I'll give it to you. I just need you to give me the chance to talk to you about it all, first. Please...just...trust me." I was fully aware that I was asking him to do this incredibly difficult thing for me for the second time in a day. I knew I ran the very high risk that I was asking too much. That it was more than he'd be able to give this time. He dropped his gaze to an unknown spot on the floor, and his head began to slowly nod. I let out a deep sigh of relief, closing my eyes. I swore to myself that I would never, ever, no matter what the cost to myself, betray that trust again. "Thank you, Mulder. You know I'd do it if it was the right time. I told you I'd do anything for you, and I meant it." He kept his gaze fixed on the floor. "Anything?" he said softly. "Anything. Name it. I'm yours," I said, feeling it down to the depths of my soul. "Kiss me," he said, raising up his face to me, unshed tears shining in his eyes. Giving him a trembling smile, I leaned in and kissed him, feeling relief wash through me and leave a dull, throbbing lust in its wake. His good hand came up and stroked through my hair, rubbing at the back of my neck as I tried to transmit the depth of my feeling for him through the movement of my lips and tongue, my hands skittering lightly over his bruised and battered body. Gasping, he pulled away and stroked his thumb along my bottom lip. I flicked my tongue against it and watched his pupils dilate. I was going to have so much fun making up with him. He grinned, a mischievous glint coming into his eyes. I looked at him, puzzled at the change in mood, until he finally broke my spell of anticipation and spoke. "And make me some soup." I laughed and pulled out of his embrace. "Your wish is my command," I said, giving him a warm smile. He smiled back and I stood up, handing him the remote. "No porn, Mulder," I warned him with a raise of my eyebrows. "What do I need with porn when I have a walking wet dream making me soup?" replied Mulder, taking the control and punching the button. I groaned. "God, Mulder, how do you expect me to *not* fuck you when you say things like that?" "Who said I did?" Mulder replied quietly, looking at the screen as it flickered to life. I swear to God. He was going to kill me with this goddamned teasing. Heaving a shuddering sigh and clenching my jaw, I went into the kitchen to make his goddamned soup. After we'd both eaten two hearty servings of Campbell's chicken noodle and I was in Mulder's bedroom shaking the dust out of his blankets, I made myself two promises. One, I was going to buy the ingredients to make him some real soup tomorrow. Two, no matter how much he teased me, I was *not* going to fuck him tonight. The former seemed far more likely to be kept than the latter. I finished making the bed and returned to the living room where Mulder was leaned back, feet up on the coffee table, watching David Letterman. "Your uh...bed's ready," I said, coming over to stand in front of him. "Good, I'm exhausted," he replied, flicking off the TV and tossing the remote to the side. He started to raise himself off the couch and winced, his stiff, bruised muscles protesting. "Hold on, Mulder," I said, quickly leaning forward and grabbing him around the upper arms, helping him stand. He accepted my help, bringing his arms up to rest around my waist as he stood up in front of me. I stared into his eyes, unable to let go, feeling his hands burn me through the thin fabric of my shirt. "Um...where are you going to sleep?" Mulder asked quietly, looking at me. "Oh! Well, I saw an extra blanket in there. I'll be fine on the couch. You do it all the time, " I added lightly. Mulder nodded and just looked at me, not letting go, not moving. "Would...would you sleep with me?" he asked quietly, as if afraid of the answer. I gasped and stared at him. "God, Mulder, as if I haven't waited three years to hear you say that." I watched his abused lips pull into a smile. Then I gasped again as he pulled me against him and put those lips on mine. I wanted so badly to take that mouth, deeply and completely, but I held back, not wanting to cause any more pain. I held my lips soft and still as his lips moved against them, his tongue stroking gently, parting mine. My tongue reached out to stroke along his for a moment, then I broke the kiss off quickly, panting and shaking my head. "Dammit, Mulder, I promised myself I wasn't going to fuck you, and you're totally ripping away any chance of my being able to fucking keep that promise." He smiled lazily. "Come to bed, Alex," he said, turning to pull me by the hand toward his bedroom. As I walked incredulously toward that open door, I reminded myself over and over and over that I was *not* going to fuck Mulder tonight. As we stepped into his bedroom, he let go of my hand and turned around to face me. "Can you help me get my clothes off, Alex? I'm really getting sore, and I just hate to sleep in anything. Makes me feel confined." I glared at him, firming my mouth. "Sure. Mulder." I reached out and started slowly pulling his T-shirt up his body, losing my indignation as the cotton slid up over black and purple and yellow and green. I helped him raise his hands, wincing at the quiet hiss of pain that issued from his lips as his arms stretched battered muscles over bruised ribs. "I'm sorry," I murmured, no longer angry, pulling the shirt gently off over his head and helping him lower his arms slowly. He was staring at me, breathing hard, and my own breath was loud and shallow in my chest, my erection jammed up tight against the confines of my jeans. I'll admit, I'd taken off my own underwear before putting on the jeans, wanting my cock to touch where his had. As it ground against my zipper, I almost regretted it. "Um, what about..." I stammered, gesturing in the general direction of his groin. "Take them off," he said quietly. "Please?" I let out a breath and placed my hands on his hips, where the boxers rode low, exposing the light dust of hair that disappeared down the front of them, to where Mulder's obvious erection pushed the fabric straight out toward me. My throat closed and my heart beat hard against my ribs. I could do this. I knew I could. I'd faced situations which required far more willpower than this, hadn't I? Hadn't I?? I sighed heavily, and looking at a spot just beyond Mulder's left shoulder, slid my hand around to the front of the boxers and pulled the waistband away from the stomach tensing beneath it. I heard Mulder's breathing stutter and saw his fingers twitch where they hung at his sides. Swallowing hard, I pulled the elastic out further, trying not to touch the hard, straining cock that just seemed to get longer as I tried to evade it. I didn't quite make it, brushing the elastic down the underside of his shaft very lightly as I removed the boxers. He gasped and his hips thrust forward, but I ignored him and pulled them the rest of the way down his legs, bending my knees as I squatted and helped him lift his feet out of them. Naked at Mulder's feet again. I could really, really get used to this. But not tonight, dammit. I steeled my lips in a hard line and stood up, making a Herculean effort *not* to look at the beautiful, hard, straining cock right in front of me. "What about you," said Mulder in a strained whisper, looking me in the eyes. My brain had stopped working about ten minutes ago, so all I could reply was, "Huh?" "You're not going to sleep in your jeans, are you?" he asked, and I saw his cock twitch out of the corner of my eye. I nearly screamed. "No," I ground out. Then I started unbuttoning my shirt, my sweaty fingers slipping irritatingly on the buttons. I was careful, though I wanted to rip it off in annoyance, because it was my favorite, Mulder-scented shirt. Finally, I successfully removed it and reached for my jeans. It was then that I adamantly cursed myself for taking my underwear off before putting on the jeans. One, because Mulder would see that I had done so and would no doubt be quite amused, and two, because I would look weird trying to find the damned underwear and put them on after stripping naked. Grinding my teeth and not letting myself look at Mulder even a little bit, I ripped my fly open and quickly pushed my jeans down my hips, stepping out of them and throwing them to the side with a huff. I stood back up, putting my hands behind my back unconsciously to keep from touching Mulder, and stared straight head. "At ease," said Mulder with a smirk in his voice. I closed my eyes, twisting my closed lips with a scowl, and brought my hands to my sides, fists clenched painfully. "Let's go to bed, Alex," Mulder said softly, and I felt the head of my cock brush against my lower abdomen as it twitched at the sound of my name coming from those aggravating lips. I opened my eyes and he was climbing into the bed, his cock bouncing against his own belly as he got situated, flipping off the blanket and pulling the sheet to just above his hips, settling in on his side. "I'm hot," he said by way of explanation. I wanted to slap the shit out of him. Instead, I went to the other side of the bed and got in, barely perching on the edge of the bed, lying stiffly on my back, staring at the ceiling. My erection pushed the sheet up in a ridiculous tent, the cotton scratching against the sensitive head, threatening to push me over the edge. Things were about to get much worse. Mulder looked back at me over his shoulder, then faced away again, scooting back just a little. I clenched fists full of sheet in my hands. The bed shook slightly as he scooted over a little more, this time bringing him to within a foot of my rigid, sweating body. My hand twitched with the need to reach for the naked skin just inches away. He inched closer, and my fingers made contact with hot flesh. I moaned, jerking them back. He used this opening to scoot in up against me, nudging my hip with his firm, round ass. "Mulder..." I growled. "You fucking cocktease." "I'm not teasing, Alex." "I told you, I'm not going to fuck you tonight. You're too beat up!" "Just be gentle, Alex," he said, reaching back with his hand. I couldn't breathe as it came closer and closer to my stiff dick, and as his hot fingers found it and quickly wrapped around the shaft, I cried out, throwing my head back into the pillow. "God! Mulder! Fuck! You win!" I growled as his hand slid up and down. I grabbed his hand with mine. "Stop it, goddamn it." "Why?" he asked, his hand squeezing. "You said I won." "Because," I snarled, prying his hand off my dick. "If you don't stop that shit right now, I'm gonna come, then I won't be able to fuck you." Mulder immediately pulled his hand away, putting it in front of him once again. "So get on with it." He moved one leg forward, spreading for me. "There's astroglide in the side table." My eyebrows rose at that until I realized he probably used it for jerking off. I reached over and jerked the little drawer open and grabbed the bottle. Shaking and trying not to spill any, I squeezed some out on my left hand, coating all four fingers liberally. I snapped the cap and slipped the bottle under my pillow. I flicked the sheet down off Mulder's body, baring him for me, and slowly scooted in, pressing against him from chest to thighs. I grunted loudly as my cock ground against his ass, smearing it with precum. "Don't move," I bit out, reaching around in front of Mulder. My cock throbbed against the heat of his ass and I concentrated on not thrusting as I groped for his. Mulder gasped and arched back against me, forcing a groan from my throat, as my hand found him and wrapped around his shaft in a slippery fist. "I told you not to move!" I growled, stretching my arm up and sliding it under Mulder's neck. "Can't help it," Mulder gasped out against my arm, his breath hot and damp, tickling my fine hairs. "God, I'm so ready," he sighed, and I felt a wet stroke against my forearm as he licked it. I groaned and bucked hard against his ass and took my hand off his cock. He moaned pitifully, but I took his hand and replaced it, helping him get a good grip, and starting him sliding up and down the now-slippery length. He slowly stroked himself, moaning, as I brought my hand back around behind him, scooting back just far enough that I could reach between us. Mulder groaned as I slid my slippery fingers down between his ass cheeks, and I wasn't especially hesitant as I pushed my middle finger into his opening up to my third knuckle. "Ah! God!" Mulder cried out, spreading wider for me. I bit his shoulder in an uninjured area to steady myself and began fucking him with my finger, dizzy and nearly ready to pass out from not being able to use my dick. "Fuck me! More...more!" Mulder begged, and I growled against his shoulder, licking then biting again as I slid in a second finger, stroking once, then a third, pulling him open impatiently, feeling his slippery ass brush against my cock as he squirmed. Finally, groaning against his bunching shoulder muscles, I pulled out roughly and grabbed my cock around the base, lining it up with his loosened hole. "I promised myself I wasn't going to fuck you," I said against his skin. "And I promised myself you were," he growled, jerking backward, trying to impale himself. Fucker. With another hard bite to his shoulder, I shoved into him, sliding easily into the slippery, hungry hole. "GAH!" I screamed out, seeing stars, feeling the beginning pulses of an orgasm I wasn't ready to have. "Don't you *dare* fucking move!" I gripped his hip tightly, forgetting about the bruises, forgetting anything except that if he moved, I'd come. He panted against me in little grunts but obeyed, staying perfectly still. I took my mouth off his shoulder and bit my own in an attempt to stave off my orgasm. I didn't think I was going to make it. Just the *thought* of moving made me start throbbing again. Even if I did get to pump a few times, this was not going to last long. "Don't move," I said again, letting go of his hips and sliding my hand forward. I had to bring him to where I was, because when I moved, I knew it was pretty much all over. I found his hand gripping his shaft tightly, and I pried it away, then replaced it with my own, slowly wrapping my hand around his cock and squeezing. He cried out and jerked forward, pulling off my cock a little and taking me so close I had to bite my tongue to keep from going over. "Not gonna last long," I gasped out. "Tell me when you're ready to come." I started fisting his cock, sliding and squeezing, and running my thumb over the head. "Oh God! Now!" Mulder sobbed, and I felt him swell and pulse in my hand and immediately rammed myself into him, hard, as his muscles clamped down around me. I howled as I shot deep into his ass, my hips slamming against him in short, brutal thrusts as my body took over, emptying itself for a ridiculously long time. The first thing I was aware of as I started to see the explosions recede was that I still had hold of Mulder's cock and was squeezing rather tightly. "Sorry!" I said quickly, letting it go. "God," he moaned. "Jesus." "Yeah," I agreed, resting my hand on his hip, laying my head down on my pillow, my cock still pushed deep into Mulder. We breathed like that, my chest matching the expansion and contraction of his back, until I felt something like myself again. I placed a kiss on the place I'd bitten Mulder, and he shivered. "*Now* can I get some sleep?" "I guess so," he answered, reaching back and pulling my hand around to rest on his abdomen. And I didn't remember anything else, until I woke up in bed, my front sticky against his back. I shifted, peeling myself away from his sweaty back, and he reached up to rub his eyes and gasped. "Mulder? You okay?" "Just...stiff..." he bit out, gritting his teeth against the pain of muscles one day after trauma. I knew from experience that it always hurt worse the day after. I very carefully extracted myself from him, trying not to move the bed. "Don't move," I said, a slight flush warming my body as I remembered saying those words last night. He didn't answer, just nodding his head once. "Try to relax, Mulder. I'm going to run you a hot bath." There had been so many times when I'd woken stiff and sore and would have been willing to kill for a hot bath. I brought in two Vicodin and helped him gulp them down with some water, then went into his bathroom and pawed through the bottles under his sink, pulling out shampoo. I leaned over and turned the taps on steaming hot, securing the plug and dribbling in a generous amount of shampoo. When the tub was full of nearly scalding water, I returned to the bedroom to find Mulder had fallen back to sleep, still on his side. I was grateful that Vicodin works fast. I hated to wake him, but I didn't want his bath to get cold. I knelt in front of him, looking at his face, so peaceful in sleep. I reached up and lightly brushed away a lock of hair that was sticking straight up. Sex hair. Nice on anyone...gorgeous on Mulder. It hurt me to be able to be this close. Touch him this tenderly. "Mulder," I whispered, brushing my hand down the side of his face. He didn't even twitch. Good ole Vicodin. "Mulder," I said more loudly. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't wake. Smiling, I leaned in closer, putting my lips next to his ear. "I love you." "Huh?" Mulder came awake, suddenly, with a jolt. I leaned back on my haunches. "Nothing..." He blinked, his eyes dazed by the painkillers. "What time is it?" I laughed. "I don't even know, Mulder. It's Sunday. You don't have anywhere to be. Not to mention you're on medical leave for a few days." "Mm." He still seemed confused. I smiled at him, my heart clenching at this rare look at his vulnerability. "I ran you a bath, Mulder. Let's get you up and into it." "Huh? Why?" "Because," I said, sliding my hand under his body to lift him to a sitting position. "Until that hydrocodone hit your system, you were sore head to toe. A hot bath will loosen up all the tight places." As he sat up, he winced, a little reminder of his earlier wakening. "Oh. Yeah. Let's do it." He reached his arms out to me and I swallowed at his trust and helped pull him to a swaying standing position. We made our way carefully to the bathroom, impeded somewhat by drugs and somewhat by injuries. I helped Mulder step over the side of the large, wide tub, and made sure he was lowered safely before stepping in with him. He looked up at me, eyes curious, and I smiled and shrugged. "You need help getting clean," I offered, lowering myself into the hot, foamy water. At this he smiled for the first time. He parted his knees to make room for me, planting his feet on the bottom of the tub on either side of me. I adjusted myself so that my legs were under his, tucked in on either side of his hips. I scooted in closely so I could reach him easily. I picked up the washcloth and the bar soap and rubbed until I had a nice foam. Then I reached forward and stroked the cloth down the slope of his neck, following it to his shoulder, then down the top part of his arm. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. I sighed and swallowed, and rubbed in gentle circles, mindful of all the bruises, large and small, as well as the cut ringing his neck. Mulder kept his eyes closed, and I worked slowly and carefully. I washed the other shoulder and arm, and he tilted his head the other way to give me access, sighing softly. Once I had his arms scrubbed and shoulders squeaky clean, I reached forward and began rubbing foam into the light dusting of hair on his chest. I worked my way from the center, then very gently stroked across one nipple with the terry cloth. He gasped. My cock filled and began to poke up through the dissipating foam. I took a deep breath and rubbed in gentle circles, listening to Mulder's breathing increase as rapidly as mine. I moved to the other side, barely letting the washcloth brush over the nipple, and reveling in the groan this pulled from his throat. Yeah, that one was on purpose. I finished cleaning him in quick circles, rapidly dunking the cloth into the water and running it over his twitching legs. I scooted in closer. Our cocks touched under water. I let out a controlled, shuddering sigh, feeling Mulder's gasp on my face. "I hah-have to wash your back now," I stammered, threading my hands in under his arms and beginning to make gentle circles against the battered muscles and shallow, healing cuts. He groaned and leaned his head forward, resting it on my shoulder. I felt his hand move through the water between us and cried out quietly when it grabbed our cocks, squeezing them together. "God, Mulder..." I gasped, as his hand started working them both together, slow and gentle. My hand moved erratically across his back as I quickly lost control of my motor functions. I dropped the cloth and slid my hands down his back, pulling him in closer, feeling our sacs squash up against each other as we ground together. "Fuck me, Mulder. Please..." "Uhnnnyes..." Mulder groaned, letting go of our cocks and sliding his hands around my back. "Just hold still," I whispered in his ear. "You say that a hell of a lot," Mulder answered in mine. "Bossy little shit, aren't you?" I smiled and pushed him back to lean against the end of the tub. "Is that okay?" He just nodded, looking deep in my eyes. I moved forward, putting my legs over the top of his thighs, and braced my hands on the sides of the tub, lifting myself over his red, wet, rockhard cock. "Wait...lubricant?" he asked, sounding worried. "Don't worry, Mulder," I answered, feeling his silky cockhead brushing my ass. "But I could use some help...um...lining up," I said, my arms getting tired. He immediately reached down and grabbed himself around the base, then he stroked around in seeking circles, driving my crazy, until he slipped into just the right spot. "Uhnnnn..." I groaned and started to lower myself, feeling Mulder's fat blunt crown burning its way past the ring of muscle at my opening. I clenched my teeth, eyes closed, and continued lowering myself down, pushing past the burn to the pleasure I knew was waiting beyond it. It still ached as I felt him push all the way inside, but I shifted, settling back a little, and Mulder sat up so that neither of us was holding the weight of the other. I sighed deeply, breathing through the pain, and then opened my eyes. Mulder's lips were parted on shallow, harsh breaths, his eyes heavy-lidded. I groaned and leaned in, taking his mouth in a wet kiss. Mulder's tongue worked its way deep into my mouth the way his cock was worked deep into my body, and I sucked on it eagerly, humming in the back of my throat, feeling the pain give way to a hot, throbbing pleasure. Without taking my mouth off Mulder's, I began to rock against him, causing his cock to stay deep, but move. I shifted around, then gasped, hard, into Mulder's mouth as my prostate rubbed over his dick. "Ahhh..." I cried out, my mouth open against Mulder's, and he claimed it again, groaning and encouraging me to move. I rocked and swiveled slightly, and soon was moaning and gasping out desperate breaths into Mulder's mouth, having a very difficult time getting enough oxygen. Reluctantly, I pulled off his mouth and placed my head on his shoulder, taking deep, gulping breaths and feeling Mulder gasp into my ear. The feeling of his hot breath in my ear took me closer and closer, my cock being squeezed and rubbed between our two writhing torsos. I was close. Very close. Then I heard his low, rumbling voice. "I love you, too." "NNnuuuhh!" I came, jerking against Mulder's body, and felt him start to lift beneath me, groaning as he tried to push himself even deeper into me, filling me with his juice. I moaned and hummed as I felt myself squeezing down on him and heard his little groaning whimpers in response. Finally, the waves subsided and I collapsed against him, careful not to put any of my weight on his bruised ribs. "You're gonna kill me, Mulder," I breathed out against his neck, before giving him a sloppy kiss. "No, we're definitely past that stage of our relationship," replied Mulder into my ear, giving my earlobe a little nip. I smiled and held him in my arms, beginning to notice that our water was getting cold. With a last kiss on his neck, I pulled myself back from him, separating us, and moved across the tub a bit, resituating myself, still within reach. "This water's getting cold," Mulder said, resting his hands on my legs. "Yeah, it is," I answered stupidly. Then, getting clearer now that not so much of me was touching Mulder, I added, "And we still haven't washed your hair." I reached up and stroked my fingers through it, and it truly was a mess, ratted and sweaty, crusted with blood from a small, nonserious head wound. My hand got stuck in the matted strands. "Ouch." "Sorry." I pulled my hand free and reached over the side of the tub for the shampoo. I poured a dollop in my palm and set the bottle back on the floor. "Close your eyes." "Getting bossy again," he said, but he did it, sighing softly. I rubbed the shampoo between my palms, then reached out my hands and stroked the bubbles gently through the dirty hair. "Mm," Mulder grunted, as I'd find a bruise or a cut. I'd murmur my apology, planting a quick kiss on his lips, then continue slowly and gently working the foam all the way through his thick hair. Mulder hummed in the back of his throat, his shoulders dropping as he sank into the relaxation a thorough shampoo can give. When he was thoroughly sudsy and scrubbed, I dipped my hands in the water, getting the shampoo off my hands, then stroked dribbles of foam off Mulder's forehead before they could make their way down to his eyes. "Time to rinse," I said quietly. "Can you stand up?" His eyes opened and he grinned. "Probably not, after that." I smirked and braced my hands on the side of the tub, pushing myself up to stand over him. "Good thing you have a shower massage." I adjusted the temperature at the tap, then quickly and thoroughly rinsed all the shampoo from Mulder's hair. I turned off the water and reached down. "Now you have to get up." He reached up with his good hand, and I put my hands under his armpits and pulled him to standing. As I was sliding my hands around his waist, he leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. "That was the best shampoo I've ever had," he said with a grin. "Me too," I replied, grinning back and helping him step over the side of the tub. I had to hold him very close to me to help him keep his balance. What's that they say about a dirty job? I wrapped a towel around his shoulders and grabbed one for myself, then led him back to the bed. He stood there, slowly drying himself, while I made the bed with his only other set of sheets. Shopping list: Ingredients for soup, more sheets. I knew we'd need them. I helped him get dressed in some warm, soft sweats, then put some on myself and followed him out into the living room. He sat on the couch and looked up at me expectantly, waiting for me to join him. "I have to go out," I said. He looked down into his lap, his head nodding slowly. He looked crestfallen. "No! Mulder...I'm getting groceries and shit! I'm not taking off." He looked back up, one corner of his mouth coming up in a sheepish smirk. "Sorry." "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Mulder. I haven't always been really...reliable." I looked down at the floor for a minute. "Things have changed now," said Mulder softly. "It's just going to...take some getting used to." I nodded, still looking at the floor. "Alex, look at me." I couldn't refuse a Mulder request. "We just have to relearn how to be with each other. Let's try not to fall apart each time the past comes up, okay?" "Okay." "Good." He sat back into the couch, picking up the remote again. "Pick us up some beer while you're out. Not that shit I buy...get the good stuff. 'Kay?" I smiled. "Mulder, your wish is my command." The End |