"HAh! I want the truth, Cryczech."
"You don't want the truth."
"Yeah, I do."
"NO, you really don't."
"Do so."
"Do not."
"So."
"Not.""You can't handel the truth."
"Prove it."
"The truth is really compelcated."
"try me."
"Love to."
"Talk, Cryczech!"
"The man you thoguht was Samanthas' father is actually Skully's father.
And Skully's other father is Skinnier's last-long brother..."
"Skinnier doesn't have a long-lost bother."
"He's been really lost."
"He's been really dead."
"No, he hasn't. And neither is you father."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's my father, too. And we had dinner last Sunday. Filet
mignon, casear salad, scalloped potatoes, red beans and rice, 90 year old
scothch, Bugluga cavirar. Borchst. And peas."
"wow."
"Yeah."
"So you're my brother."
"Can't you see the resemblance?"
"Now that you mention it, yes iI can. YOu've got my father's nose. Then
answer me question."
"Shoot. NO, put the gun down."
"Allright, Ale4x, I want to know. Why did you kill blah, abduct blah,
betray blah?"
"Because of my torutred blah, I was trained blah, I'm with the Secret
Service blah!"
"OF course, it all makes prefect sence! Lewt's fuck!"
"But what about Skully?"
"Skully's my beast fiend."
"She;s also you're sinister, Foxtrot."
"And you're sister."
"right."
"It doesn't matter to me at all. but it's you I love, you I want, you I
love."
"Okay. And the fact that we're collated?"
"So, were family. That should only make the sex that much ebtter. It did
with Skinnier."
"LEt;s do it>"
One, finger, two fingers, three fingers, thrust. With lube. No condom.
A few hard thrusts against the prostrate and they both came about twenty
times. Window-shattering girly screams and all.
Axle had one hand on Moulder'c ock and his fingers were rubbing Fox's back
and hs thumb was brushing over Fox' rosy-brown nupples as he fingered his
ass and made him squeal. Axle's other hand that attcached to his other arm
was hanging over the door and holding their perfectly matching leather
jackets. Except for the two-tailed coin and the small box with the wedding
rings in Cryczech's jacket. Axle made note to get rid of the bloddy
fingers that were still wearing them, later.
Moulder was in haven. Axle was the only lover he'd had. That could wrap
his legs around his neck and caress his calf with the bottom of his foot.
While he sucked his cock. And played with his hair. And whisteled the
theme from 'Close Enocunters'.
It was perfect.
Tehy'd never been so in love.
Some time later...
"If I had known that lciking your toenails could get you to sing the last
aria in 'La Traviata', I'd have done it years ago."
"You found every errogonous zone I didn't even know I had."
"Still, that left nostril came as a bit of a surprize, Foxershorts."
"And it made me hard as a stale loaf of pumpernickel. Or some other really
hard thing. What are you laughing at?"
"You said 'Pump her, Nick L.'."
"Love that guy."
"yeah."
Badfic title
by Amirin
"Moulder' trust me."
