"Yes I do," he countered, pushing the door open and watching the way
Mulder just about stumbled
through it. For once the man was graceless, long limbs refusing to
be synchronized into anything like
his usual movements. "If you fall and break your neck on the way home
Skinner will blame it on me."
Mulder just gave him a dull look and he decided not to make any more
jokes. A bit tasteless under
the circumstances, too. By lengthening his steps he got to the car
before Mulder did and got in the
driver's seat; Mulder was muttering soft curses as he walked around
the car but Alex figured that was
good for him, he needed to let it out somehow.
Then Mulder was sitting there, fumbling with the seat belt, giving it
up, leaning back and shutting his
eyes. "Home, Jeeves."
I'll be damned, Alex thought to himself, and drove. Mulder didn't say
a word more and Alex was just
as grateful; he hoped his partner had fallen asleep. He drove slowly
and excruciatingly legally, and
didn't look at Mulder the whole way. Almost didn't look at him. Now
and then he'd steal short
glances, just to make sure that Mulder's eyes were still closed.
Perhaps it was exhaustion more than trust. He could have driven all
over town, at this lazy pace, with
Mulder sleeping at his side. If he was sleeping. Alex sighed; he knew
the fastest way to the place
Mulder called home and he took it.
"We're here," he said, and Mulder opened his eyes so quickly and easily,
he must have been awake
the whole time.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said ungraciously and started to fumble
with the door. Alex didn't bother
saying anything, he just got out on his side, walked around, and held
the car door open. Mulder
stepped out and was already walking in when Alex had locked the doors
and came to follow him.
"You've seen me home now. Even Skinner would agree."
"Oh yes," Alex said and held another door open for Mulder to wander
through in that blind daze of
his, wondering if the man would just try to walk straight through them
if he were on his own. "I just
like to do a thorough job."
And he did, getting Mulder undamaged all the way to his apartment, taking
the keyes from unresisting
fingers and unlocking the door, and walking in behind Mulder as if
he'd planned to all along. Part of
his mind was reeling in surprise as the door shut behind him. What
the hell was he doing here?
Mulder turned around and scowled at him, equal parts annoyance and
bone-deep tired grief, and
something fell apart inside him, that fast, leaving him breathless.
"I don't want company."
"You should get some sleep," he said around the strange melting sensation
of discovery that was
taking him over, mind, body and soul. A wave rose inside him, crested,
broke, and he clenched his
jaws to make the words that went with it stay on the inside and crash
harmlessly against his teeth.
"Later." Mulder moved like a zombie, walking deeper into the apartment,
coming to a halt in the
middle of the living room. Tension shot out of him, sparked around
him, a force field that repelled and
attracted at the same time.
Alex went after him and put a hand on his shoulder. It was like getting
an electric shock. Muscles
jerked under his touch. "Now," he said, and Mulder turned around angrily.
"There's nothing you can
do right now and you know it. If you get some rest, we can look into
this tomorrow..."
He saw it coming, but didn't move aside when Mulder grabbed his collar
and shook him. Instead he
raised his other hand as well, and held on to both shoulders, bringing
them closer still. Mulder wasn't
really going to strangle him, didn't even try; his grip loosened in
seconds. Apology. Pain. "I'm sorry."
Just the rough sound of his voice...
"It's all right." No other phrase could be so soothing in its inanity.
He shifted his grip into comfort.
"Mulder, it's all right..." He found himself rubbing at the back of
Mulder's neck, fingertips against skin
trying to soothe the hurt deep at the core of the man, and this was
comfort, wasn't it, shot through
with guilt the way stars speckled the night sky. Comfort. Right. And
he the one to offer it, too.
"I don't want company," Mulder repeated and his head fell forward, his
forehead resting against
Alex's shoulder. It was so easy to hold him, it seemed so necessary,
Alex didn't know when he
started to pull him closer and closer, hands moving across shoulders
and back. That voice again,
ragged and on the edge, "What the hell are you doing," not really asking.
"Nothing," he said softly, "nothing, it's all right, really..." He curved
his hand against the back of
Mulder's head and stroked the short hair, shivering a little as it
grazed his palm. "You're tired, you
should sleep, come on..." But he tightened his arms around Mulder instead,
holding him so close.
"I don't need to sleep." Mulder straightened up slowly, lifting his
head, and looked at Alex. A dark
look, hard to interpret. Alex started to move his hand away from Mulder's
neck, his fingertips already
missing that warm skin. He thought about excusing this inappropriate
behavior somehow, making light
of it, making a goddamn male bonding thing out of it maybe, but then
he thought, what the hell.
And Mulder placed both hands firmly in the small of Alex's back and
pulled him close again. Alex
looked into Mulder's eyes, where the darkness was hopelessly hidden
by a brittle nervous energy,
and nodded silently, accepting an agreement Mulder might not be aware
of making. "It's all right," he
said again, very very quietly.
It was surprisingly easy to lead Mulder into the bedroom, to pull off
his coat and sit him down on the
edge of the bed, take his shoes off. Alex kicked his own shoes off
as well and sat down too, then
pulled Mulder down with him, pulled him close again, held him. Mulder
bunched his muscles, fought
in silence, then started to relax. Alex ran his fingers through Mulder's
hair again, played with it,
rubbed the soft skin behind the ear. It occurred to him that lying
here like this, fully clothed and
holding an also fully clothed Fox Mulder in his arms, was the most
sensual experience he'd had for as
long as he could remember. The tiny trickle of laughter in his mind
at that thought wasn't one that
Mulder should hear, so he suppressed it.
Instead he went on touching, slowly and carefully, neck, shoulders,
back. Slowly and carefully and
safely. All he wanted was to soothe his partner. All he wanted was
to touch him a little. There was no
one here to see, no one would ever know; Mulder himself barely knew.
Mulder shifted, but slowly,
too, no pulling away, just a little movement to get more comfortable.
Alex smiled. He found himself
wishing Mulder would fall asleep. He wanted to see that.
Then Mulder shifted again, turning a little under Alex's stroking hand.
Like a cat, Alex thought, still
amused. Another movement... and he finally recognized the languid encouragement
for what it was,
and all thoughts froze in his mind. His hand, though, had no such problems
and caressed the back of
Mulder's neck again, then let fingertips wander across his throat,
and those tiny movements were
definitely getting quite suggestive.
Alex moved himself, then, carefully turning a little more towards his
partner. He stroked down
Mulder's chest, threw caution to the winds and ran his fingertips in
circles until he found a puckering
nipple and rubbed it through the cloth. Mulder sucked his breath in,
squirmed, and the evidence of his
arousal was pressing against Alex's thigh now in a very unmistakable
way.
Stealing a quick glance at Mulder's face, Alex saw that the man had
his eyes closed; he relaxed a
little. When he teased the nipple he'd found again, he was encouraged
by a soft moan. He slid his
hand down chest and belly, and closed it around Mulder'e erection;
Mulder pushed against him,
unselfconsciously, hips bucking. This had turned so strange, so fast,
Alex thought. He looked at
Mulder's face and wondered what would happen if he finally gave in
and kissed that tempting mouth.
Perhaps he didn't really want to know.
He undid the belt buckle, argued with button and zipper and then with
the stupid underwear, before
he finally reached hard, hot flesh and Mulder made a sound again, a
yes sound, a please sound. Alex
knew about those. And he liked touching Mulder's cock; the strange
feeling of power made him
careful and gentle. He touched Mulder the way he himself liked to be
touched, and wondered if he
looked like that, too, eyes closed and mouth open, when he was aroused.
But something twisted deep inside and he found himself incapable of
drawing it out and playing with
Mulder for as long as he would have liked to. Instead he speeded up,
relishing every sigh and
whimper, feeling the gathering tension as though it was his own. It
was like touching himself. Alex
sucked in a long shuddering breath, as Mulder tossed his head back
and forth, the heat coming off
him in waves, heat and the smell of sex. He hadn't tried to touch Alex,
he was offering his body in a
silent challenge, his wonderfully responsive body, not just allowing
but encouraging what was
happening.
Slut, Alex thought fondly, and moved his hand faster, felt his own heart
beat faster, as Mulder arched
his back and came. What a sweet cry... He drew out a few final shudders
before lifting his hand to
his mouth and licking at his fingers. Mulder lay still and silent now,
eyes still closed, but he was no
longer sending out those about-to-explode signals.
Alex watched him for a while, taking in the details yet again of a face
that was growing almost too
familiar. Then as Mulder's breathing deepened, Alex managed to loosen
the covers and pull them
partly over him before slipping off the bed.
He got his shoes back on and crept out of the bedroom, scanning the
apartment for anything he might
have left behind or dropped before he left. It didn't feel right to
leave the door unlocked... but then,
he reflected, Mulder really was safe right now. Quite, quite safe.
Outside the building he stood for a moment and tried to get his bearings.
His clothes were wrinkled,
he had a raging hard-on and his right hand was sticky. He'd gotten
Mulder home... whether he'd
done so safely or not was a matter for debate, he supposed.
Alex sighed, and went to make a phone call.
End
Safe and sound: an X-Files lullaby
by Torch
"You don't have to take it so literally, Krycek."
