by Ursula
Part II
Nil Astraea
Mulder woke, arms stretching out as his body stirs to life. He feels a twinge or two and his mouth tastes of past sweetness. One hand encounters warmth, the texture of skin, the faint soft sparseness of hair. He strokes the flesh that he touches and someone makes a sound, almost purr like. Now, Mulder's eyes open and he turns. As if connected to him, Alex is turning also. He's smiling. Mulder smiles too. They move the small distance between them and meet in embrace.
Alex's breath is still sweet. Mulder finds one final trace of sugar over his lips and licks it away. He cups Alex's face with his hands; his thumbs almost meet in the middle of Alex's long, beautiful neck. He can feel the pulse beneath the satin of the skin and as he leans down, he feels that Alex's blood is rushing faster. Alex's lips part for his kiss. Then their mouths touch, gently at first, Mulder brushes Alex's tongue with his, pulls back to see the beautiful face and sees some question in the large eyes. He thinks he sees pain and sadness and Mulder feels strong. What he wants is to take that grief away. He wants to ask, "Who hurt you? How can I make it better?" Instead, he leans back down and they kiss again, kiss until Mulder is giddy with lack of oxygen.
Mulder's arms frame Alex's body as he leans over him. Alex reaches up; his arms pull Mulder down. He is pressing so urgently that Mulder can feel every hair on his body, every bone in Alex's body. Their hearts are beating in the same rythmm. Alex's mouth opens as if gasping or ready to cry out with pain. His teeth flash in the dim light. Mulder lays a palm on Alex's cheek, feeling the roughness of morning stubble. Alex reaches and brings Mulder's hand to his mouth. He kisses it and then holds it to his lips for a long moment. Alex blinks, his thick lashes drifting down to hide the glow of the eyes.
"Mulder." Alex says, "Mulder." His voice is velvet. His voice evokes something, long summer mornings, a tiger's sullen grace, and a whispering sultriness that is the essence of desire.
Mulder doesn't understand the desperation in his lover's voice. He's not sure why Alex grieves when he is happy, delirious to have found this joy. Mulder asks, "Did I do something wrong?"
Alex shakes his head in negation. He replies, "No, it was perfect. It was everything." His voice shakes with emotion on the last word.
Still bemused, but certain that Alex feels what he feels, Mulder kisses Alex again, draws him up so they kneel on the rumpled bed, the covers gone askew, one pillow tumbling almost off the side. Light stripes their bodies as it shines from beneath the thinly parted Venetian blinds. A bead of sweat appears at the base of Alex's throat. It slides slowly down as if even this liquidity longs to trace the smooth, sculpture of that chest. Mulder feels awkward, too lanky, his torso a lattice of rungs compared to the geometric perfection of Alex's shoulders, the hollows beneath the wings of his collar bones, the swell of pectorals all leading to his narrow waist below. There's the spot beneath the throat, a hollow, in Alex, it is just so, a vulnerable soft place and Mulder must lay his lips there. Alex's breath catches again.
Mulder looks up. He promises, "What ever happened, Alex. What ever makes you afraid of this. It won't happen with me. I promise."
Alex's voice is soft, as if he afraid that someone will hear. "What if I'm not who you think I am?"
In this moment, Mulder doesn't really hear the question. He says, "Do you love me?"
There is a long silence and Mulder slowly raises his head to confront a turned away head, the line of that face, the soft fall of those lashes, the throat arched unguarded. Mulder is afraid now too. He broke the unspoken rules; it was too soon, too much. Then, Alex answers, "Yeah, we're both crazy. This wasn't supposed to happen. We can't..."
Mulder turns the face back and lifts Alex's chin with a gentle touch. He smoothes the trembling lips with a finger that also shakes. "If you love me, nothing else matters."
Alex smiles and he is lying down. His hands reach to draw Mulder with him. They lay together. They embrace and they cling together, denying the morning and the world outside. Here, together, their bodies touching, Alex's face pressed to the curve of Mulder's neck, Mulder's arms protecting him. A shiver and Mulder draws the blanket up to shield them.
The sun has passed behind a cloud and the light is so soft, diffused as it enters. The day will not intrude and in the silence, their breaths draw together, their exhalations are one as they fall back asleep in each other's arms.
The end
