Mulder had done some research about the country and found out that it had a
pleasant climate even in winter, beautiful beaches on the South Coast, and no
crowds of tourists. Washington was suffocating during the summer. It felt
so oppressive that he felt he needed to leave the city behind him for some
rest and recuperation time.
The last UFO sighting he'd read about had been on a little beach in the
extreme South. It seemed like a good place to take a vacation, and to spice
up the holiday he would be able to discover if there was any truth about
alien crafts in this area.
He'd driven from Washington to New York and taken a flight to São Paulo on
VARIG, then another flight to Florianópolis, the capital of one of the
Southern states. It had been long, lonely hours on the plane. Left to
himself at last, he couldn't avoid thinking about Alex.
He hated Alex.
He missed Alex. He couldn't live without Alex's shadow always near him. Alex
had been missing from his life for three months now, ever since their last
fight.
Last time they had met it had been in a small town where Fox and Scully were
investigating the disappearance of domestic cats in a rural neighborhood. He
had suspected some kind of satanic cult but it proved to be only an old woman
with a hatred for cats. Fox remembered receiving a phone call in his hotel
room from a very familiar voice. Alex wanted to meet him in an old mill.
Fox became angry, very angry. Alex kept on showing in the most unexpected
places, but his need for the Rat blunted any rational thought. He went to
the place and Alex was there in the shadows as always. Fox didn't speak. He
punched that body. He just couldn't help doing that. He had beaten Alex
really soundly and then made love to him, if what he did could be called
love. Rape wasn't a nice word. With Alex being as cooperative as he always
was, he wouldn't say it had been rape, but love, love was something warm,
someone to care about, to find a place where lovers could be together; to
have hope and a future. Deep in his heart, Fox knew all those things were far
away from Alex and he.
Alex was about his heart beating madly, about blood, hot sex and loneliness.
Alex was about never knowing what would happen and when he would disappear
forever. Alex was his demon lover, always coming out of the dark and
dissolving into it again after making Fox taste hell and heaven.
They had to fight each time until one of them surrendered. It was the only
way Mulder's mind would ever be able to accept what his body and his heart
desired.
It was most unlikely that he'd meet Alex so far away from home. However, in
the deepest recesses of his mind, he was somehow always waiting to see the
leather clad shadow on some corner of a street somewhere. The image went with
Mulder always of Alex, waiting to be grabbed and punched, to be kissed and
loved.
Alex was his hidden obsession; Mulder's whole body ached at the very thought
of him. He shook himself. Better not think about him. Better think about
resting, and enjoying his vacation.
Florianópolis was a lovely city. It was a capital built on an island. There
were sixty-three beaches, some crowded and some wild. It had everything,
rocks, soft sand, pebbles, calm sea, tropical vegetation and great waves.
There were all kinds of coastline. The surfers on Joaquina beach waited for
the perfect wave while the few tourists had the time of their lives.
Mulder spent a couple of days in the capital. He did the tourist thing,
visiting the beaches, the colonial center of the city where the eighteenth
century buildings stood among very modern skyscrapers. He sailed to one of
the islands along the coast where a Portuguese fortress from the colonial
times still watched the sea, guarding against ancient enemies. He found
himself surrounded by a Babel of people. Florianópolis is an international
resort. Many languages can be heard in its narrow streets: quick Spanish,
guttural German, widely-known English and soft, chanting Portuguese. The
island is linked to the continent by many bridges, the oldest being said to
be the prototype to the San Francisco Golden Gate.
Mulder had already traveled to many countries including his time in England,
but he had never seen this mixture of the old and very modern that one can
only find in South America. He liked it. It was so different from his
wealthy country but with a charm of its own.
The nights were lonely as ever. Alex was returned to his mind with a
vengeance. What an ideal place to be with a lover, to stroll in the enormous
garden at the very heart of the city, and its major pride, to sunbathe on a
beach, or go dancing in one of its "danceterias". If only things could be
different for Alex and he. Alex, whom he had desired since he had first seen
him, as a nice kid apparently just so anxious to please. That kid had
happened to be a liar, a murderer and a traitor. The truth was Fox couldn't
forget that he loved the evil bastard and he hated himself for this. Even
Scully, with all her care, good sense and sweetness, couldn't make him
forget. All Fox knew was a love without hope, made from brief encounters,
time stolen from their lives.
Several days after his arrival he drove the rented Astra down to extreme
south of the state. His final destination was a little town, which had two
famous beaches, both described as little paradises by the travel brochures.
He had booked rooms in a hotel in Morro dos Conventos Beach. He had read that
this name could be loosely translated as Monasteries Hill, named because it
was said that the first Europeans, seeing the high cliffs from the sea, were
reminded of monasteries.
The hotel was in a colonial Portuguese style with bluish glazed tiles in the
facade, arched windows and first class facilities. The large rooms had
verandas opening to the turquoise ocean below. It was in a quiet spot
halfway up the hill. Some vestiges of the original forest still
remained there, and the hotel had two swimming pools in a garden of tropical
flowers. The only guests were a family of rich Argentineans. At the top of
the cliffs there was a well-kept lighthouse.
All the Brazilian lighthouses are property of the Brazilian Navy. Even
today, in an age of computers, radar and sonar the lighthouses still light up
hazards along the Brazilian coast.
>From the pinnacle of the cliff, the landscape was breathtaking. Mulder
looked out over the green river and its mouth, its waters merging into the
blue ocean, white sand and its dunes, phallic cactus covering the escarpment
walls, and miles of endless sea.
Fox had some hope that the UFO story was true. How he needed proofs to
corroborate the theories he was so sure about. Something to show the world
the conspiracy.. He had to have proof to set at peace the ghosts of his
life, Samantha, his father, Melissa, and Alex—always Alex.
Fox felt surprisingly comfortable there. The hotel had assigned a clerk to
serve as an interpreter for his interview with the local fishermen who had
seen the supposed alien craft emerging from the sea and finally disappearing
into the sky. Most of all, tired and burned out as he was, he longed to
enjoy the sun, the beach and some long walks in that exquisite landscape.
All this beauty shouldn't be wasted on his obsessions.
On his second morning there he went to the fishermen's community. It was
across the river so he and the boy interpreter took the raft.
He discovered a bewildering setting on the other side of the river. The
community was very near the river's mouth. The fresh water and the salt
water mingled with a low roar. The people were simple and kind. Both native
and foreign scientists had already been there to investigate the phenomena,
but nobody was so exquisitely pretty as this tall, handsome American. The
girls couldn't stop staring, but Fox as ever, seemed immune to the frisson he
could provoke in both women and men.
The investigation proved fruitless. There weren't any proofs, only reports
of the sightings. They seemed consistent enough, but because of the lack of
corroborating evidence, he knew that the investigation wouldn't lead to any
proof that the Consortium had been hiding evidence of aliens in this distant
place.
He spent the rest of the day on the beach. He was reading an English
version of "Por onde andará Dulce Veiga" by Caio Fernando de Abreu, a young
Brazilian writer who had died of AIDS some time ago. It was a story about a
male journalist who is seduced by a beautiful young man, only to discover
their love is doomed because the young one had contracted HIV. It was a
beautiful and sad story. Doomed love was something Fox could understand in
the depths of his heart.
It was wintertime, but there was plenty of sun, and it was only a little
windy. Mulled's fair skin had to be protected with lots of sun block. He
knew that he'd soon be sporting more freckles. The beach was fairly empty but
the sea was lukewarm. The Argentinean family had chosen to sunbathe by the
swimming pool.
Mulder had dinner early, in the hotel's restaurant. He intended to spend the
evening reading his book, or maybe watching some satellite television.
When he was on his way to his room, the receptionist called his attention.
"Sir, there is a message for you." Mulled was handed a plain white envelope.
. He couldn't have felt more surprised. Opening the envelope he took a thin
sheet from it and read.
"This evening. 10pm. The lighthouse. Come by car."
Alex! Alex had followed him to this distant country.
"Who left it?" he asked the boy.
"The other American gentleman, sir"
"Other American?" Is he here at the hotel?" He couldn't help showing his
surprise.
"Yes, he took a room in the west wing."
"Is he here now?"
"No, he left and hasn't come back yet."
Mulder thanked the clerk and went to his room, his mind running wild as he
contemplated the situation The fight. It was their unspeakable fight. He
couldn't believe it. How could Alex have been so deceitful? He had even
chosen to lodge in very same hotel. Not Mulder's best training, or indeed
his paranoia had detected any hint of the hunt.
It was a nerve-wracking wait. Again, his emotions were contradictory.
Although the rational part of his brain kept saying that this man was his
enemy, his body desperately desired to touch Alex. He paced in his room with
nervous energy. In some way he hoped things could be different this time,
maybe they wouldn't have to fight, maybe they'd only touch, maybe...
By five minutes to ten, he'd driven the car along the rocky, windy road which
led to the lighthouse on the top of the cliff. He parked in a dark spot. It
was a pretty desolated place at that hour. The lighthouse was emitting its
luminous signal in a monotonous series of flashes... one, two, three, one,
two, three.. There were some seconds of entire darkness between one sequence
and the next. Shadows engulfed all the surroundings. Only the luminescence
of the river and the waves far below could be seen. One of the shadows
materialized on the passenger's seat. Mulder felt the cold steel of a gun
against his ribs.
"Drive," a throaty voice said.
"To where?'"
"To the river's mouth.'"
They remained silent. Mulder drove the Astra down the dirty road towards the
sea. The road ended by the seashore. From there he would have to drive on
the sand. There were only a few miles of desolated terrain till the river.
Mulder's heart was pounding hard. He was slightly afraid of what would
happen. Maybe this would be their final encounter. All that darkness had
brought them to this distant land. It was a good place for someone to
disappear forever. Fox looked at Alex. The rat bastard was beautiful and
desirable as ever.
The estuary itself was deeply dark. Only the lighthouse's signaling brought
some light to the place. The waters had that strange fluorescence that can
only be seen on the darkest nights. Fishing boats appeared against the black
horizon. They could be on an entire alien planet. Only Fox and Alex remaining
on the face of the earth.
Mulder stopped the car.
"Get out"
He felt a chill wind. He could see nothing than water and sand.
The first blow hit his stomach, the second his face. Even though he had
expected it, he was surprised. The sudden pain prevented him from defending
himself. Alex hit him again and he tried to punch back but Alex seemed
determined to win. He wasn't giving Fox any chances this time.
Mulder was thrown against the sandy ground. Alex was still over him, still
hitting. He felt the blood oozing from his split mouth. He was dazed, not
reacting properly. His mind and his body didn't seem able to fight back.
His body was now entirely subjugated by Alex's. He was being strongly pressed
against the ground. Suddenly, Alex was not beating him anymore. He felt his
mouth being sucked in a desperate kiss. Their tongues swirled in each other's
mouths. Now Alex was licking all the blood from his face.
God! His groin started to ache and he felt Alex's engorged cock against his.
Alex bit his neck and pulled out his tee shirt. Now he was biting and
sucking Fox's nipples, continuing the bittersweet caress down to his navel.
His mind and body were transfigured by the pain, as it turned into unbearable
pleasure.
Still pressing Fox against the ground, Alex moved around till his groin
pressed against Mulder's face. Alex unzipped his jeans and offered his cock
to the other's mouth.
"Suck me."
The cock almost hit the back of Mulder's throat. Fox sucked him into his
mouth, engulfing him in delicious heat. Alex's moans and groans were loud,
but Fox's mind wasn't working anymore. He was lost in the pleasure he was
giving. All the pain was forgotten as his own body desperately enjoyed
Alex's.
Time stood still as he worked, and at last Alex gave a cry as he came into
Fox's mouth. Fox greedily swallowed the salty fluid while Alex's own mouth
moved close, smelling and tasting his semen on Fox's breath.
"Fox, I had to follow you across half the world". It was the first long
sentence that had been spoken since they'd met on the cliffs.
‘Now it's time for you to get something out of our meeting"
Alex's unzipped Fox's jeans, and Fox's cock jumped with a life of its own as
Alex took it into his mouth. He felt Alex licking and sucking, at first
tenderly, and then with increasing roughness. He could feel Alex's cock
hardening again. Using his saliva, Alex fingered Mulder's ass, one finger at
first, then another and another. Mulder started to beg.
"Fuck me, Alex. Fuck me"
Alex turned him and Fox knelt on all fours. Still using his saliva, he
lubricated the other man's ass. He put the condom on his cock And then, at
last, after all the waiting, Alex was inside Fox.
God! Mulder lost himself in pleasure. His body responded to Alex's as though
it knew it was the only place it belonged. Alex fucked him slowly until he
started to beg.
"Please Alex. I'm coming"
And so he was. Pleasure blinded him. Alex came himself as he felt Fox's
gratification. They were limp and at peace, both feeling one with the sand
and the sea. They disengaged and held each other in a tight embrace. As
they laid on the sand in blissful rest. Mulled gazed into Alex's eyes. They
were open; the green light still shone.
"Alex, How did you find me?"
"I was sent here to investigate the same case you were. The rotten old
bastards feared there was some rebel alien base in this country. I hacked
into your computer and found you had booked a flight ticket to Brazil.
"Alex, please stay with me."
"No, Fox. Our lives have followed different paths right from the start. We
will be forever meeting in strange, dark places. There will be no nice
vacations for us together. Only these brief encounters of hate and love."
Fox understood the game. Fight and fuck. Alex desired him as much as he did
Alex. The impossibility of a relationship like other people could have
turned their lives into mere moments of intense emotion.
Slowly they put their clothes on.
"Fox, get in the car."
"And you?"
"I stay here."
Next second Alex had disappeared in the shadows.
Mulder returned to the hotel. At the reception desk, he asked the clerk if
the other American had already come back.
"Sorry, sir. He closed his account and left a few minutes ago."
Mulder slumped. Next morning he would start his journey back home. Suddenly
it felt as though this country had nothing more to offer him.
Brazilian Beat
by vera
It was his first vacation in what seemed like forever. He felt he needed it
after all he had endured in the last months. He was tired, lonely and
drained. The Lone Gunmen had suggested the choice of destination for his
vacation. Nerd to the last, they had found a Brazilian site on the Internet
which reported UFO sightings in Brazil. It seemed as if the country was
collecting a gathering of UFOs. What was very odd was that people seemed to
have a kind of religious respect for the places where they were sighted.
