Addiction and Volition
by Jori

Set during the events of Turning and Returning but before the events of Switching and Effects , Mulder spends the night racing to what he needs the most. NC-17 for m/m sex.

Just a little bit of smut to wish my good friend MoJo a very Happy Birthday!!


Addiction and Volition
by Jori

FBI Headquarters
Washington, DC
July 23, 1991
5:15 p.m.

I have to get to him. I can't stand it any longer. Days have turned into weeks and there is no other word for what I feel inside besides 'ache.' Not some sorrowful, sappy romance novel ache that centers around my heart and nowhere else. No, that isn't it. I 'ache' for him everywhere. I can't lie about it. My mouth aches to kiss him. My body aches to feel him near. My goddamn cock aches to be touched by him again.

I call his office and they say he is out, gone on some Jagman investigation. Something about Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay somewhere on the southern Georgia coast. No, he wouldn't be back today. Probably not even tomorrow but if I need to reach Lt. Rabb, he is staying at something called the BOQ on base. I hang up the phone, frustrated as hell. I was hoping to at least hear his voice. To quench this . . . desire? Shit. Let's call it what it is . . . horniness. I want him and I want him now. Not two or three days from now when he is done investigating some damn submariner.

Looking at my watch, I start to make some plans in my head. It's five o'clock already. Rush hour is going to be a bitch, but there was only one thing to do.

Drive to him tonight.

****************

I-395 South
Alexandria, Virginia
6:45 p.m.


"No, Diana, I won't be home tonight," I say, glad that I had my traveling bag with me and I didn't have to go home first and face her. The traffic is horrible as I try to get to I-95 and this would be so much easier to concentrate on if she'd stop bitching at me.

"I took all the paperwork on the case with me. I have it right here. I'll be back either tomorrow or the next day . . . no, you don't have to meet me there. I'm sure I can handle this all by myself. I'll call you tomorrow," I say, turning the phone off and tossing it onto the passenger seat. Damn thing is to big to hold when driving anyway.

By the time I'm cruising south on 95, the sun has already begun to set and I can't believe I'm doing this. I haven't driven all night for this since I was at Oxford and Phoebe was visiting friends in Glasgow. I thought I was over that stage in my life where I need someone so desperately that I'd go anywhere on earth for them.

I should call him, but I'm afraid of what he'll say. He's working. This is wrong. I don't know what I'm thinking. I know what I'm thinking with, but this is a dangerous game I'm playing now. If I'm standing there, will he turn me away or does he want this thing going on between us to continue as badly as I do? I try to remember our last time together. . . the baseball game. Just two guys out to a game on a Sunday afternoon. No one could tell anything let alone how badly I wanted to fuck the man sitting in the seat next to me. No one should be able to tell anything this time, either.

Or so I hope.

****************

I-95
West of Savannah, Georgia
July 24, 1991
4:05 a.m.

"I'm sorry. I'll slow down," I say to the Georgia Highway Patrol officer standing outside my window looking as uptight as he could possibly look without snapping. He's got to be in his mid-twenties and looks like his choices in life included this job or pumping gas for his uncle Earl.

I hand him my bureau ID and everything else he asks for.

"What's the hurry, Agent . . . Mulder?" he asks in a slow, southern drawl, shining his Mag-Lite at my badge and then back at me.

"I'm involved in a joint investigation with the U.S. Navy concerning an incident down at Kings Bay," I lie. What am I supposed to say? I'm involved with a U.S. Naval officer investigating something at Kings Bay and if I don't get to him, my dick is going to explode?

"Well, just slow down. I doubt it is important enough to get killed over, is it?" he asks, handing me back my ID and registration.

"That all depends . . ." I mumble.

"Excuse me, sir?" the young officer asks.

"I said I'll slow down," I lie. Again.

Damn. That wasted fifteen minutes of my time.

****************

Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay
6:26 a.m.

My handy badge gets me onto the base but not without them calling Harmon Rabb to verify that he had an FBI agent coming to deliver information concerning the case. So much for my surprise attack. They give me directions to the BOQ and I am so damn tired the guard has to repeat them twice.

It's an ungodly hour in the morning and most of the base is up and going. It doesn't look like Rabb was ready for this, though. He's waiting for me out in front of the building dressed in running shorts and shoes and a tank top. The call must have woke him up. He's got his hands on his hips and he looks pissed. Very, very pissed.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" he asks before I can even get out of the car, his voice an angry whisper. He leans over my open door, leaving me only enough room to get out and stand on the opposite side so we face each other. I'm forced to look up at him from this position and I'm sure he thinks that puts him in some sort of control.

"I, uh . . . had to see you?"

It's a crappy excuse but it's all I've got.

"And I'm sure this has nothing to do with the Cooper investigation, right?" he asks, already knowing the answer to that. His jaw is set and when he's not asking me something, his lips are pursed tight and there's no way in hell he's going to be smiling about my appearance this time.

"I don't even know who Cooper is. Your office said you were investigating something here. I had to . . . I drove here. Harm . . ." I say, trying to reason with him about my unreasonable act.

"Fox, I'm working. It's the biggest case they've let me help investigate so far and that's a lot considering I'm barely a lawyer at this point. I don't need anyone to fuck this up. Not even you," he says, his voice low and angry.

"I'm sorry . . . I'll go home. This was stupid. All of this was so fucking stupid," I say. I go to get back in my car so I can find a damn hotel room and get a couple hours of sleep before crawling back to DC with my tail between my legs.

"Who's your friend, Lieutenant?" a raspy female voice asks from near the trunk of the car and we both jump. I didn't hear her approach and apparently, neither did Rabb.

"Commander Krennick, This is Special Agent Mulder, with the FBI. I was just explaining to him that he needs to instruct the bureau that we don't need any help on this case," Rabb says, his eyes narrowing on me.

"I don't know. We could always use the advice . . ." she starts but doesn't go any further. I look back at her and she's eyeballing me up and down carefully as if I were a used car she was about to put a down payment on.

She fits in her white uniform perfectly and she knows it. She puffs her breasts out enough for me to notice and I wish I could laugh at this situation. This woman is trying to pick me up or make Rabb jealous and all I'm here to do is be with him and she probably has no clue.

"He's leaving . . ."

"I'm leaving . . ."

We both say it at the same time and she raises an eyebrow at us.

"I'm going to go get a bite to eat, Lieutenant. We have our first deposition at 0930 and I don't want to be late. I don't want you to be late, either . . ." she practically purrs at him.

"I won't be," Rabb says without ever turning his head to acknowledge the tall blonde woman. She takes a few steps backward before finally going her own way. When my eyes are set back on his again, I know I'm about to catch hell.

"She didn't need to see this," Rabb says, stepping back away from the door.

"She didn't see anything. I am an FBI agent and if she wants to verify that she's more than welcome to," I say as I slide back into the driver's seat of the car.

He shuts his eyes briefly as if he's trying to make some decision against all his better judgment.

"I have about three hours until I have to be at that deposition. Do you want to go grab something to eat . . . off base?" he asks, opening his eyes and looking at me again. Shit, I could drown in those eyes. I turn away and look at all the dead bugs splattered against the windshield. That's what we are heading for with this. He knows it. I know it. Sooner or later, the damn windshield is going to catch up to us.

"Sure," I say, watching him through that gut-covered window as he walks around the car and climbs in on the passenger side.

****************

Mom's Famous Diner
St. Marys, Georgia
7:34 a.m.

"You look like shit," Rabb says, his hand going out to sweep my bangs off of my forehead. He pulls back quickly after realizing his indiscretion and then looks around to make sure no one noticed his actions.

"I was up all night. I spent the night driving," I say again and he just nods. We are waiting for a table at a busy diner a few miles off base and we are certainly the oddest couple here. I'm still in my dress shirt and pants, though my tie was discarded long ago and Rabb's dressed to run a marathon. There's no hiding the fact that he's in the military. He fits right in to the community here with his haircut and posture.

Rabb keeps looking around nervously and I wish this didn't have to be like this. If we were just friends who played ball and talked about women and had never engaged in any sort of sexual activity, he wouldn't act like he has a scarlet Q for 'queer' tattooed across his forehead. It was a wonderful line we crossed, but I doubt either of us will be completely comfortable with it out in public.

"Come this way, gentlemen." The frazzled hostess grabs two menus and escorts us to a booth stuck way in the back corner. It is so far out of the way that Rabb has to move the a line of old high chairs out of the way just to squeeze into his side and his eyes keep searching the room for a place a little less private. "Sorry. We usually don't put anybody back here unless we have to, but we are hopping today. You fit in there, honey? Why don't you stick your skinny friend back there instead?" she ask, putting her arm on mine.

"No, this is fine," Rabb says, sliding in and shoving the table away from him just a little.

"Thanks," I say, and she assures us she'll be right back to take our orders.

"What's this about, Fox?" Rabb asks in a near whisper, leaning toward me across the table. We drove here in a nervous silence sporadically broken by him giving me directions to this location. How he knew were to go is beyond me. Maybe he was at this base before but that seems strange for a former aviator.

"I already told you. I needed to see you," I say, leaning forward as far as he did. "This seems all the more suspicious if you keep whispering."

He sits back against the vinyl booth and it makes a poof sound as he settles in.

"Why?" he asks, his voice just a tiny bit louder. He's still not comfortable. I don't care. I still want him so badly it aches everywhere now. I wish I could just lean over this table and kiss him. I want to taste him, to open his mouth with mine and explore everything right before I slide kisses down his neck . . .

"Because I wanted to," I answer. There needs to be no more explanation. I want him. I want to see him. What more does he need to know?

"My job, Fox, as you are well aware, doesn't allow me to run off and . . . engage in certain activities at a drop of a hat," he says, quieting down when the waitress comes back to the table to offer us coffee. We both nod yes at her and she fills two old, ugly cups and leaves the carafe behind after taking our order. Doesn't appear that either one of us is hungry. I'm not hungry for food at least. I know what I want in my mouth and it isn't hash and eggs.

"I know that, Harm. That's not what I wanted," I lie and he knows it. I can tell my his short chuckle that leads to the first smile I've seen.

"What is you did want? Coffee and uneasy conversation in a rundown diner? Hell, if I had known making you happy was as easy as that . . ."

"You know what I want," I interrupt and our eyes stay locked on the others for a while. Neither of us breaks the stare until he grabs for the creamer to pour into his coffee. I doubt he actually takes coffee with cream. I think it just gives him something to do.

"I know," he finally answers, shutting his eyes for a few seconds longer than a blink. He wants it, too. He just doesn't want to pay the price for it. A part of me is pissed. I wish I were worth giving it all up for. No one has ever given up that much for me and the first person that does will be the one. I wish Harmon Rabb was the one but I know in just a short time he's got to go don a white uniform and go question someone. He wouldn't be happy doing it without that damn uniform. He'd be successful at it, he just wouldn't be happy.

Neither of us says anything until the waitress delivers our food. He picks at his egg white and vegetable omelette while I take a forkful of hashbrowns and try to chew them. I'm sure they are good, but they aren't satisfying right now. It is like eating hay when you want caviar.

He has only eaten about half of his meal when he pushes the plate toward the middle of the table, nearly spilling my coffee.

"I can't do this," he says, getting up out of the booth and walking toward the door quickly.

"Fuck," I say a little too loudly as I put enough bills on the table to cover the check and hurry after him. A series of elderly heads turn as I rush by and I hear a few of them go 'tsk tsk' in the process. Fuck them, too.

He's leaning on the car by the time I catch up to him, his ass against the trunk, his arms across his chest.

"What was that about?" I ask as I approach him. I pull the keys out of my pocket, prepared to drive him back to the base, drop him off and never see him again.

"Jesus, Fox. Do you think you are the only one who wants this? I want you so bad right now I can't even think . . . can't even eat, but I've got a job to do. It isn't something that I can just give up or forget about. There are consequences . . ."

"Shut up and get in the car," I say in my best federal agent voice. I'm tired of his damn job. Tired of the parts of my life that keep me away from what I want. What we feel in our hearts should be more important. It just should.

He blinks at me twice before he smiles. Then he laughs loudly and I start laughing, too.

"Are you going to handcuff me?" he asks, still laughing.

"If I have to," I say in a growl and he gets into the car. Our doors are barely closed before we are all over each other and I'm so damn glad we ended up parked behind the restaurant where there are only one or two other cars. I'm hoping they don't belong to the old people in there but to the short order cook. And I'm hoping he doesn't get off work until noon.

His mouth opens under mine just like I was hoping it would and our tongues fight over who has the right away. I love the feel of his mouth. I love the feel of being inside of him in the only place he'll allow me in freely right now. I wish we had time for more. I wish I could feel his cock in more places than just my mouth, but we aren't going to have the time for that, nor do we have the supplies. And a Naval officer and an FBI agent getting caught fucking each other outside of 'Mom's Famous Diner' would most certainly make front page news here.

I pull my mouth from his, wanting more than just kisses. I want to feel him tremble under my mouth, to feel his skin quiver under my tongue. I taste his neck, lapping up the sweaty-sleepy taste that resides there. I've seen him wake up in the morning. I've tasted that flavor of Rabb before. It's one of the better ones.

His one hand grabs the armrest on the car door and the other rests on my back, just short of pushing my head down faster than I'm already going. My one hand slides up and under his tanktop and I feel the muscles flutter as I brush my hand across his abdomen. My other hand is on his cock already, feeling it harden under my touch. I wish I understood what this attraction was created from. There's not another man on earth that I've ever wanted to do this to and there's no explanation for it. I like explanations for things like this, but this one is truly a mystery.

This is a bitch to do with bucket seats and the middle console in the way, but it will take more than that to stop me. I slip my hand under the elastic band of his shorts to discover that there's nothing more in my way. I did wake him up. He didn't even have time to get dressed in anymore than a shirt, shorts and shoes.

There's already some pre-come at the head of his cock and my thumb brushes through it, spreading the tiny drop of moisture as far as it will go. My hand works up and down on him until my mouth can't wait any longer. I pull his shorts down just enough to free him and then I dip my head down to his lap, my tongue circling the tip of him greedily, not able to control myself. It is as if he's some sort of sacrament that I need to save my very soul, when I know that it's all just the opposite.

"Fox . . ." he moans as I wrap my lips around him and settle down to the business of getting him off. My own cock is so hard that it is straining against the front of my pants and I won't be able to stand it cooped up in there much longer. His fingers move through my hair as I continue to take him in my mouth and work my tongue around him.

Rabb begins to buck up in my mouth and I don't stop him. I want to feel him fuck me even if this is the best we can manage. His hand moves from my hair down to my own crotch, and it is then I realize exactly how cramped for space we are in here. The steering wheel has been pressing against me this whole time and I was so caught up in it all that I didn't notice. Fuck. An 18 wheeler could be sitting beside us with its engine running and at this point, I wouldn't notice.

His hand that's not stroking me moves to the base of his cock and he begins to jerk himself off furiously as I keep my mouth over the head, my tongue lapping around and around, waiting for his moment of release. I want to taste him. Want to feel him explode down my throat.

And before I can even finish that thought, he does. His hands both go to the dashboard, and I can hear his fingernails scratching against the plastic surface as his orgasm moves through his whole body and then moves from his to mine. I swallow every drop of salty, sticky come that he wants to give up and the whole thing makes me want to come all that much more.

He pushes me up from his lap until I'm sitting and his hands race to get my zipper undone. I rock up a little so he can pull down everything just far enough to get access to my cock. The joyous moan that escapes my throat when he wraps his fist around me is that of a man who was just saved from drowning.

We both roll our heads toward each other on the headrests, our eyes not parting. There's so much going on behind his and I wish he would just tell me one-quarter of it but right now this is nothing but physical and any of that can wait until later. When we are both back in DC. When we are on the phone and not so emotionally raw and exposed.

After building up to this moment all night, it doesn't take me long to come. I feel everything begin to tighten starting way down in my toes and finally, it all springs loose and I cry out his name a little louder than someone in a public parking lot should. I watch his eyes move from mine to the fluid arcing out of me and across his hand.

Both of us just sit there, still panting. Suddenly, I feel like a $25 whore but the smile that slowly moves across his face takes those thoughts right out of my head. He wouldn't be doing this with a man unless he wanted to be doing it with me. He's not using me for a quick blowjob in the front seat of a Ford Taurus when there's so much to lose.

He wipes his hand off on the edge of the seat and I'll just leave that up to the FBI to figure out. We adjust our clothes, tucking in all the body parts that shouldn't be hanging out when two men who are supposed to be friends are sitting in a car just talking.

"You know . . . I've been thinking lately. Does this make us gay?" Rabb asks, looking out the window as I still work on getting my shirt tucked in.

"I don't think so," I say absentmindedly, starting the car so I can get some fresh air moving through here. I smells like pure male sex without even the slightest hint of anything female around us. And I'm telling him we aren't gay. What a joke.

"You just gave me one hell of a blowjob an hour before I have to go back and be an officer in the Navy again and I gave you a handjob and you are going to drive back to your girlfriend you don't like as much as you like me and yet, we aren't gay," Rabb says, scoffing. Shit. I wish he wouldn't fucking do this every time we touch each other.

"It's you, Harm. Only you. There is no other man on this damn planet I'd drive all night for. Just you. Whether that makes me gay or not, I don't know. I don't give a damn because I want you and I don't give a shit what labels go with that," I say, my tone sharper than I intended it to be.

He turns to look at me and something unreadable passes over his face. "What about my career? Do you care about what labels they would put on me?"

I sigh. We are right back to where we always are. The damn United States Navy. "Yes. I care. I care because you care. It's what makes you everything you are. It's what I'm going to take you back to right now. And you want to know something, Harm? It is worse than taking you back to some damn girlfriend. With that, I'd at least have a chance of talking you into leaving her. But there's no way in hell I can talk you into leaving 'it' and everything this job means to you."

"Well, that certainly keeps you safe, doesn't it? No need to ever leave your girlfriend if I pose no serious threat. Shit. We sound like women, Fox. I'm worried about us being gay when what we should be worried about is turning into women," Harm says with a half chuckle.

"I don't think we have to worry about that yet," I say as I watch him wipe his hand across his shirt trying to remove all traces of me.

"No, but I do have to worry about getting back and getting to that deposition on time. Are you going to stay around . . ." he starts to ask but I'm already shaking my head 'no.' "Any reason why not?"

"You're right. This is too risky. As much as I want to spend my days here in lovely coastal Georgia with the amazing thoughts of fucking you later running through my head, it just isn't right. I'll find someplace more private for us to get away to. Does that sound good?" I ask and he looks away before saying yes in a near whisper to the window.

****************

Naval Submarine Base Kings Bay
9:07 a.m.

I leave him at the entrance at his choosing. I guess there is no need to run into that woman with her sultry voice asking us what we think we are doing. I don't know if I'd want to lie this time. I'd love to see the look on her face as I told her I just got done giving Rabb a blowjob. I'm sure her little mouth would twist into a pout. I could tell exactly what she was like from just seeing her that short time. She wants Rabb but not quite as much as I do.

His hand brushes over mine quickly as he opens the passenger door to get out. It is just a little touch, but it is electric. One of those where if anybody else had seen it, they'd know.

"Drive carefully," he says, before he shuts the door and leaves me. He'll be late if he doesn't hurry. I watch him jog away and back to what he loves best.

I pull away from the base and head back to what I love least.



The End