AROUSAL

by Alison

Feedback: xalison@hotmail.com

Category: Slash, Mulder/Byers

Rating: NC-17 for m/m relationship

Disclaimer: not mine, etc

Spoilers: Nope

Archive: Ephemeral, Gossamer, Unusual Suspects, Basement: anyone else please ask

Summary: Byers' agrees to help Mulder out, but it leads to more than they both bargained for.



AROUSAL
By Alison

The coffee shop off the Mall in downtown Washington was quiet that Tuesday afternoon in the hiatus after the lunchtime rush. When the pale skinny teenage boy carrying a plastic shopping carrier paused in the doorway to scan the occupants, he quickly picked out the man he had come to meet, sipping a latte in a secluded booth at the back. Tall, darkhaired, in a smart business suit, he looked more like an advertising excecutive than the FBI agent the boy knew him to be. But he matched the description he had given during their telephone conversation the previous evening, and the boy was scared enough to take the risk.

The boy inched cautiously towards the other man between the tables, so intent on his mission that he did not see that he was himself being observed from a table in the opposite corner. Another suited man, also dark haired, bearded, a little shorter, a little younger, a little less composed, but but he didn't take his eyes off the newcomer.

The boy slid into the seat opposite the agent, who nodded at him. "Duncan. Thought you'd changed your mind."

The boy looked around nervously before putting the plastic sack on the table between them. He licked his lips nervously.

"Look, Agent Mulder . . . I've heard I can trust you, and I've done what you said. The stuff is in the sack. Now just let me get outta here, I dont want any more of this."

The agent tipped the sack upside down, and a thick wad of typescript fell out onto the table, along with several white plastic tubes. He picked one up for a closer look. The only identification was a computer-printed label bearing an identification number and under it, in capitals, the single word: "AROUSAL".

Mulder turned it over in his hands and started to unscrew the cap. The boy grabbed his sleeve. "Don't get it on you."

The agent raised one eyebrow questioningly, but reached for a paper napkin from the neighbouring table and squeezed a little of the contents into it. "It just looks like ordinary lube."

"Well, it's not, I'm telling you. According to the notes, it's got some sort of chemical additive with some really weird side effects."

"Okay, so tell me again, just how did it you get hold of it, Duncan?"

The boy looked away. "A friend of mine . . . he was working as a cleaner in a research lab in Georgetown, near the University. They were working on cloning of livestock, but the chief researcher, this guy Evans, he had a personal project he was working on, using lab facilities . . . my friend saw some notes he was working on and it was something about a follow up to Viagra."

"Okay. Go on."

"So anyway, Ross . . my friend, he figures he'd like a piece of that. He'd met a guy in a bar that said he'd pay him for anything he could get. He was planning to quit anyway, so his last night he snuck around to see what he could find . . .

The agent sighed. "Something tells me I know what happened next. He just happened to find the lab door unlocked . . ."

Duncan nodded. "Something like that. Anyway he walked out with *that*", and he prodded the pile of tubes.

"Then when he drove past the next day . . . there'd been a fire, the place had burned to the ground. Evans was toast . . . all his notes, everything had gone. What Ross had, was all there was."

Mulder nodded. "I've seen the preliminary report on the fire, and the autopsy. They say it was an electrical fault. And Evans died of smoke inhalation. It was an accident."

"No way. The next day, someone turned Ross's place over. They didn't find the stuff, he'd hidden it . . . somewhere else. That was when he told me about it. The guy from the bar had disappeared, so we figured we had to get rid of it, that's when I called you, but then this morning . . . coming from his place to meet me . . . Ross was mugged . . . he was found in an alleyway, he'd been hit over the head and they'd taken everything he had on him. He's in the hospital, unconscious . . ."

Duncan broke off, scrubbing his hand across his face. Mulder waited patiently for him to regain his composure, flicking through the notes while he waited. "Is the formula in here as well?"

The boy shook his head, sniffing. "No, according to Ross, Evans just kept that in his head. All there is, is in those notes. Ross said he was a real paranoid old bastard."

The agent smiled as if at a a private joke. "Don't underrate paranoia, Duncan." He indicated the notes. "You've read 'em?"

The boy flushed. "No . . . I don't read too good. Ross was the one who knew all about it." He took a deep breath.

"I just want out, Agent Mulder. I'm scared to go back to my place. I don't know what that stuff is and I don't care. All I know is my friend is in the hospital because of that, and I want out, before they come after me." He was becoming increasingly agitated, and Mulder put out a hand to restrain him.

The boy pulled away, jumping to his feet. "No, please - you said I could trust you. Please, just take it and let me go."

He wrenched his wrist out of Mulder's grasp and headed out of the cafe at a run.

Byers came over from the table where he had been keeping watch. "You're not going after him?"

Mulder shook his head regretfully. "No point. He's too scared to testify, even if we could prove anything. And whoever is behind this is too smart to leave any tracks."

"But don't you think he's in danger?"

"Yeah, but I can't protect him if he won't let me. All I can do is put the word out on the streets that a package from the lab has come into the possession of the FBI. That might help."

Byers slipped into the seat vacated by Duncan as Mulder quickly skimmed through the pages of notes. What he read made his hair stand on end. Evans had struck gold, discovered what chemists had been trying to achieve for hundreds of years. A compound that guaranteed arousal, with immediate effect on both males and females, absorbed through the skin when applied in the form of lubrication.

Mulder quickly realised that Duncan could have no idea what he had got hold of. If the stuff was genuine the formula could be worth a fortune. No wonder there was more than one group of people out there who would like to get their hands on it.

And, Mulder admitted, he would like a chance to get a closer look, maybe even a personal sample, for himself.

He looked up at Byers. "I'd like to take a closer look at this -can we take it back to your HQ and run some tests?"

Byers nodded. "Sure. I don't know that I can be as effective as Agent Scully, it's a pity she's away. But I can try."

Mulder tipped the tubes into the plastic sack Duncan had given him. He didn't feel the tiny touch of wetness on his wrist from one of the plastic tubes that was not quite as tightly sealed as the others.

Perhaps he would have been more worried if he had read to the end of the sheaf of notes, and seen the hastily scrawled handwritten notes on the last page.

ALL TESTS DISCONTINUED on this batch. Present formula at dangerously strong concentration. Uncontrollable reaction observed in test subjects. Reaction spread from primary test subject to secondary subject through simple skin contact due to high absorbtion in primary subject's body. ALL FURTHER WORK TO CEASE IMMEDIATELY AND ALL STOCKS OF PRESENT FORMULA TO BE DESTROYED."

---000---

They had come in Byers' car, and as they drove back to the HQ Mulder couldn't help sneaking the occasional sideways glance at Byers as he drove. The late afternoon sun was shining through the car window, silhouetting his hair in a halo of red gold.

Mulder was struck by the fact that Byers seemed much more relaxed these days; less tense and defensive. He smiled more; seemed more at ease with himself, less nervous. It had been only recently that Mulder had learned about the relationship between the two younger Gunmen. He had known Byers and Langly for ten years, and while he had no problem in accepting their relationship, he couldn't help a little curious speculation about the idea that two of his best friends had developed a deeply passionate sexual attachment.

Whatever games they play, Langly must be good for him, he thought enviously.

It seemed warm in the car: Mulder loosened his collar and pulled his tie down a little, turning slightly sideways to look at Byers more closely. It seemed strange to see him now without his constant companion.

"Where's Langly, anyway?"

"Gone to visit an aunt of his, it's her birthday."

"You didn't go with him?"

Byers smiled secretively. "He didn't think she'd be very comfortable with knowing about us."

"Does she have to know?"

Byers shrugged. "She's one of the few relatives he has that he's still talking to . . . he thinks a lot of her. He doesn't want to upset her." He spoke fondly, an affectionate smile curving his mouth, and Mulder felt a touch of envy. If only Scully and me had that . . . we have the closeness, the security of knowing we can trust each other utterly, but it could be so much more . . . she's so gorgeous . . . the sun on her hair, her perfume . . . how about it, Scully . . .

"- Mulder?"

Mulder jumped. Byers was looking curiously at him. "Sorry, Byers, what did you say?"

"Oh, nothing . . . I said Langly'll be back tonight, so I want to be finished by then."

"Um . . . sure." Mulder looked harder at Byers. He realised that Byers was looking good these days too: Hard to say why, but there was just something in the way he looked, the way he moved, as if he was more aware of his body, took pleasure in being young and fit and goodlooking and . . . desired. Mulder allowed his thoughts to stray to picture the two in bed together. Byers, his head thrown back against the pillow, body arching, writhing in ecstasy, crying out uncontrollably, lost in his orgasm . . .

Mulder dragged his mind back to the present, somewhat conscious that his thoughts had started a familiar pulsing in his groin. Jeez, not here . . . guess it's been too long. When was the last time?

He wound down the window and took deep breaths. It's a warm afternoon . . . and I've been thinking way too much about Scully since she's been gone. I miss her . . . yes, that's all it is . . .

---000---

When they arrived back at the HQ neither of the other Gunmen were around, to Mulder's relief. He really didn't want Frohike's curiosity or lewd comments about the contents of the tubes, nor Langly's cynical derision. But Byers believed him. Yes, he could trust Byers. Byers was a great guy, a good friend . . .

While Byers was locking up behind them, Mulder dumped the bag on the workbench, looking around him. The impressive array of equipment ranged along the back wall looked as effective as anything he had seen in the FBI laboratories, and he knew Byers was expert in chemical analysis, as he had shown in the past with his analysis of Scully's blood during her illness.

He looked up as Byers came back into the office, and watched the Gunman as he moved around, setting up the equipment competently and calmly as in everything else he did. It crossed Mulder's mind that he didn't need Scully after all. Byers could do everything he needed, reliably and efficiently, without fuss or argument.

Byers called over his shoulder - "Okay, we're ready - bring it over here and we can take a look."

Mulder upended the plastic sack on the table and shook the tubes out into his hand. He felt a warm sticky sensation on his palm and a tingling shot up his arm like fire. He yelped and dropped the tubes on the table. "Hey . . . . jeez, one of them's leaked -." He pulled out a handkerchief and scrubbed at his hand, but his hand continued to tingle, not unpleasantly, spreading from one to the other as the lube came in contact with his other hand, spreading up both arms, into his chest, his head.

Byers looked over. "Hey, you'd better wash it off. We don't know what effect it might have."

The warmth was spreading all over Mulder's body, an increasing excitement, a reckless feeling possessing him. He giggled. "No, wait - maybe a guinea pig is just what we need here."

Byers frowned, coming over towards him. "Mulder, you crazy? We don't know what side effects that stuff might have. You of all people should know better than that."

The other man's voice seemed to be coming from a great distance, as if muffled in some way. Mulder took a deep breath and looked across at him, and felt his heart almost stop. A wave of heat swept over his entire body as though he had been suddenly plunged into hot water. He blinked and stared at the man standing next to him as if he had never seen him before.

Confusion swept over Mulder as he felt himself starting to become hard; his pulse rate was increasing as was his breathing and his palms were becoming damp, his hands shaking slightly. He couldn't take his eyes off Byers as he stood just a few feet away, the dim lighting of the HQ highlighting his hair with a soft copper glow that reminded Mulder painfully, again, of Scully. But the intense blue eyes were regarding him with none of Scully's cynicism, only friendly concern. Why would he be thinking of Scully now . . . red hair and blue eyes . . . John . . tall and lean . . . remember seeing him in the hospital, when I made him give me his clothes . . . so shy, but so beautiful . . .

He brought his hand up and wiped his fingers round his hairline, finding it slick with sweat. He was so hot; his armpits were damp and sweat was trickling down his back. There was a deep growing heat in his groin, tightening his balls, a familiar fluttering in his stomach increasing simultaneously with his growing erection. He felt dizzy; the ache in his groin was spreading throughout his whole body, his mouth was dry and his chest tight with a mixture of panic and arousal. This simply couldn't be happening in this totally inappropriate time and place; he tried to fight it, shutting his eyes and turning away from Byers, trying to take deep breaths.

Byers' voice, husky and gentle, broke through his attempts to focus and centre himself. "Mulder, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Jesus, why had he never realised what a sexy voice the guy had? God - if he comes any closer, if he touches me -

He shook his head and managed to stumble a few steps away. "I'll be okay, just a bit dizzy -"

Closer now, just behind him - "Mulder, you're sick. Come and sit down -"

Mulder managed to swing his outstretched arm back behind him, fending Byers off. "No, just leave me alone -"

"Mulder-" and a hand on his arm, just a simple human contact but the sensation shot through him like an electric shock. He swung round to face Byers and his hands came up of their own accord, grabbing the younger man by the shoulders. "I told you to leave me alone!"

Face to face with him now, only inches away and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the blue ones now staring into his own with real concern. "John-" and his hands came up of their own accord, fingertips still sticky with lube caressing the other man's face, stroking over his beard, down, feeling the pulse points in the neck. Byers jerked and gasped and his face flushed, his hands came up and grabbed Mulder's wrists. Grabbed them and held them, but made no move to push them away as he stared back into Mulder's eyes. He swallowed audibly and his lips parted, his tongue came out to moisten them and his breathing quickened.

Mulder wrenched his hands free and grabbed Byers' head in both hands, running his fingers through the silky dark softness. Byers' gasp was quenched by Mulder's mouth fastening on his in desperation, tongue thrusting in deep and fierce. But Byers' mouth opened under his, submitting, taking him in, and his arms came up round Mulder's shoulders and pulled him close. Blinded with lust, his heart hammering, Mulder pushed against him, trying to clamp their bodies even closer, but his knees buckled under him and he fell to the floor, dragging Byers down with him.

They fell to the floor in a heap beside the couch, Mulder landing on top and pinning Byers down with his weight. He held Byers' wrists in each of his hands either side of the other man's head and kissed him again roughly, tongue thrusting hard into Byers' mouth in tempo with the thrust of his hips against the man beneath him. Byers' mouth opened under his own, responding eagerly with a lust that matched Mulder's own as the drug entered his system. Soon he was moaning frantically and thrusting back against Mulder with equal fervour.

Mulder hitched himself up and began to tear at the buttons on Byers' shirt, ripping it off impatiently then pulling at the belt and fumbling with the zipper. Byers' hands were on Mulder's hips, divesting him of his pants at the same time and freeing his erection. As soon as they were both free Mulder pushed down again, thrusting his aching cock against Byers' equally ready erection. Byers cried out and his hands tightened on Mulder's back. His head fell back and Mulder fastened his teeth on the exposed throat, biting hard.

With his free hand he reached out for the tube which had fallen to the floor beside him, smearing it thickly on his fingers before grasping and caressing his own now painfully hard cock. He pushed Byers' legs apart, fingers pushing quickly up behind his balls to find the opening and thrusting in. Byers cried out again and shuddered as the drug in the lube was quickly absorbed by his sensitive tissues, further heightening his arousal.

Mulder pushed himself up onto hands and knees, grabbing Byers by the shoulders, rolling him over and pushing his legs further apart. Down again on top of him, Mulder grasped his cock firmly in one hand and pushed in with a sob of relief.

The sensations pouring into Mulder's body from the increased concentration of the drug in his system were now overwhelming. He thrust frenziedly, aware of nothing but the need for his own release. Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny portion of his consciousness was aware of what was happening in a detached way as if watching a movie, but the familiar sensations of arousal overwhelmed him and carried him away like a twig swept away in a flood.

He tightened his clutching hands on Byers' shoulders and thrust harder, desperately, shutting his eyes tight and trying to convince himself that the taut muscular frame under him was the softer supple body he had desired for so long. He buried his face in the dark red hair, almost able to convince himself it was the other, fiery mane he had so longed to touch.

Byers was jerking back into his thrusts, crying out with each jolt into his body. His body arched as his orgasm hit him, and Mulder felt his whole body tense and shudder. His internal muscles spasmed involuntarily around Mulder's cock and Mulder yelled in surprise as the sensation triggered his own violent orgasm. Several more uncontrollable thrusts shook him as he shot into the man beneath him, pressing his mouth against Byers' neck as if trying to possess even more of him. He felt Byers go limp under him before he too lost consciousness.

*******

Mulder lay panting, resting his forehead on Byers' shoulder. Byers was still shuddering, his limbs twitching in the aftermath of his orgasm, totally out of it. Mulder caught his breath and pulled out of Byers, lifting his body up a little before subsiding down on top of him again.

Presently he pushed himself up, still a little breathless, looking down at Byers. Byers still seemed barely conscious, hardly stirring as Mulder pulled himself off him, and only moaning softly as Mulder turned him over on to his back. Mulder scrambled to his feet and stood looking down at his friend's unmoving body as he adjusted his clothing. He looked utterly helpless and very desirable as he lay still, his body exposed, half naked with his clothing disarranged, there for the taking.

Mulder felt a stirring in his groin again, returning heat and pulse dragging at him, and he knelt down again between Byers' legs. He reached out, stroking his hand down Byers' stomach, through the hair on his abdomen and down to his cock. He caressed it gently, rubbing his thumb up and down the shaft, squeezing the hardening organ in rising excitement. His other hand stroked up and down Byers' thigh, cupping his balls at every upward stroke and allowing his finger to brush against his opening.

He heard Byers moan and looked up at his face, seeing his eyes slit open, watching Mulder's face, and heard him whisper "Mulder . . ."

Mulder was overcome with a wave of self-disgust and concern as he realised how close he had come to repeating his abuse of his friend; and his desire dissipated and was replaced by tenderness and affection. He reached out and touched his friend's face gently. "John . . ." He shifted position till he was sitting beside Byers, leaning back against the couch, and pulled him up into his arms with Byers' head resting on his chest. Byers' weight relaxed against him and Mulder realised he had gone to sleep. He tightened his arms around the younger man and rested his cheek on the top of Byers' head, holding him protectively, gently stroking his sweat-streaked face.

Half an hour had passed before Byers stirred, sighing in his sleep and then drowsily raising his head. He smiled muzzily into Mulder's face, still obviously disorientated.

Mulder drew away a little, allowing Byers to push himself up into a sitting position against the back of the couch. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, shaking his head in puzzlement, before focusing on Mulder again in consternation as his memory returned. "Mulder . . . oh god, what happened . . ."

"Byers . . . John . . . I'm sorry, it was my fault, I couldn't stop myself. That stuff . . whatever was in it -"

Byers shook his head, the confusion gradually clearing from his eyes. "No - it affected me too. It wasn't just you, Mulder, I felt it too. As soon as you touched me, it was like I couldn't stop either. I didn't want you to stop."

Mulder buried his head in his hands. "No, I should have been able to stop . . . god, John, that I should do this to one of my best friends - I'm so sorry -"

After a few minutes he felt Byers' hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly for a moment. "Mulder, don't blame yourself. We both should have taken more care."

Mulder didn't move or reply, and after a while he felt Byers get up and leave him and move away stiffly towards the bathroom. Mulder pulled himself up onto the couch and sat there staring at the wall, his mind a morass of self-recrimination.

After a while Byers came back from the bathroom, dressed again and looking more like his usual self. "Why don't you get cleaned up, you'll feel better." Mulder didn't react and Byers sat down beside him.

"C'mon Mulder, I want you to get cleaned up and dressed and out of here before Langly comes back."

Mulder flinched and caught his breath. Langly . . . "Jeez . . . John . . . you're not going to tell Langly about this?"

Byers shook his head. "I don't know . . . nothing like this has ever happened before. We usually tell each other everything. But this . . . no, I don't want to hurt him."

Mulder nodded fervently in agreement; his mind recoiled from what Scully's reaction might be. He squinted sideways at Byers, realising that whatever happened, they were linked from now on, in a shared pact to protect the people they loved. He stood up, sighing. "Yeah, you're right. And John . . . I guess we just pretend this never happened?"

The younger man flushed and looked away. "Mulder, if you or anyone else ever mentions this again, I'll deny all knowledge, okay?"

Mulder grinned in relief and slapped him on the shoulder, on the way past him to the bathroom.

He cleaned up quickly, anxious to be away from there before Langly or anyone else came back. When he came back into the office, Byers was still sitting on the couch. He looked up and gestured at the parcel on the table in front of him. "What do you want to do with this stuff?"

"Give it to me, I'll take it back to the office and get it incinerated, notes and all."

Byers nodded, got up and handed the parcel to him. "You mind you do that. It's too dangerous."

At the door Mulder paused, trying once again to articulate his thoughts. "John - "

Byers shrugged. "It's okay, Mulder. It happened, we've got to live with it, that's all we can do."

Byers held out his hand automatically and Mulder took it without thinking, and was unprepared for the electric tingle which shot through him. He gripped tighter and heard Byers' almost inaudible gasp. They stared at each other, transfixed. Mulder found his other hand coming up and resting on Byers' shoulder. The sensation was different now, not the nightmare uncontrollable imperative but a dreamy, languid relaxed feeling. Mulder leaned forward and kissed Byers gently on the lips, confident this time that he was in complete control of himself and yet still feeling there was no reason at all he should not do this. Byers kissed back, responsive, gentle and sensual, and it was a long time before they broke apart reluctantly, smiling slightly embarrassed at each other.

Byers gave him a gentle push. "Go on. Before we do something more that we'll regret."

Mulder took a deep breath. "Yeah, you're right. Bye, John" and in another minute he found himself outside the heavy steel reinforced door of the Gunmen's HQ, hearing the bolts being drawn across behind him. For the first time in his friendship with the Gunmen, he found himself almost wishing he belonged on the other side of that bolted door.

Back in the HQ Byers leaned on the other side of the door, catching his breath. It had taken all his willpower to push Mulder out and shut the door behind him. He wandered back into the office and down the corridor to the room he shared with Langly, and sat down on the big double bed.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tube. Smiling to himself he turned it over in his hands before pushing it into the back of the bedside drawer.

Ringo Langly wasn't going to know what hit him.



END