Wall
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
X-Files
Fox Mulder/John Doggett
Rating: adult
After "Vienen", Doggett wants some answers from Mulder, but gets something else.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox.
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
This is for Alexandra, who wanted these two slashed, and since she's my wonderful friend, of course I did what she wanted. She did one of her patented fast and happy betas as well.
*****
Mulder opened the door and nodded. "Agent Doggett."
"Agent Mulder. May I come in?"
Wasn't like Doggett wasn't going to anyway. "Sure." Mulder stepped back from the door. "Need some help figuring out the filing system? No, you and Scully already got that, right?"
"Mulder, you can't leave the FBI."
Mulder kept his grin to himself. How many times had he said that to Scully? To himself? And now he was getting the same thing from Doggett, the man who'd replaced him. "Hey, it's time to do something else. Don't know what yet, but I'll find something. You think I'd make a good paperboy? Never did get a route when I was a kid."
"You always make it a joke." Quiet voice, but a hardness that Mulder respected now. Hadn't before, had thought this guy was a hardass with no brain, but he'd been wrong.
"Life's a joke, Agent Doggett. Sometimes we even get the punchline."
Next he was slammed up against the wall. Nice touch. Doggett's angular face up against his, breath hot on his skin. Coffee, lots of it. The fuel of the FBI. Some kind of aftershave, not too much. Warm body, hard body.
"Life is not a joke." Hard eyes staring into his. "Scully's life is not a joke. Her baby is not a joke. No one's life is a joke."
Mulder felt himself get hard. A long time since anyone had done this to him. He did this to Krycek, not the other way around, but this felt good. "Sorry, you're right. Life's not a joke."
But Doggett didn't let him go. "You think you can just give up like that?"
"I ran into a wall."
"You tear down walls, you climb over them, you tunnel under them. You don't let them stop you."
"I've done my share of that." Doggett wasn't letting him go, and Mulder wondered why. Not that it was a problem. "You do it now. You've got the credibility, you've got Kersh's ear."
"You said all that, Mulder, and I don't buy it. You're giving up."
"I'm tired, Doggett."
"We're all tired, Mulder."
Mulder wet his lips and stared at Doggett. "You don't feel that tired." Doggett's hard-on was pressing against his leg now, and Doggett was staring at him. "You come over to talk me into coming back to the FBI or into bed?"
Doggett held still. "The FBI," he said after a long moment.
"Bed would be easier." Mulder knew he was taking a chance, but he didn't really care. It hadn't been easy making the decision to leave the X-Files and the FBI, but he had. Some sex to help him forget about everything might be just what he needed. "Come on, Doggett. Live a little." He ground into Doggett's hard-on and saw Doggett's eye glaze over. "I'm good. Let me show you."
Doggett still didn't say anything, and Mulder decided that he was going to have to keep leading the other man. Not a problem.
"Let me show you," he murmured, and this time Doggett nodded and stepped back.
Mulder slipped out and headed to the windows, pulling down the blinds. He couldn't look at the window where he'd so many times put up an X with tape. That was over. Deep Throat was dead, as was his successor; even Cancerman was dead. And he was not an FBI agent. He turned away. Doggett, the future of the X-Files, was here, and Doggett was going to help him forget for a while. He needed to forget.
"Sit down." His voice had gone low and husky, and he saw Doggett blink and take that in before he got over to the couch. Mulder knelt down in front of him. "The first thing," he murmured, "is to relax, John." He saw a shiver run through Doggett's body at the use of his first name. Did Scully call him John? Probably. Didn't matter now.
"Relax," Doggett repeated.
"Yeah. You can do that." Mulder's fingers crept up and undid Doggett's belt as gently as he could, then eased down his zipper. He hoped his fingers weren't cold. He should have rubbed them against his pants to be sure. Then he had Doggett's cock in those fingers, and he didn't care any more.
He leaned forward and put out his tongue, just touching the head with the tip, hearing Doggett's gasp with pleasure. //That's right, John, I'm really going to do this.// A few swirls around the head, and Doggett was trembling. Mulder took pity on him and took the shaft into his mouth in one quick motion. Back and forth, back and forth on it, and even here somehow the taste of coffee. Did Doggett live on it too? Were they more similar than Mulder had ever thought? Maybe so. He drowned himself and his thoughts in the warm, firm flesh that filled his mouth and his mind, shifting as his own erection throbbed. No way Doggett was going to reciprocate, but that didn't matter. He'd take care of that himself.
Mulder had drawn back and was licking the head again when he felt Doggett's hips thrust and took him back in. Then Doggett was coming, a short low groan his only noise. Control. Not surprising.
He reached down and freed his own cock, one, two, three hard strokes to get himself off, swallowing the whole time.
It took a few minutes, but finally Doggett spoke.
"You won't even try." Doggett's voice was a whisper.
Mulder smiled. "It's that wall, John. If you can get it down, great. But it's there for a reason."
"Don't you care about the reason?"
"Guess I didn't do that good a job," Mulder said lightly. Of course he cared, but that was for later, not now.
Doggett did up his pants and belt, then stood. "I care. And I'm going to find out." He stared at Mulder, who was still kneeling on the floor. "You care, too. You just don't want anyone to know that."
He turned and left, and Mulder closed his eyes. Doggett wasn't going to give up. But then wasn't that what he wanted? Yes. Let John Doggett find the truth. He pulled himself up to the couch. Let him find it.
He could still smell Doggett there, and it was enough to lull him into a restless sleep.
The End
Posted 5/18/01
