A Taste of Life III - Nightmares and Dreams

Author: Jvantheterrible
Date: February 6th-10th, 2000
Rating: Hello.......NC-17 all the way.
Summary: Scully has been killed in the line of duty, and Skinner and Mulder
are left to try and piece themselves back together.
Disclaimer: The characters of the X-Files are the sole property of Chris
Carter, 1013/InFront Productions, and Fox TV. No copyright infringement is
intended, and no monies are changing hands due to the creation OR posting of
this story.
Feedback: Yes please, to Rllnslvr@aol.com. I don’t like flames; besides.....
if you don’t like it, why are you on part 3 already? Hmmmm????? :P

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"Mulder I’m sorry....don’t go....please," I murmur, and I feel a hand
stroking my scalp. That can’t be right, because Fox left just a moment ago.
He ran out of here and told me to leave him alone, and I’m sitting on my
floor crying....but there’s.....wait a minute; then I hear it.

"Sssshhhh, Walter, it’s alright, you just had a bad dream. I’m here, it’s
okay," the voice soothes. What the hell is going on? My eyes open and I look
up into Fox Mulder’s concerned face, his hazel eyes watching me intently. I’m
not sitting on my floor; I’m in my bed, and Mulder is here.

"Mulder," I whisper, and I reach up for his hand. He removes his hand from my
head and laces his fingers into mine.

"Yeah it’s me, I’m here. Are you alright, Walter? Jesus you scared me. You
were crying and I was getting worried; I couldn’t wake you up." I blink a few
times, completely disoriented but happier than anything to see Mulder
hovering over me. He didn’t leave. More importantly, I didn’t hurt him. No,
more importantly he’s still here. I can’t even smile at him, I just look up
at him and try to get lost in his eyes. I want to forget that damned dream,
and I feel further away from it already just watching Mulder.

"I’m glad that......Mulder, I mean, I’m happy that you’re...." I am so
embarassed about my feelings that I can’t even finish my sentence. I see that
smile return to his eyes, and I know he understands what I’m trying to say. I
just wish I had the balls to say it. He deserves that much, at least.

"I know, Walter. It’s alright. I wouldn’t leave you like that." He smiles
down at me and comes in closer for a kiss, which I gratefully accept and
return, despite my shock at waking up to his presence. I was so certain he
had left. More frightening still is my reaction to his supposed absence. I
have no claim on Fox Mulder; he can leave anytime he wants. I just hope he
doesn’t.

I wrap my arms around him and pull him down to me so that his head is resting
just beneath mine, his thin but sturdy frame covering mine completely. It
feels so good, this contact with him. It makes me feel alive, makes me feel
that I am still capable of........feeling. In fact, there’s something of mine
grazing his stomach right this minute, and it feels pretty damn well alive,
too.

"Walter," he says, his voice muffled against my chest, his arms wrapping
around my waist as best as he can reach, "are you always this way after
you’ve had a bad dream?" He laughs against my bare chest, his tongue sneaking
out to steal a lick at my nipple. I shudder at his action, and thrust my hips
up against his.

"Not to the best of my knowledge, Mulder," I reply, smiling. I’m smiling. Fox
Mulder is in my arms, thrusting his growing erection against mine, and I’m
smiling. Jesus Christ, this is so weird. But I love it. Oh my God. I love
him. There it is. And I thought I was scared at my dream. Since when is
reality more frightening than nightmares? Since ‘Spooky’ Mulder insinuated
himself into my life, that’s when. In the last forty-eight hours, we’ve gone
from not speaking at all to becoming lovers. Whoa. Talk about spooky. And
that’s really not being fair to him; he’s not spooky. Not at all, as far as
I’m concerned....and certain parts of my anatomy might agree.

"Uuuunnnnnhhhh, that feels good," he moans, and I thrust up against him
again, my flesh begging to be released from my sweats and allowed to make
contact with his. I hold him close, so close that I can feel his heartbeat
against my chest; it’s delicious. It’s life-affirming. I like it. I could
learn to love it. There’s that word again - the ‘L’ word.

He reaches down for the string to undo my sweats, and I move slightly to
allow him better access. Within seconds he has them down around my ankles,
and we’re thrusting our cocks together desperately. I can feel his flesh like
molten steel against my own, and I am already tamping down my urge to come.

I pull him close to me again so I can partake of his mouth; that pouty bottom
lip of his is just begging to be bitten, and I inadvertently draw blood in my
haste. I lick him where the tiny wound has opened, and he moans into my mouth
as I suck the life out of him, drawing him into me further and further; I
want to swallow him whole. He appears to understand as he allows me to suck
his lower lip into my mouth and nurse and lick at it.

"So good," I murmur to him, "You taste so fucking good, Fox, oh my God," and
I’m rendered speechless as our arms pull tighter against one another, our
bodies slapping together convulsively.

"Unnnhhh, Walter, yessss," is all he can manage back, and we continue the war
of our limbs until finally we’re as close as we can be without actually being
joined. I look up into his eyes, and he looks at me, and it’s completely
feral, wild. Something has to give here, because we are both walking on the
edge of ecstasy. For me, it’s been over twenty years. Not since I was in ‘Nam
have I let a man get this close to me. Somehow, the loss of Scully feels like
a war; a war that both Mulder and I were waging - and lost. In a way, though,
we won, because we have each other now. Right now, right this minute. So I
give in.

"Mulder," I gasp, "please. I want to feel you in me. NOW," I add for
emphasis, and I roll over and reach into the nightstand drawer. I’m hoping
it’s still there...it’s been ages since I’ve used it.....voila. My lube; used
for Sharon on the nights when she couldn’t quite keep up with me, and since
her death, on the nights when I needed an extra......hand.

"Walter, are you sure? I’m just not....I mean, I don’t -" I cut him off in
mid-sentence by reaching out for him and pulling him back to me, kissing him
passionately. Our tongues flick over and over one another, and we begin our
grinding actions once again.

"Oh god, Walter, give me a minute," he gasps, and I chuckle deep in my throat
as he twists the top off the tube and squeezes the gel out onto his hand. He
spreads a liberal amount over his index and middle fingers and just looks at
me. I know what I have to do, and I’m all too ready to comply. My legs go
easily over his shoulders, and he slides his fingers into my ass, gently at
first, and then more firmly as he pops through the initial tight ring of
muscle.

"Fffuck," I moan, thrusting against his fingers at the same time that my body
is asking me what the hell I am doing, muscles trying to tense up even as I
struggle to relax for him. I want to be open to him, completely and totally,
and within moments, I have achieved my goal. He is slowly pumping two fingers
in and out of me, and I am moaning his name softly, begging him for more. He
slides a third finger in, and I know I am not going to be any more ready than
I am at this moment. I want him. I need him. In me. Now.

"Nnnow, Fox, please," I beg him, and I force my eyes to open and look at him,
drinking in the sight of him as he prepares me for himself. He looks so
beautiful, his muscles all taut and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, worried
only about my comfort.

"Yesss," he gasps, and he uses his left hand to squirt more lube out and coat
himself thoroughly while he keeps his right hand’s fingers buried deep inside
of me. I watch him as he coats his cock, hurrying to get inside of me before
we both explode. He’s ready within seconds, and we gaze into each others’
eyes for a long moment before he places the head of his cock against my
entrance. I nod at him, signalling him that I’m ready, and he nods back as he
pushes gently forward and into me. I suck my breath in - exhilaration is the
only word that comes to mind. He slides fully into me and I close my eyes as
I feel him bury himself in me to his balls.

"Oh my God," he moans, "oh Christ Walter, so good," he groans as he withdraws
slightly and then proceeds to slide fully back into me. I can only agree with
him, nodding my head and whispering,"Yes," back to him as he moves inside of
me. I can feel every beat of his heart inside of me, and I want to sob with
the intensity of it. I can only moan his name over and over as he slides
slowly in and out of me, my muscles clutching at him with his every movement.

My legs are over his shoulders and his chest is pressing against mine, we are
so close at this moment. I open my eyes again and he’s above me, glistening,
beautiful, his expression radiating pure pleasure, and I realize that I’m the
reason he looks this way. And he’s the reason I’m feeling this way. I can’t
conceal my tears of joy as he thrusts into me harder now, past the point of
controlled movement. Our bodies are on autopilot, and there’s no turning
back. Our thrusts continue in tandem, and I pull him closer so I can kiss
him. He returns my sentiment, and our lips crush together as our bodies thrum
with heat and unbridled excitement.

"Oh, God, Walter, I can’t....I can’t stop....please, come......" he moans
into my mouth, and I feel him thrust into me fully one more time, brushing my
prostate, and then several tiny spasms as he spills into me. Almost as he
tells me to come, I’m there, and he’s managed to somehow grab my cock in his
hand, his fist giving me the sweet friction I need to shoot all over both of
us. I spurt up and over his hand, catching both of our chests as he fills me
from below. It’s perfectly synchronized, almost as though it’s been practiced
for ages, and we both attempt to catch our breath as our bodies continue to
spasm lightly against one another.

I am lost in him. I want nothing more and nothing less than this feeling, all
the time, from now on. Forever, if possible. Fox Mulder. Gifted, beautiful,
intelligent, top special agent.....he is a great partner....he always was to
Scully...but she’s...and now he’s....Kersh’s agent....oh fucking-A. What a
way to come back down to earth. He senses the change in my demeanor almost
instantly. Is it the fact that I can’t face him any longer because I just had
a slight mental meltdown?

"Walter," he gasps, still slightly out of breath, "What’s wrong," he’s
looking over at me now, since I’ve turned him over onto his back and sprawled
out on my stomach next to him so we can both catch some oxygen, "Are you
alright?" I suppose pulling the pillows over my head to escape his scrutiny
would be an exercise in futility at this point.

I turn my head away from his, facing the wall as if that will help me to come
up with a logical explanation for ignoring him after the scorching session
we’ve just had. "I’m fine, Mulder." Yeah, that was just sooooo convincing.
Perhaps that will ease his pyschologically trained mind. NOT.

"Walter, that’s the same thing Scully used to tell me all the time. ‘I’m
fine, Mulder’ this, ‘I’m fine, Mulder’ that. Do you know," he stops briefly,
and I can almost hear the emotion building inside of him. I close my eyes as
he continues his little trip down memory lane, my insides feeling like
they’re going to explode out of me at any moment, "She even told me that
after that bastard Donnie Pfaster kidnapped her. She looked up at me and
said, ‘I’m fine, Mulder. I’m fine.’ And then she broke down in my arms and
cried like a baby. She cried and she held onto me for dear life, and I’ve
never felt as needed by anyone as I did then. Until now."

Oh my God. Here we go. Is he expecting me to break down in front of him? I
feel that there’s been quite enough of that already; I can’t let myself be
weak in front of him. He needs me to be strong, doesn’t he? I mean, I AM
Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner of the F-B-fucking-I after all.......I
am the rock, am I not? No, not now. At the moment I want to take him into my
arms and cry against his soft black hair; I want to hold him until this all
just goes away. But I can’t. And I won’t. And I don’t. Instead, I do the only
thing I’ve ever done; I deny my feelings. I deny the truth, as he would so
eloquently put it.

"Fox, I really am fine." A weak and ineffectual comeback to his
heart-wrenching confession. I still can’t bring myself to look at him. I can
feel him staring at me; I can feel his hazel gaze burning into the back of my
neck, silently begging me to look at him if only for a moment, to validate
what he is saying - what he is pouring out to me. I don’t know if it’s my
guilt over Scully’s death or my foolish pride, but I refuse to look at him. I
can hear his breath catch, and I think he’s crying now - or very close to it.
Despite my undying urge to comfort him and myself, I refuse to give in. I
keep my back to him, and the mattress becomes lighter as he gets up from the
bed.

I hear his footsteps as he walks around the room to retrieve his borrowed
clothing; I hear him sniffle and try to contain his emotions as he dresses,
and I yearn to jump up and go to him. I want to hold him tightly to me and
tell him that everything is going to be alright. And I would, if I truly
believed that were possible. But I don’t. Not anymore, and I can’t bear to
lie to him that way. He deserves the truth for once. A real truth, not just
some souped up version of it, doctored and conformed to his beliefs for his
own benefit by people that could give a shit less about him. Goddamn the
Consortium for making him nothing more than a pawn, and goddamn me for
helping them, even if it is my neck at stake. I don’t suppose having my life
held in their hands is an admirable excuse, but it’s the only one I’ve got.
Jesus Fox, don’t go. Don’t leave me. That is what I want to shout, to yell at
him as I hear him preparing to go. Please don’t go. None of those things come
out. I lie in my bed and listen to the sound of the only person that I give a
good goddamn about, getting ready to walk out on me, and suddenly I can’t
take it anymore.

"Fox." One word is all it takes to stop him where he stands. He has his back
to me and I quickly climb out of bed and go to him, grabbing his shoulders
and turning him around to look at me. I keep my hands on his shoulders in
case he tries to bolt, but he’s just looking at me with tears streaming down
his face, that same broken look he wore the day we buried Scully. Christ
almighty. I swallow hard, hearing a clicking in my throat; that would be the
lump I’m trying desperately to push back down so I can attempt something
closely resembling speech. Amazing that he’s still standing here after just
‘Fox’, but here he is. Talk, Walter, talk. You do it all day at work; you’ve
managed just fine for 48 years, so let’s go, big man. That’s a funny thought
because right now I feel about an inch tall after how I’ve made Mulder feel.
I have to fix this. Now.

"I.....Mulder, I’m sorry. I’m not....ready to talk about....this yet but....I
didn’t mean to....to hurt you. I apologize," I nearly choke it out, and I
close my eyes momentarily, wondering why I am unable to discuss anything with
this man without clenching my jaw so tightly it feels like my teeth will
crack. When I open my eyes, Mulder is still staring at me. He’s not crying
anymore, though, and his mouth is open slightly; that pouty lower lip is just
begging to be kissed....Jesus CHRIST when did I turn into this insatiable
monster for Fox Mulder of all people? I can just see the 302 form for
that.....’Agent Mulder requests permission to investigate a large, horny
beast residing in a townhome in Crystal City.’ Good God; he’s getting to me
in more ways than one.

My hands are still gripping his shoulders and he reaches up and pulls them
away. I’m not sure if he’s going to turn around and run or haul off and punch
me or.......he wraps his arms around my waist and holds me close to him. I
didn’t even know that was an option or I would’ve chosen it first. I’m
surprised as hell, and I don’t even return his embrace for a moment as I try
to take it all in. Finally, when I’m reasonably sure that it’s alright for me
to do so, I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his hair. He smells
like.....musk and.......sweat.....and sex......and Mulder. And he’s still
here.

Several moments later, he pulls away from me a little, just enough so he can
see my face. "Walter, I’d ask you if that’s your gun in your pocket, but
you’re not wearing any clothes," he says with a completely straight face. I
feel the corners of my mouth twitch, and before I know it, I’m grinning like
an idiot. It feels good to smile; it’s been many many days since I’ve had one
of those on my face. Maybe Mulder can put a few more there, too. Only time
will tell. For now, I’m content to hold him and smile. For now.

End Part III - Nightmares and Dreams