Author: Jvantheterrible
Date: March 21st – 22nd, 2000
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Scully’s been killed in the line of duty, and Skinner and Mulder are
left to try to piece themselves together.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Chris Carter and Co. The story is mine,
all mine.
Author’s Notes: Well, I’m glad that those of you who HAVE read this story are
liking it enough to request more. I will keep obliging as long as you keep
reading. This particular piece is dedicated to R. Haynes - YOU go.
Feedback: Welcome to Rllnslvr@aol.com OR Jvantheterrible@yahoo.com
Check out our (amokeh’s and my) website at: www.angelfire.com/oh3/SkinnerSanctum
**********************************************
I wake up before him, like I usually do. He’s still sleeping soundly, despite
the troubling events of last night. I can’t believe I came so close to losing
him. If I hadn’t tailed him all evening....Goddammit, I shudder to think
about it. I’ve been propped up on my left elbow watching him slumber for a
good half an hour now and I’m still not tired of looking at his face. How he
can look so peaceful, I’ll never know; the hell inside of him just seems to
dissipate when he’s asleep. My poor, poor Fox.
I didn’t want to threaten to put him away again, but I had to drive my point
home somehow. He’s reached the end of the road as far as I’m concerned, and
it’s time he talked to someone about it. All of it. Scully, me, and whatever
else is locked up inside that beautiful head of his. He stirs slightly,
mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like my name, and turns away from
me, pulling the covers with him. I should get up anyway; he’s paranoid enough
as it is - he doesn’t need to wake up to my intense staring.
I get out of bed and head for the bathroom, careful not to wake Mulder as I
ease myself up off the mattress. The hot water feels like a blessing, washing
away most of the tension of the past 24 hours. I stretch under the steady
spray, closing my eyes as I allow the moisture to wash over my bald head and
over my face and the rest of me. Heaven is a hot shower, the kind with just
enough of a bite to almost be too much, but not quite scalding. I soap up and
rinse, and as I shut the water off, I hear music wafting in from the bedroom.
Fox is up, and he’s walking into the bathroom as I get out of the tub. He
hands me a towel and smiles at me lazily, scratching his balls as he watches
me dry off.
"Good morning," he says softly, and I smile at him as I return his gaze.
"Yes it is, Fox. It’s a very good morning," I tell him, "Because you’re
here." He blushes a little at that, and I shake my head and toss my towel on
the edge of the sink. I walk past him, ignoring his flirtatious grab at my
ass, and go into the bedroom to get dressed. He brushes his teeth and gets
into the shower while I pull on some sweats and an FBI t-shirt.
"I’m going to go downstairs and make us breakfast," I holler to him, and I
hear a muffled ‘okay’ in response. Eggs and bacon should suffice, I think as
I pad down the stairs and into the kitchen. Oh, yeah, and coffee. Must have
caffeine to start the day properly. Especially this day; today is the day
that Fox and I are going to talk about things. EVERYthing, in fact. Judging
from his condition last night, I’m not so sure that he’ll remember that’s
first on the agenda for today, but he’ll be reminded soon enough. I start the
coffee and wait for him to come down so I can start the eggs. Ten minutes
later, he saunters into the kitchen, and I begin cooking.
He walks over when the coffee’s done and places a chaste kiss on my cheek; I
nuzzle my face against his lips, and I can see him grin as he walks to the
counter to get us both a mug. I’d like to take him in my arms and kiss him
properly, but this isn’t really the time; I’m not really excited about the
prospect of a major heart to heart with him, but I have no choice - and
neither does he. Best to leave the romance until after we’ve both had our
say. I wonder if he’ll be in the mood then. Somehow, I doubt it.
"How do you want your eggs," I ask him, looking over my shoulder at him to
watch him pour us coffee.
"Mmm, I think over-easy will do me just fine. Thanks," he says, handing me my
mug, sipping from his own as he does so.
"Over-easy. Just like you," I quip with a straight face, and he smacks me on
the ass as he heads for the kitchen table, shaking his head the whole way.
"Ha ha, Walter." There’s a long pause after he sits, and then he takes a deep
breath, letting it out very slowly. I know he’s getting ready to do some
heavy talking, and before I even finish that thought, he’s started. "Thank
you. For last night, I mean."
"I knew what you meant, Mulder," I tell him, concentrating just a little too
hard on the food. I’m not sure I’m ready for this, but if he wants to start,
far be it from me to stop him.
"I, um, had a bit too much to drink," he says, then pauses. He must want me
to say something to make him feel better, then shrug it all off because of
the alcohol. He can forget that idea right now, because it goes one hell of a
lot deeper than too much tequila.
I nod at him, and he takes that as a sign to continue, watching me closely as
I flip our eggs and turn the bacon. "Walter, why were you following me last
night?"
I look at him then, and he flinches a bit at the grimace that has taken
residence on my face. My turn, I suppose. "Mulder, after our conversation
yesterday, and then your note last night......I just felt really uneasy about
you going out alone. You haven’t left the house in weeks, and you were so
damned vague about what your plans were.....I was worried. That’s all. It
just didn’t feel right." I go to the cupboard to get plates, and he starts in
again once my back is turned.
"Walter, I don’t need a keeper," he says quietly, and I can feel the muscles
throughout my body tighten at his comment. I walk back to the stove with the
plates and set them down a little harder than I should. I really would like
to eat before this discussion gets heated, but I think it’s already too late.
"I understand that, Mulder. I haven’t made any attempt to be a keeper of any
kind. I was concerned. Period." The food is done, but Mulder’s not. I fix our
plates as he goes on, struggling not to go surly on his ass.
"Well, in the future, you might just let me have my evening out. I mean, I am
a grown-up, you know." He is seriously trying my patience now. Does he
honestly think that he was acting like an adult last night? Does he even
fucking remember that he was going to splatter his brains all over Scully’s
headstone?
"Mulder, can we please just eat our breakfast?" I ask him as I set his plate
down in front of him.
"I really wish you understood, Walter," he says, and I freeze where I stand,
my plate still in my hand. I don’t think I’m going to make it to my side of
the table with my appetite intact.
"You wish I understood, Fox? That’s rich. Good one," I tell him, and my
sarcasm has finally battled its way up to my vocal chords. "You’re ready to
blow your head all over Scully’s grave, and you wish I understood." I slam my
plate down on the counter next to the sink. I never made it to my chair, and
even if I had, I wouldn’t have wanted to eat anyway. Goddamn him. This is
bullshit; two months ago, my life was fine, perfectly boring and unfulfilling
in every way. Now, every moment holds nothing but turmoil - and passion. I
hate this complicated bullshit; yeah, as if I didn’t know what I was getting
into when he and I started all of this. Shit.
He gets up from his chair and walks over to where I’m standing, my lower back
against the counter, arms across my chest. He sets his untouched plate next
to mine and assumes his own defiant stance, no more than one foot away from
me. "I wasn’t going to -" he starts, but I cut him off right there.
"Yes, you damn well were going to. I saw you, Mulder. I saw you get on your
knees and tell her that you wanted to be with her if it ever happened. I
heard what you said, and I watched you as you said it." How ignorant does he
think I am?
"Goddammit, Skinner," he shouts in my face, "Get off my fucking back." He’s
fuming now, and so am I. All I wanted to do was make us breakfast and have a
civilized discussion, but he’s ruined that, too.
"I’m not on your back, Mulder. You’re carrying quite enough there already.
Don’t you think I realize that?" I ask him, my jaw clenching as I finish. I’m
trying to be compassionate, understanding; he wants a battle. We’re reverting
to our work identities instead of treating this as what it actually is - a
personal crisis - and he’s forcing me to take control, as usual. I am so sick
of having to be the boss, especially where WE are concerned.
"All I realize is that you followed me last night. You didn’t trust me,
Walter. I need your trust. I need your understanding."
"You need to go talk to someone about what’s going on in your head, Fox. I
can’t help you with that," I tell him softly, and I see the rage in his eyes
as I finish. I can’t win here, and I might as well get it all out in the open
as long as we’re being honest.
"Goddamn you," he sneers, dropping his arms to his sides in what appears
momentarily to be defeat, "Is that what this is all about? You want to send
me off to a shrink?"
"Don’t play stupid with me, Mulder. No, that’s not what all of this is about.
This is about you. And me. And how you’re not dealing with Scully’s death
very well. And how I found you last night, with a fucking gun to your head.
That’s what this is about." He’s playing dense, but I can see in his eyes
that he knows very well what I’m getting at. He can’t escape the truth of
this situation. The truth is that he needs help, and he’s not dealing with
that realization very well. In fact, he’s denying it.
"I was drunk. That’s all. I wasn’t going to do it. I was....I was...upset.
Nothing more. I wouldn’t have done it. And what does any of this have to do
with you and me?" He asks, as if he doesn’t know. Fine, if he needs it
spelled out for him, I will gladly do him that courtesy, at the very least.
"Everything, Mulder," I say, exasperated, "It has everything to do with us
because you’re using me as an excuse not to deal with what you really feel.
You’re using our relationship as an excuse not to grieve. I can’t fill that
void, Fox. Don’t you understand that? We can fuck all you want to, and that’s
all well and good, but it won’t change anything. In the morning, when all is
said and done and we’re both physically sated, the fact remains that Scully
is dead. She’s not coming back, Mulder. You will still be emotionally empty.
I can’t fix that, as much as I wish I could....I can’t. And until you deal
with that....with those feelings you’re trying so hard to push away....you
won’t truly appreciate anything that comes from you and I being together. And
neither will I," I finish, my voice breaking a bit, pissed that I can’t keep
my steely resolve, but I gave up all hope of hiding my emotions from him six
weeks ago. Too bad he’s still trying to keep the charade going. I believe it
ends right here, right this minute.
"Is that what you think I’ve been doing, you son of a bitch," he sneers,
"Using you for sex? What if it’s....what if you’re using ME," he yells
weakly, his voice fading as he stops, tears in his eyes, his shoulders
slumped. I know he doesn’t mean it, but it still hurts. Way more than it
should.
"Jesus, Mulder. You just don’t get it. You’re fucking brilliant at everything
you do, but this is completely fucking lost on you, isn’t it?" I tell him,
taking the two steps towards him to stand toe-to-toe with him. "I care about
you, you ass. I.....I love you. I just want everything to be alright. Don’t
you get that? Why can’t you understand that the only reason I want you to go
talk to someone is so you can work through all this? I’m not using you; I
could never do that to you, Fox. I just want you. The real you." I open my
arms to him and he hesitates. For a split second I don’t think he’s going to
give in, but then he practically flies into my arms and wraps his arms around
me, holding me tight. He sobs into my shirt, begging me to forgive him, and I
just close my eyes and rest my cheek against his hair, returning his firm
embrace.
"Sssshhh, Fox, it’s alright, just let it out, baby. I’m here for you, as much
as I can be," I whisper to him, and he nods his head against me, the force of
his grief too overwhelming to allow him to speak.
"I don’t want...to...luh-luh-lose you, Wuh-Walter," he cries into my chest,
"I’ve luh-lost so muh-much already." I fight the huge lump in my throat
that’s threatening to choke me and tell him that it’s alright, that I’m not
going anywhere, that I’ll always be here for him. And I mean it.
*************************************************
We went back to bed after our attempt at breakfast, both of us too exhausted
to continue with much of anything. We slept for a few more hours, not getting
up again until mid-afternoon. I wake up with the strangest
feeling......something warm......licking and stroking me....I open my eyes,
lift the covers, and look down; he’s under the damn sheets with my cock in
his beautiful pouty mouth.
"Mulder," I gasp as I drop the bedclothes, my hands searching for his hair,
finding it, then running through it wildly, pulling him closer to my body,
"Jesus, Fox." I can feel him smile around my growing erection, and I give in
to the sensation he’s creating. I thrust slowly and gently into his welcoming
mouth, the heat and moisture overwhelming in my half-asleep state, fully
erect for him within minutes.
He swallows me as far as he can, nearly to my balls, and I groan as he
increases the intensity of his ministrations. He draws me in totally and then
releases me to the very tip of my head, tickling me with the end of his
tongue. I moan his name over and over, and he continues with a sense of
urgency, licking and sucking me from root to shaft to tip, lapping up the
drops of pre-cum like some sort of thirsting animal. He stops suddenly,
sensing my impending release, and crawls up the front of my body on all
fours. "I want you in me," he whispers, and I nod and point to the
nightstand. He retrieves the lube and slathers himself with it, coating me
liberally as well. I scoot over and allow him to arrange himself with pillows
underneath his hips. He’s facing me, and I know he wants to look into my eyes
as we join. I want that too, but I’m afraid of what I’ll see there when the
moment of truth finally comes - total acceptance, or more denial? Those
thoughts are quickly driven away as he places his legs over my shoulders and
I grasp my erection, testing him out tentatively with a couple of fingers;
he’s more than ready, and so am I. I press my cock into his ass, pushing
slowly into his rectum, breaching the tight ring of muscle firmly, yet as
carefully as I can.
He gasps and closes his eyes as I enter him fully, pressing into him until I
can go no further. Once I’m buried in him to the hilt, his eyes flutter open
and he smiles wanly up at me, fighting the initial pain even as the pleasure
starts to sink in. I pull back a little and graze his prostate as I push back
in, causing him to moan and thrust up against me, burying me that much deeper.
"God," I whisper, "You feel so fucking good Fox, oh my God," I groan, and he
smiles up at me as he coaxes me with his body to go deeper still, go further,
take him fully. I do that and more, answering his body’s pleas with my own,
finding my own slow grinding rhythm, making sure that I hit him where it
counts on each stroke back in. He pants beneath me, reaching up for me, and I
take him in my arms as best as I can, pulling him closer to me. I reach down
between us and wrap my hand around his erection, pumping him in time to my
thrusts into his body and against his prostate.
"Unnnhhhhh, yeah, s’good," he murmurs, and I tighten my grip a little and
pump him faster, driving into him harder with each thrust. The sweat is
dripping off of my brow and landing on his chest, but he doesn’t care, nor do
I; our sole mission now is to come together, and we’re quite close to our
goal.
"Ffffoxxxxssss," I gasp, and he merely smiles up at me, urging me on with his
hips and his hands, which are now grasping my hips and pulling me to him as
hard as they can. His tongue flicks out and rolls along his top lip
seductively, causing me to lose my concentration momentarily; the hand
sliding up and down his cock stops, and my body is on autopilot as it thrusts
into and out of him with reckless abandon. His whisper brings me out of my
stupor.
"Walter, I want you to come," he rasps, "Come for me baby, please, I want to
see you come for me, I want to feel you...." his voice fades away as I
struggle to comply, my cock ready to burst from the friction of being in his
tight yet welcoming orifice.
"Sshhhhhit, Mulder, I want you to......puh-leeezzzzz," I moan, on the verge
of exploding. I can feel his balls tighten as I murmur to him, so I coax him
some more, all the while thrusting into him fully, withdrawing nearly all the
way, then driving back into him.
"Yesss...harder, please.......fuck me, oh God, yeah......harder,
baby......fuck me," he moans. I am seeing stars already, and all I can think
to do is release his cock for a moment, spit in my hand, and resume pumping
him. It does the trick, and I can feel him bucking up against me as I thrust
and stroke him, both of us no longer in conscious control of our bodies.
"OhmygodWalteryesyesyesssssss...." he murmurs, and that’s all I need. I buck
into him two more times and spurt deeply into his body, grunting like some
sort of wild animal as I do, his name unintelligible to even my own ears. I
shudder repeatedly in my orgasm as he answers with his own, semen spurting up
onto my chest and dripping back down to pool on his. We both remain
motionless as our bodies relieve us of so much tension and stress, finishing
out their own dances until we finally regain our senses, muscles and
breathing returning to normal function after several moments.
I pull out of him and move to lie down beside him, but he stops me and pulls
me down so I lie on top of him, chest to chest, our legs entwined as our arms
close around one another. "I don’t want to crush you," I tell him, and he
snorts and pulls me closer, replying, "As if, Walt. I love you so much. I
mean it," he says, pushing me up enough so I look into his eyes. Wide hazel
depths assure me that he does indeed mean it, and I find myself choked up
once again, unable to do much more than nod and bury my face in his neck.
"I love you too, Fox." My heart is ready to burst with what I’m feeling for
him right now. It takes all of my strength to push away from him and roll
over so we’re side by side. We both lever up so we’re resting on our elbows,
our free hands and fingers meeting and intertwining. We gaze at one another
silently for a long moment, and then he breaks the silence.
"I want to go talk to Karen Cosseff on Monday. Do you think she can fit me
in?"
"Yes, Fox, I’m sure she can. I already spoke to her - briefly - about it, and
she said when you’re ready, so is she." Please don’t let him hate me for
mentioning anything, please......
"Okay," he sighs, releasing my hand and falling onto his back forcefully,
"I’ll go, Walter. For you."
I look at him and make sure he meets my gaze, which he does moments later,
and correct him. "No, Fox. Not for me. For you."
"Alright. For me.......AND for us," he finishes, and he leans towards me for
a kiss, which I all too gratefully give him. Once we’ve finished reaming each
other orally, we decide to shower and order out for dinner. He said ‘for us’.
My heart feels lighter than it has at any other time in my life. I decide to
go with that for now; it’s more than I had hoped for. I just hope he means it.
**********************************************
The rest of the weekend passed without incident, and we didn’t really discuss
his plans to visit Dr. Cosseff. I’m sitting behind my massive desk this
Monday morning, going crazy wondering whether or not he’s going to keep his
appointment. I check my watch for about the millionth time; he should be
about halfway through his session, if he kept his word. It took all of my
willpower to not get up and pass by her office, or check with her secretary
to see if he was in there; I have to try to trust him and take him at his
word. This is a big step he’s taking, and with any luck, he’ll feel a bit
better after he dumps some of the emotional baggage he’s been hauling around
with him.
My cellphone trills about twenty minutes later as I’m staring at the same
file that’s been on my desk for an hour, and I still haven’t read a damn
thing. "Skinner," I growl, not even letting the phone ring one full time
before I snatch it up and hit ‘answer’.
"Hi, it’s me," Mulder says, and he sounds exhausted.
"How did it go," I ask him, eagerly awaiting his reply.
"Suffice it to say that we need to talk, Walter," he says with great dramatic
effect, his voice falling to a near whisper as he says my name.
"I see. Is this part of your treatment?" I’m curious as to what she’s
instructed him to do to lessen his frustration over Scully’s death, his job,
and any other number of things that he has locked up inside of the walls of
his soul.
"Um, sir, I’m on my way to your office right now. I’ll be there in a few
moments. We can talk then." He hangs up before I can even tell him that I’m
tied up, which of course I’m not; I just don’t want him to think that I’m on
pins and needles waiting to hear about his first session, even if I damn well
am.
Kimberly buzzes me to announce Fox’s arrival, and I tell her to send him in.
I stand up and take my glasses off, facing him with no barriers as he walks
through my door. I can see that he’s been crying again, although I’m not
really surprised. He locks the door behind him and ambles over to where I’m
waiting for him, holding his arms out to me. I take him in my arms and he
sobs into my shoulder. I don’t say anything, just wait for him to gather his
bearings so we can talk. Several minutes later he slowly pulls away from me
as though it hurts him to do so, and he motions for me to sit in my chair as
he takes his usual position across from me. I try to convey my concern in my
gaze, but he’s oblivious to anything that I’m attempting to do to comfort
him.
"Walt......sir," Mulder begins, sniffling freely,"Dr. Cosseff has suggested
that I continue on with my leave of absence." He stops, and I can see him
shaking slightly as he prepares to continue, which he does after he swallows
a few more times.
"She....told me that based on the loss that I’ve suffered....that I will need
to come back and see her twice a week for at least a few months." He looks
down at his hands, and doesn’t meet my eyes as I respond.
"That’s a good thing, Mulder, right? I mean, you really do need to talk to
someone, and it’ll do you good to set a schedule. It’ll get you out of the
house regularly a couple times a week, and then before you know it you’ll be
back at work. And you’ll have me," I finish quietly, but he only shakes his
head and tears begin to roll down his cheeks again. His shoulders slump and
he brings his hands up to cover his face.
"Fox, what IS it," I ask him, exasperated at his behavior these last ten
minutes, "Please, tell me what else happened."
"I couldn’t tell her about......about us. I just told her that I’d met someone
and was sort of involved, and she told me that it might be easier for me and
for my new love interest if I.....if I.....concentrate on myself for awhile,"
he finishes, clasping his hands together and letting them drop into his lap,
finally looking directly at me.
"That’s to be expected, Mulder. You’ve been through a very traumatic time,
and -" he cuts me off before I can complete my thought.
"She said that I should be alone, Walter. That I should deal with my demons
on my own; that I’m not ready for a relationship so soon after losing someone
as close to me as Scully. She....she wants me to be alone so I can understand
that I can’t rely on anyone except myself, that there isn’t anyone to take
care of me but me." His look now is the epitome of forlorn, and I want
nothing more than to take him in my arms again and soothe him, but I’m frozen
to my chair. Karen told him to be alone? Is she fucking insane? Christ, if I
hadn’t been there Friday night to stop him, he wouldn’t be here today...and
she wants him to recuperate by himself? Left to his own devices, he wouldn’t
last ten fucking minutes...can’t she see that?
"Mulder, I’ll go talk to her right now...this is crazy. That’s the worst
fucking advice I’ve ever heard," I fume, unable to sit in my chair any
longer. I get up and walk to where he’s sitting, and he stands up when I
reach him. I take his face gently in my hands and look straight into his
eyes. "Did you tell her about what happened Friday night?" I ask him, and he
tries to look away from me, but I hold his face firmly in place.
"No," he says, "I didn’t tell her about that. I was afraid to....I didn’t
want to tell her that you are the new love interest, Walter. I don’t want to
get you in trouble...I don’t want to cause you any more problems. I told her
that I agreed with her diagnosis. I promised her that I’d try flying solo for
awhile, try to get used to being alone. No......no partner of any kind," he
sobs, sitting back down as I stand there next to him, unable and unwilling to
comprehend what is happening here.
"Mulder, I...." I don’t even fucking know what to say now. I’m at as much of
a loss as Fox at this point.
"I’ll go to your place right now and get my things. It’s better to do this
now, don’t you think?" He asks me as he stands again, still shaking visibly.
"I mean, doctors do know best, don’t they? I don’t want you to have to deal
with this anymore, Walter. I need to get my shit together. I don’t want
to.....to drag you down, you know?"
I used to think that doctors knew best...now I just think they’re full of
crap. I can’t believe this is happening. "Mulder, wait," I tell him, grabbing
his arm as he heads for my door, "Jesus Christ Fox, this isn’t right. You
know it as well as I do. Can’t you just tell her that you’ll take the time
off and keep your appointments, but you don’t feel......comfortable being
alone right now? ANYTHING, Mulder. Tell her anything....but don’t agree to
being alone." I’m practically begging him to stay with me; what the hell is
THAT all about, anyway? So THIS is what I get for forcing him into therapy?
Fuck this.
"I have to go now, Walter. I’ll leave your key under the mat outside your
front door......I’ll talk to you soon, I promise," he says weakly, and I am
speechless as he unlocks my door and leaves. I hear him say goodbye to
Kimberly, and I suddenly feel as though I’ve been punched in the gut, my
breath coming out in gasps, my mind racing with the implications of this.
He’s going to be all alone with his demons - and so am I.
***********************************************
I stay at work as long as I can stand it, my eyes burning from staring at all
the goddamn paperwork when I finally decide that I can’t put it off any
longer; I have to go home. Home to my empty condo, void of all Fox
memorabilia. Void of HIM. Goddamn Karen Cosseff. I wonder if she knew it was
me that Mulder was involved with if it would make a difference. She’d
probably just tell him to run that much farther away.
I get home and retrieve Fox’s key from under the mat, resting exactly where
he’d promised it would be. I feel numb as I enter my empty living quarters;
funny, it felt so good to come home to Mulder. It’s been years since I had
anyone to come home to, and I was just getting used to the idea that I
wouldn’t have any more lonely nights to endure.......Karen Cosseff five (at
least), FBI illicit lovers zero. Had I known that this would be her
suggestion, I would never have pushed Mulder into it. I sigh as I realize
that yes, I would have, it was for his own good. It IS for his own good. God
I miss him.
I loosen my tie as I head for the bar and pour myself a scotch. Tonight is a
full glass night, no ice, and I swill half of it before I even stop to take a
breath. The burn is nice; it reminds me that I can feel something, even if it
is only a panacea, not coming remotely close to replacing the heat that Fox
and I have generated within these walls the last few weeks. I set my
half-empty glass down and head upstairs to change.
The alarm clock tells me that it’s 11:00 pm, and I glare at it angrily as I
pull off my FBI garb. Just one more reminder that I’m home alone, no one to
curl up next to for a couple of hours until sleep comes to claim me. I wonder
if I’ll sleep at all tonight; somehow, I doubt it. I’ve pulled all-nighters
before, and I’ll do it again. It’s better than getting into my huge cold bed
by myself. Just last night Fox was there, waiting for me with a devilish grin
on his face, wrapping himself around me when I joined him. His hands on my
body, so warm and inviting, begging me to return his touch........I shake
those thoughts away as I jog back downstairs to finish my drink.
I grab the bottle and my glass and sit on the couch, only able to visualize
my first time with Mulder as I lean back into the embrace of the white
leather. I can practically feel him laying over me and kissing me, my neck,
my cheek, finally reaching my lips, his tongue pushing through to war with
mine......GODDAMMIT, Walter, stop this shit. You’re losing it, man. This IS
what you wanted, is it not? You wanted him to get help; you wanted to help
him heal....you just didn’t realize that perhaps the best thing for him was
to not be with you. You selfish son of a bitch, I say to myself, finishing
off my drink and pouring myself another. I turn the tv on and mute it, and
before too much longer, I’m passed out on my sofa, dreaming of Fox Mulder,
wishing that I’d had the balls to just take him on all by myself. We were
doing alright, weren’t we? I drift off as I imagine him curled up next to me,
his arms around me, mine around him, both of us happy to just be alive -
together.
************************************************
Who the hell is hammering at this time of the night, I wonder as I come back
to consciousness and find myself sacked out on my couch. I check my watch
instinctively - 3 a.m. - what the hell? I sit for a moment in the dark,
listening for my unruly neighbor, and suddenly I hear it again. It’s not
hammering; someone is knocking at my door. I get up and move towards the
door, cursing as my shin connects with the corner of my coffee table. I don’t
have my glasses on, but I can make out a shadowy figure just on the other
side of my door.....I hear my first name being whispered loudly, and decide
to throw caution to the wind. I unlock the door and pull it open, and there
he is. Fox Mulder, in jeans and a henley, pale as can be. His eyes have huge
dark circles under them; it’s not even been 24 hours since we were together,
but he looks as though he’s coming apart at the seams. I’ve never been so
happy to see anyone in my entire life.
I step back and motion for him to come in, which he does, his eyes not
leaving me as he passes me and stands behind me, waiting for me to close the
door. I can feel the heat of his stare without even seeing it, and my cock is
twitching already. I can’t believe how much I miss him already.
"I couldn’t sleep, Walter," he tells me matter-of-factly while I re-lock the
entrance to my no longer lonely domicile, "I....I need you."
I pause for a long moment, and I can practically hear his heart thumping in
his chest; he’s waiting to see if I’m going to turn him away. I could no more
turn him away than deny myself air to breathe.
"Mulder, it’s late," I grumble at him, and I can hear his breath catch in his
throat as he wonders if I’m going to tell him to go home.
"I’m.....I’m sorry.....I’ll go. I didn’t mean to wake you, it’s just
that....I can’t bother the Gunmen one more time or they’re going to have me
assassinated. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat....I can’t think of anything except
you." I can see him shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a
guilty little kid, and I fight the grin that is trying to spread across my
face. I feign a deep sigh, and he stops fidgeting and tenses up, waiting for
my verdict.
"One of us has to work in the morning, Mulder," I tell him gruffly, "And if I
don’t get some sleep soon, it’s going to have to be you. What do you think
Karen Cosseff would have to say to that?" I ask him.
"With all due respect, sir, I don’t give a rat’s ass what she would say," he
replies with his typical level of defiance, "I can’t sleep." He glances over
my shoulder and sees the bottle and the empty glass on the coffee table,
illuminated by the television behind them, then raises an eyebrow as he looks
back to me. "I see you’re having some trouble passing out as well....adopting
some of my bad habits, are you?"
"Mulder, you don’t drink that much," I tell him, and he grins at me and
replies, "Walter, you don’t watch television that much."
"Touche," I tell him as I pull him close and kiss him thoroughly, overjoyed
at the feeling of his arms locking around my middle. We stand like that for
several long minutes, necking like teenagers in puppy love at the end of a
date. Finally, we release one another, and he says, "Touche indeed, Walter."
I grab the remote and turn the tv off as Mulder drops his jacket on my living
room floor, pretty much on top of where I left my trenchcoat resting hours
ago. I take his hand in mine and pull him up the stairs behind me, looking
forward to climbing into bed once again.
"Hey, what about Karen Cosseff and my treatment plan?" He asks, just a little
sarcasm tainting his tone.
I don’t answer him right away........we both strip and get under the covers.
He lays with his back against my chest and I spoon around him, careful to
make sure that every inch of me is touching every inch of him somewhere.
Finally, I’m ready to offer him a reply.
"I say that first thing tomorrow," I stop briefly so I can kiss the back of
his head, "We get a second opinion."