Elliptical Orbits

Title: Elliptical Orbits
Author: Flutesong
Email: Flutesong@hegalplace.com
Website: www.hegalplace.com/flutesong
Category: M/K Emotional Hurt/Comfort RST
Spoilers: After RatB
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: XF owned by Fox
Notes: Thanks to Kashmir for the beta
Jan 2004

Everything was sort of fuzzy and dense. The hum of the air
conditioner hiccupped once in while and at first, he thought it was
someone trying to get in the door. Spread-eagle in old gym shorts on
the king sized bed, Alex felt as if he were adrift on a warm ocean. He
was stoned, knew it was dangerous to be in this state, but was too
loaded to hold on to the thought. The wound to his thigh wasn’t life
threatening, but it hurt like hell. So, until the stitches had time to stop
throbbing, Alex made it to the nearest hotel, checked in, undressed and
thankfully swallowed the painkillers.

He stretched, careful not to extend his right leg and ran his hand down
his chest and belly, vaguely wondering if he should go through the
effort of getting under the covers - decided it was too much of a bother
- and scratched the irritating pressure line where the waistband of his
shorts dug into him. He attempted to untie the knot and loosen the
waistline, but that proved too much for his drug-numbed fingers and so
he lifted his ass and took the damn things off.

Naked, he rubbed at the indentation lines a few more times and fell
asleep. Attuned to the hiccupping air conditioner, he did not come
awake when the door quietly opened and Mulder entered his room.

Mulder, gun out and hyper alert for an attack by the room’s occupant,
was surprised to find a naked, sleeping Krycek sprawled on the bed
and oblivious to his entry. He surveyed the man, noted the angry,
newly stitched wound on Krycek’s right leg and pill bottle on the
nightstand. Well, well, Mulder thought to himself, what do we have
here? He moved closer and took a long look at the bare body of his
nemesis.

Mulder noticed Krycek’s gun had slid halfway out from beneath his
pillow. He holstered his own weapon and stealthily reached and
removed it. He slid it under the bed, not taking the chance that ejecting
the clip would make enough noise to wake the sleeping man.

He studied Krycek’s face, his strong neck, smooth chest and shoulders.
The truncated left arm was a rude exclamation mark compared to the
rest of the beautiful form. Mulder shrugged his own left shoulder and
gazed at the tapered line of dark hair that ran from his bellybutton to
spread out luxuriously around his sleep-softened sex and curl around
his balls only to thin out into fuzz on his outer thighs.

Krycek moaned softly in his sleep and wriggled slightly. Mulder
watched, as Krycek’s cock grew fractionally tumescent and realized
either Krycek was having an erotic dream or experiencing the natural
ebb and flow of periodic sleep erections.

He knew Krycek was bi, he said so once when they’d been forced to
share a room on one of the few investigations they’d worked on
together. Mulder had said he wasn’t and that had ended the
conversation and, he had to admit, any discernable interest from
Krycek. Nevertheless, deep in his secret fantasies, his libido had
indeed been interested, if unwilling, to explore this possibility with the
younger and not wholly trustworthy agent.

Now knowing what Krycek was and hating him for it, conversely,
made his interest burn hotter. He’d wanted Krycek at his mercy and
although he hadn’t imagined this particular scenario, as he stood and
stared at the undeniably tempting figure on the bed, he began to
contemplate exactly what getting Krycek into that position consisted
of.

Mulder looked around the room. He had only one set of cuffs on him
and it would take more than that to secure Krycek to the bed. He
quietly dug around in the suitcase Krycek had dropped near the foot of
the bed. Other than a few changes of clothes, some toiletries and,
surprisingly, a copy of Smithsonian Magazine, the bag contained little
of interest or help.

Mulder looked around the rest of the room and then went into the
bathroom. He fingered the towels, but they were too thick for what he
had in mind. He returned to the bedroom, made sure Krycek was still
out, and searched his jacket. When he found the knife secured in a
side-seam, he knew he had what he needed. He took a towel and, as
quietly as possible, sliced it into four strips.

Keeping his gun handy, he secured the doped and sleeping man’s right
foot to the bottom rail of the bed and then did the same with the left.
Mulder breathed a sigh of relief when he cuffed Krycek’s right arm to
the headboard without difficulty.

Mulder took a step back from the bed and surveyed the sleeping man
once more. Now that he had him at his mercy, he was unsure what to
do with his power. He wasn’t a rapist and rather thought that forcing
himself on Krycek was not the way to go. Both because it was the kind
of violence that made him as low as Krycek and because he wasn’t
quite sure he could actually rape the man, although the thought of
making Krycek take it in the ass was very alluring. He wondered if
Krycek would beg him to stop, offer him information or try to make
some kind of a deal. The idea of a weeping Alex Krycek, pleading
with him and babbling secrets was intensely satisfying and fit into his
fantasies perfectly.

Mulder sighed soundlessly, he doubted Krycek would weep, beg or
make deals. He was much more likely to bite him or manage to knee
him in the balls or something. Krycek groaned and tried to stretch his
wounded leg. Mulder decided to improvise, he was sure Krycek would
wake as soon as he became uncomfortable and he had no real idea
what to do. If Krycek had information, it was in his head and not in the
room. Mulder pulled up the lone chair and sat near the bed on
Krycek’s left side. He hoped Krycek would be very disturbed by the
state he found himself in and be amenable once he awoke. He trained
his gun on the sleeping man and waited.

Alex wet his lips, his mouth was very dry because of the meds and he
started to wake up, needing a drink. He tried to stretch his leg and
found it hampered. At first, he thought it was because of the stitches,
but soon became aware of his ankles tied to the bed. His heart started
to pound and he tried to move his other leg and then his arm. Fuck!
Fuck! He was drugged, naked and bound. He wondered who had him
this time and slowly opened his eyes.

He saw Mulder calmly aiming his gun right at his head and closed his
eyes again. How in the hell had Mulder found him? He was in Dallas,
for Pete’s sake! Mulder was waiting silently, Alex thought this was a
bad sign; usually Mulder went right for beating, threats and
accusations. That he had managed to break in, tie him up and wait
patiently for him to wake told Alex that Mulder felt very securely in
charge. Moreover, Alex knew Mulder liked being in charge very
much, since it happened so seldom. He thought as quickly as his
sluggish brain allowed and decided to play it by ear. He opened his
eyes.

They stared at one another.

Alex licked his lips again, he really needed a drink, but was damned if
he was going to start the negotiations by asking for anything.

Mulder realized Krycek’s lips were chapped and dry. He probably
needed a drink real bad after sleeping with a slew of drugs in his
system. He probably needed to urinate too. Mulder felt a surge of
renewed power over the man. Denying a person his basic necessities
was one of the best places to start a siege. Mulder’s conscience
whispered ‘torture’, but he shrugged it away.

Mulder spoke first, “Krycek,” he said shortly and slowly allowed his
eyes to drift over the naked man. He noted Krycek made an aborted
gesture to raise his leg and hide his groin. Mulder smiled coldly,
“Have a nice nap?”

Shit! Shit! Shit! Alex thought. Mulder is in rare form today. He wanted
a drink, wished he had his shorts on and realized this was the first time
Mulder would know he lost his arm. Alex steeled himself. Despite
everything, Mulder had followed his lead and gone to Weikamp. That
had to count for something. Mulder would have lots of questions.
Everything had gone to hell and Mulder would only have bits and
pieces of the whole picture.

Of course, Alex realized, he only had pieces of the picture himself.
Spender and Diana had survived the barbeque, young Spender and
Marita had made it out of the hospital, with his reluctant help. The
alien fetus and Cassandra Spender were back in rebel hands and that
changed the game.

With the fetus and Cassandra gone, there wasn't any advantage for the
human resistance to use to prevent more of the mass burnings by the
rebels. Basically, the rebels were as much of a threat now as the
colonizers were. Earth and humankind remained targets. The rebels
would continue cleaning up any vestige of the Purity Project, and
while that meant death to thousands instead of colonization of
millions, it was still an unsatisfactory possibility. Alex knew that if the
rebels didn’t win the war against the colonizers, they would have no
compunction about annihilating the entire planet. If the colonizers
won, well that meant without the fetus and the Purity experiments,
they would simply use humans as incubators and to hell with the
slower, neater process of inoculation. Alex wished, fervently, he knew
if the Brit and Strughold had survived. If they had, it was possible they
had an ace or two up their sleeves.

He sighed. He knew Mulder meant to humiliate him by making a point
of his vulnerability. It was petty, but he was still human enough to feel
the sting of it. He didn’t really believe Mulder would torture him to
death, but then again, it was a long way between being naked and
thirsty and all the things Mulder could do and yet not actually kill him.

Mulder watched Krycek think. He clenched his hand around the gun
and wished he were strangling Krycek. His earlier carnal thoughts
renewed themselves. He felt them strongly and became aroused. He
was suddenly and uncomfortably aware that he was hard. The
temptation to crush Krycek’s naked body with his own, to feel all that
warm skin next to his, and bite the reddened mouth was almost
overwhelming. He took several harsh shallow breaths and tried to calm
down.

Krycek opened his eyes again and worried that Mulder’s heightened
color and rapid breaths meant he was feeding his anger and that he
would launch a physical attack. “What do you want, Mulder?” Alex
kept his voice soft and even, hoping to calm the other man and get him
talking.

Mulder, surprised that Krycek spoke, opened his eyes wide and
couldn’t resist a long sweeping gaze over Krycek’s body once more.

Alex wondered what Mulder planned to do since he was studying his
body so thoroughly. In another time, place and situation, Alex thought
that kind of a look could mean he was attracted. But, Mulder couldn’t
possibly mean anything like that. Mulder was as straight as they come,
as well as hating the very air that Alex breathed. It wasn’t within the
realm of possibility that Mulder was having sexual thoughts and much
more likely that Mulder was trying to determine which way to hurt
him first.

When Mulder put his gun on the floor and reached out towards his
groin, Alex felt nothing but fear and braced himself for something
painful.

Mulder felt the compulsion to touch Krycek and slowly laid his gun
out of reach beneath his chair. He intended to grab Krycek’s stump
and say something cutting, but his hand, seemingly of its own accord,
reached toward Krycek’s sex instead.

When Alex felt Mulder’s fingers tentatively grasp his penis, he cringed
further away. He really, really hadn’t thought Mulder capable of
inflicting this kind of pain. He believed Mulder to be much more up
front and direct about hurting him. Break a rib or two with a hard right
or break his nose, were the kind of thing he expected. Alex prayed, for
the first time in ages. He prayed now when he hadn’t prayed for rescue
in the silo or for a surgeon to reattach his arm. He felt his throat choke
and his heart stutter. God, he beseeched, please don’t let Mulder hurt
me this way. Not Mulder, God, don’t let him do an act he cannot live
with afterwards. Alex thought of all the things Mulder had lived
through and still kept on fighting, hoping, and believing he was just.
He knew that if Mulder went down this path, he would never be clean
again. Alex realized that somewhere in the very depths of himself, he
wanted Mulder to keep on fighting the good fight. He wanted Mulder
to win against impossible odds.

Alex twisted away as far as he could, “Please, Mulder!” He cried out
in a rough pleading voice, “Don’t do this!”

Mulder paused; his bemused concentration with the texture of
Krycek’s very soft and wilted penis between his fingers, broken by the
hoarse cry. He let go of Krycek’s sex and looked at the man’s face.
Krycek was pale with bright slashes of red on his cheeks. His eyes
were wide and terrified. Mulder met Krycek’s eyes and Krycek turned
his head away and said, “Don’t,” very softly in a broken voice.

Power, thought Mulder, was indeed a truly corrupting influence. With
one small and painless gesture, he had reduced Krycek to a state that
he had not thought possible. He looked at Krycek’s body and saw he
was breathing in gasps, the muscles in his abdomen and thighs were
taut and rigid with strain. Was Krycek truly afraid Mulder was going
rip his cock off, or worse? He’d begged Mulder to stop and not do this.
What ‘this’ did he mean exactly?

Mulder tried to frame the right thing to say. He wanted Krycek to tell
him all the things he knew and Mulder didn’t know. Something was
decidedly off kilter though. Krycek was a liar, a coward, a killer and a
spy, but this kind of abject defeat just wasn’t right.

“You afraid of me, Krycek?” Mulder asked, keeping his voice soft and
quietly intense.

Ales swallowed. If he said yes, Mulder might be inspired t humiliate
him more. If he said no, Mulder would certainly need to prove himself
fear worthy. The truth then, Alex decided, whether Mulder would
believe it. “If you humiliate me, Mulder, I won’t be the only one to
suffer.”

“You think so?” Mulder asked viciously. “You think there is anything
I can do to you that will give me a moment’s unease? After everything
you’ve done?”

Alex turned and faced Mulder, “Yes, I think there is.” He said quietly.

Mulder felt the power shift. He was losing ground and needed to back
up and rethink what he was doing. Having Krycek occupy the moral
high ground was unacceptable. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you
would go to try and weasel out of your position.” Mulder said.

Alex thought hard and the fog cleared from his brain. “You thought I
would get turned on? Offer my ass as a bargaining chip?” He asked
incredulously. He saw Mulder’s face redden. “Christ! I never thought
you were crazy. But, if you think being taken hostage and bound
makes for fun and games in bed, you are nuts. What is it, Mulder? The
world coming to an end isn’t enough for you to get off on anymore? ”

“Shut up!” Mulder yelled and reached for his gun.

Alex shut up, wondering what the fuck Mulder really had in mind.

Mulder clenched his gun and looked at it and his white knuckled hand
for a long time. He heard Krycek taking measured breaths, that more
than anything told him the man was scared and trying desperately not
to show it.

“What do you want, Mulder?” Alex asked resignedly.

Mulder put the gun back under the chair, got up, moved to the bed, and
sat down on it. Krycek’s body slid slightly as Mulder’s weight settled.
He placed his hand on Krycek’s chest. He felt Krycek flinch and the
heartbeat under his hand speed up. “Is Samantha alive?”

“I don’t know. The aliens promised the original abductees would be
returned when colonization began. I don’t know if the recent barbeque
of a good portion of the conspirators changes that or not.” Alex
answered.

Mulder nodded and lightly stroked small circles on Krycek’s chest.
“What did I see at Weikamp?”

Alex tried to concentrate on Mulder’s questions and ignore the light
touches. He didn’t know if Mulder meant to caress him or was setting
him up for something painful if he didn’t get an answer he believed. “I
think you saw the rebels manage to save the life of their leader.”

“Both sides use the shape of the bounty hunter, only the rebels seal
their orifices?” Mulder widened the area he was touching and
skimmed his hand over Krycek’s belly. Lying flat, Mulder could feel
the muscles beneath the softness. Krycek’s skin was warm and
smooth, almost hairless.

“Yes,” Alex answered and sucked in his stomach. Mulder’s fingers
outlined his navel and stroked the line of hair that led to his groin.
Alex felt very uncomfortable. He thought again, that in almost any
other situation, he might believe the person touching him meant to
arouse him. Since this was Mulder, Alex didn’t believe he was
interested in anything but his humiliation.

“The rebels have possession of the fetus and torched Cassandra
Spender. Marita Covarrubius survived some sort of test with the black
oil and she and Jeffrey Spender have gone to ground?” Mulder clasped
Alex’s stump, and although he shied away as far as he could go,
Mulder held on.

Panting with distress and alarm, Alex began to see the game. Mulder
touched him, knowing the intimacy without pain was more
frightening, in its reserve, than torture. Nonetheless, he was asking
questions and demanding answers and Alex felt compelled to answer.
He found he was afraid of Mulder and the unknown threat inherent in
the calm, concentrated attention. “Yes,” Alex ground out, trying to get
under control. “Her survival means that the serum works. It kills the
black oil. Resistance to occupation is possible. The conspirators are in
disarray and split. Most of them want to continue the alliance. Spender
and the Brit are on opposite sides now that resistance is possible.”

“Ah,” Mulder murmured and massaged the short trunk. He could feel
the abrupt end of bone and the hard mass of tissue at the end. Krycek’s
underarm and shoulder were muscular and he wondered how the man
managed to exercise and keep it from atrophying. In fact, his entire
chest was more developed. Mulder had the compulsion to feel all of it
pressed close to him. His fingers dug into the stump and he literally
felt Krycek cry out, although he made no sound at all. “So, Jeffrey
Spender was supposed to follow in Daddy’s footsteps? I rather thought
the Brit was grooming you for that position?”

Alex lost track of the questions. He hated what Mulder was doing,
hated having his arm held while he couldn’t resist. “What do you want
from me?” He cried out, abandoning all attempts to stay cool.

Mulder held on to the stump and watched Krycek sweat. He looked
just like Mulder had always imagined in his revenge fantasies. This
was the real man - no more attitude, mockery or slyness. Using one
hand, Mulder reached in his pocket and withdrew the knife. He flipped
open the blade and Krycek whitened and went still.

Mulder let go of Krycek’s left arm and held the knife in front of his
eyes. “I’ve got you now,” he said evenly. “All bets are off; it’s just you
and me. Isn’t that right, Alex?” He spoke scathingly, using Krycek’s
first name to increase the personal meaning of his actions.

Alex nodded. He took a deep breath and began to allow his mind to
distance him from the fear. He knew how to do this almost effortlessly.
He’d learned it young and it served him well. If he could go far
enough, no matter what Mulder did to him, he would be safe until it
was over. This was his place, no one, no matter how hard they’d tried
to break him, abase or hurt him, had ever been able to intrude. It was
green in his place, a lush paradise of soft warm grass and sunlight. His
heartbeat became the throbbing surf and the salty copper dread in his
mouth, the taste of the sea. His sweat was droplets of ocean foam and
the flashing blade merely reflected sunlight on the sea. He expanded
the scenario and heard the squawking of gulls instead of Mulder’s
harsh, contemptuous demands. He felt himself begin to drift and was
glad.

Mulder saw Krycek’s eyelids flutter and close. Saw him lick his lips
and make a shuddering, soundless sigh. He thought Krycek might have
passed out; he was breathing steadily, his right hand slowly unclenched,
and his neck and torso relaxed. The small smile, however, told a
different story. Krycek hadn’t passed out, he’d taken himself away
instead.

Mulder watched Krycek relax and slip further away. He realized this
was a classic response to overwhelming fear and pain stimuli. He’d
seen it before, when he worked with abused children and kidnapping
victims. Mulder felt himself soften. The pinnacle of dominant
supremacy he’d attained weaken as he considered what Krycek was
doing. Whatever he’d imagined Krycek’s response might be, he’d
never considered this.

Mulder closed the knife and put it beneath his chair with his gun. He
was sweating, so he took off his shirt and untucked his tee shirt. He
rose and refilled the water glass. He drank the whole glass and filled it
again. He brought it back to the bed and dribbled some into Krycek’s
mouth. The man choked and sputtered, but didn’t come back. He
licked his lips and turned his head, although his eyes remained closed,
Mulder knew he was looking at something in his dream state.

He’d thought about Krycek a lot during the past three years. He’d
come to the conclusion that Krycek was evil. Until now, nothing had
mitigated this opinion. Seeing Krycek take this way out made Mulder
rethink his previous summation. His instincts, as well as his training,
told him that Krycek had retreated to a place so old and held so dear,
that it must be the remnant of childhood trauma. And, Mulder
thought, if anyone was familiar with that kind of suffering, he was.

Mulder sighed, untied Krycek and rubbed his wrist and ankles. Freed,
the man first stretched, and without regaining consciousness, curled up
on his left side and seemed to slowly fall into a normal sleep. Mulder
took the guns, cuffs, and the knife, wrapped them in his shirt and put
the bundle into the bottom drawer of the bureau. He was very tired and
incredibly saddened. There really were no simple answers. The puzzle
that was Krycek remained as opaque as ever and the inexplicable
connection they shared, just as complex.

He tugged at the sheet and blanket and covered the nude, sleeping
man, kicked off his shoes and joined Krycek on the bed. He placed a
hand on Krycek’s back, hoping that if he fell asleep, he would feel the
other move and awaken. Mulder drifted off wondering what scenario
Krycek concocted for his safe place.

Alex woke. He was warm and for a moment, he didn’t remember the
events leading up to his nap. Hearing a gentle snore at his back, he
froze, and remembered. He tried to make sense of what was happening
now. He was unbound, covered and seemed to have undergone no new
physical trauma. Mulder seemed to be asleep right next to him on the
bed. Alex tried to ‘feel’ if he had said or done anything to make these
changes occur, but recalled nothing. He clenched his ass and took a
deep breath to determine if somehow Mulder had done anything to
him sexually, but smelled no scent of semen and felt no residual
soreness from penetration.

He tried to make sense of his freedom and Mulder’s sense of safety
and ease. Carefully, he turned to face Mulder. He felt Mulder’s hand
slip off his back. The other man opened his eyes. For the first time in
three years, Alex wanted to kiss Mulder. The occasional fuck fantasies
notwithstanding, he hadn’t felt this gentler, sweeter need for Mulder in
a long, long time. Alex licked his dry lips and Mulder sighed. Very
hesitantly, Alex reached out and touched Mulder’s mouth. Mulder’s
lips trembled beneath his fingertips.

“Mulder,” Alex whispered brokenly, “Mulder?” He withdrew his hand
and waited.

“Who are you Alex Krycek?” Mulder whispered back, but he didn’t
wait for an answer, just shifted slightly and kissed him gently.

Alex felt Mulder’s lips on his and thought his heart actually twisted in
his chest. Tenuously, he kissed Mulder in return.

Neither man spoke again.

Mulder pressed his lips more firmly and Alex opened his mouth. The
first slide of warm, wet tongue and he was on the verge of orgasm. He
buried his hand in Mulder’s hair and the kiss deepened. They were
both gasping when they broke the kiss.

Mulder turned and faced Alex and wrapped his arm around his waist.

They both moved in for another kiss.

Alex ran his hand down Mulder back and up again under his tee shirt.
Mulder’s skin was hot and smooth. Alex groaned and Mulder quickly
divested himself of the shirt. Chest to chest they moved against one
another. Alex felt Mulder’s sharp intake of breath and knew Mulder
was as aroused as him.

Mulder pushed the sheet down and this time, when he ran his hands
down Krycek’s torso, the body strained towards and not away from
him. He refused to hesitate. He’d waited for this for so very long and
had refused to acknowledge the need. Why this man, only this man,
inspired Mulder to the pinnacles of desire and the depths of hatred,
was inexplicable to him. But, god, he did.

Mulder touched Krycek from neck to pelvis. Krycek drew him firmly
into another open mouthed, desperate kiss. He reached for and finally
took Krycek’s penis in hand. He felt Krycek jerk hard and moan deep
in his throat, without removing his mouth from the long, long kiss.
Mulder could hardly believe what he was doing. The firm shaft in his
hand made him dizzy and he felt his universe shift as the hot ejaculate
burst between his fingers and onto his belly. And, still Krycek kissed
him, kissed him as if ceasing the molten union of their mouths meant
exile back to a place so terrifyingly alone that only death could be
worse.

Alex came at the very first touch of Mulder’s hand on his cock. It was
the least important of all the things he was experiencing. That Mulder
was near him, with him, holding, caressing, and kissing him, far
outweighed an insignificant orgasm. This was more than he’d dared to
imagine. He kissed Mulder unceasingly, attempting to impress the
very essence of his desire, dreams and hopes on him before the
moment ended. He had no idea how this had come about or what had
turned in Mulder’s mind to make him want this, but Alex knew this
might be the only time and the only moment he would ever have.

Eventually they had to catch their breaths.

Alex, panting heavily, pushed Mulder down on the bed, turned on his
side and pressed his face into Mulder’s neck. He used his hand to
scrape lightly down Mulder chest and unbuckled his pants. He felt
Mulder’s hands fumble with the zipper and impatiently help get the
damn things off. He was making soft, needful sounds and Alex obliged
him immediately. He quickly caressed Mulder’s sex, pushed at his
thigh until he gave in and parted his legs, and then Alex moved
between them. He kissed Mulder’s neck, chest, and belly. Mulder
arched perfectly into Alex’s mouth. Alex thought he heard Mulder cry
out a curse or a prayer, it didn’t matter which, because he was deaf and
dumb to everything but the desperate thrust of Mulder’s cock in his
throat.

Yes, Alex thought, I knew he would taste this way. Yes! Take
everything I offer. He sucked sloppily, mouth wide and welcoming.
He wrapped his hand around the hard length and forced a fast, furious
rhythm. Mulder’s hands grasped his head and he slung his leg over
Alex’s shoulder. Alex bore the weight and took Mulder all the way
into his throat.

Mulder came with a scream, his heart beating so hard he thought he
might actually stroke out. Krycek gently allowed him to get his breath
back and remained silent, resting his head against Mulder’s belly.
Satiated and calm, he tugged on Krycek’s hand and brought him up
alongside him. He kissed Krycek and petted his chest and shoulders.
Krycek hung on and they rocked together.

“We just had sex,” Mulder, stated the obvious and felt Krycek nod into
his shoulder. “It’s crazy.” Krycek nodded again. Mulder tightened his
arms and whispered hoarsely, “I hate you.”

“I know,” Alex said, just as softly and held on just as tightly.

“I want you. I don’t understand it, but I do.” Mulder kissed Alex’s
neck and cheek.

Alex wanted to reassure Mulder, but he didn’t have the facility to
explain himself, let alone have it make sense. He’d been alone a long,
long time and intimacy of this kind was unknown to him. It wasn’t
about the sex, although he knew Mulder rarely indulged at all and
never with men. “We’re like satellites,” he said at last, hoping Mulder
would understand despite the obscure reference.

“Our orbits preordained by gravity?” Mulder replied.

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Yeah,” Mulder answered and made himself more comfortable on the
bed.

“Rest,” Alex said, got up and used the bathroom, brought back a warm
washcloth. Mulder rubbed the semen off his belly. Alex took the cloth
and tossed it back towards the bathroom, drank a glass of water,
stretched out his aching leg, and rejoined Mulder in bed.

Mulder fell asleep and Alex watched him. He wanted to recall
something poetic or romantic to mark the occasion in his mind. Mulder
snored softly and Alex laughed to himself. Fuck romance, he thought
as Mulder shifted closer to him. He turned onto his left side and
somehow they fit, cock-to-cock and chest-to-chest, legs entwined.

He circled Mulder’s waist with his arm and quietly matched the
rhythm of Mulder’s sleeping breaths. He felt a piercing sense of
rightness, decided this was as good as life gets, certainly more than
he’d imagined his could be, and closed his eyes.

End