A fan fiction by KyoKohitsuji
Beta’d by HeavenlyBodies
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a bottle of pink lemonade, which I also make no profit on.
Summery: Mulder struggles internally after Krycek leaves him with that infamous kiss.
Warnings: Male/Male slash content. Very subtle mentions of past violence
A.N: Realising that pretty much all of my fic was erotic and full of sexual content this was my challenge; a short fic about love with no sex whatsoever. It was hard… pun entirely intended.
The lonely winds of change whipped at the windows, howling and screaming as they tore at Fox Mulder’s aching heart. The spark of fire on his cheek seared through to his very soul. His world was one of darkness and tonight he’d been blinded by the light of the truth he so valiantly sought in his every waking hour.
Trembling fingers reached up to his heated, tingling skin, tracing along his tensed cheekbone. He was positively vibrating with life, as unwelcome as it was.
The reason for his tortured mind this evening had been gone for several minutes now, and he could still smell the lingering scent he’d left on his collar. Alex Krycek. Russian assassin and double agent. A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma… He thought with a twisted sense of humour. Of course that was his relationship with Krycek; twisted.
Twisting, turning, wrenching thoughts battled in his head in a furious fight to the death. Why did this man always provoke such a violent reaction within him? The wind battered the windows as his conscious battered his tired body. He lay still slumped against the wall, fingers tracing his cheek then down to his lips in an imagined ghost of a touch he both yearned for and despised himself for longing to feel.
Why had he done it… Why did he have to turn everything upside down all over again? Mulder’s life was a labyrinth of lies and deceit, yet the one thing he could rely on in a fucked up way was Krycek. Just when he thought he had everything collected in his head and knew which direction he needed to travel, Krycek showed up and blew up his way, leading him down the narrow, dark path of his own creation.
His hatred for the man who betrayed him was seething below his boiling blood and in one swift move he had thrown doubt on even that which he knew to be true above all else. Was Krycek really on his side this whole time?
Mulder crumpled to the floor and began to sob. His choked off gulps for air broke the steely silence that surrounded him. His demons had found him once more and ridiculed his very being as they tore at his sanity. No… No, Krycek was a two faced lying bastard, he cared only for himself… And yet if that was true, why did he come to him again and again, just standing there taking everything Mulder threw at him? Violence was oxygen between these two great men.
That was one thing his mind could not deny no matter how hard he tried. Alex Krycek was a great man. He had survived through such horrors and still kept fighting. But fighting for what? The same things as Mulder, or his own selfish needs?
Mulder suddenly heaved his whole body up, crashing into the table as he stumbled to his feet. The darkening night in his cold apartment seemed to reflect his life as he chased after dead ends and found himself losing the hope and vigour for his quest he had once had. The only thing that awakens the passion within him these days is… No! He leaned into the cold unforgiving wall and slammed his head down into its unmoving path. Perhaps he could beat the thoughts consuming him away.
He’d beat so much out of Krycek over the years. His mind flashed with flying fists and blind fury. It writhed inside him like a serpent strangling its prey, coiling around him till there was nowhere to run, no escape. He saw a thousand looks of pure hatred and a thousand more accepting self-deprecation. Why did Krycek never hit back? The man was a trained assassin, Mulder was sure he could have pummelled him into the ground on many occasions.
A sweat beading on his brow and a dizziness within his bloodstream, pulse pumping in his ears like the base of hard music. He knew the truth, he always had. He was just too stubborn to admit it. To even allow his blind eyes a glimpse of what could be.
Why could he believe in such utterly impossible wonders and yet refuse to believe in a completely possible gift offered to him on a platter in his life? Why couldn’t he just accept an ally for what it was? Had he really been so perfect all these years? Could he really call himself innocent at this point?
The room began to spin in a vortex of utter confusion and Mulder’s body cried out for something solid to hold onto. Heavy feet carried him to the window which clumsy hands threw open. Suddenly he was engulfed by the night- wild and free just as he longed to be.
Golden leaves blew in the furious winds as though they were alive. Spinning and sweeping through the skies like birds of prey floating in the wind in wait for what they craved. A winding, spiralling leaf falls to the earth, lost to its brothers and sisters as the wind begins to die. It’s where it lands that creates a storm within the on looking FBI agent’s heart.
A dark inconspicuous car half backed into an alley. To anyone else a piece of street furniture that wouldn’t deserve a second look. To Mulder it was the very thing that made his heart race and his head pound all in the same movement of his dark melody. A figure sat in the driver’s seat, hooded with the ebony cloak of darkness offered by the night. He couldn’t make out more than a faint shape but he knew. Alex Krycek sat there awaiting his next move.
Why was he still here? Why hadn’t he scurried off back to his hole like the rat bastard he was? Somewhere inside Mulder broke and knew all too well, because he’s here for you, he’s always been here for you. The last lingering ghosts of doubt were clawing at his mind, but the sheer purity of the light of truth had awakened inside him and he was too far gone to go back now.
Again Mulder’s questioning fingertips traced his cheek where not so long ago Alex had kissed him and then walked out of his life. Though he hadn’t gone far, Mulder had a feeling he’d never been far. He pulled back into the safety of his own home, retreating from the night and all its dangers. ‘Safety of his own home’- that was a laugh. He’d be safer wandering the streets. Though, then again, he seemed to have a guardian angel lately. He was positive there had been several failed attempts on his life, and yet he didn’t know who had saved him. That was a downright lie his psyche shouted and it reverberated through his body with the bare faced truth.
The utterly confused FBI agent paced back and forth like a caged beast in his small apartment. He had kissed him… He finally allowed the words to swim around his mind in an attempt to accept them. And by god he couldn’t help himself turning into that soft kiss. What the hell was he expecting though, to ride off into the sunset with Alex Krycek? The thought was too absurd to even ponder on. Yet he had kissed him. It could just have been some Russian tradition, or perhaps a Judas kiss. It hadn’t felt like that though. He remembered the way those soft lips had lingered for just a moment against his skin.
His mind was in turmoil and it was killing him thinking of all the possibilities. That was it, he couldn’t take it anymore; he had to find out. His hands turned to fists as though readying themselves for a fight. He charged towards his door like a bull enraged by that flickering red set only to tease him. Even if that was what the kiss had been he had to find out. He almost pulled the door off its hinges as he bulldozed towards what, he wasn’t sure. He was stopped abruptly when he swung the door open.
There, standing in the hallway, drenched from the rain, head turned down to his shuffling feet stood Alex. Mulder would never admit it, but his heart soared at merely the sight of the younger man as it always did, but this time he didn’t mistake the feelings overwhelming him as hatred. Slowly those emerald eyes turned up to him flickering through a vale of long, thick lashes. One word passed the lips of the soaked young man in his doorway.
And that was it, all resolve faded to background noise. He flew forward and cringed at the way Alex flinched as though steeling himself for a beating. But no punches were thrown, instead he took him into his arms and held him there until the younger man’s shock ebbed away and he melted into the embrace. He blamed it on the rain, but Mulder knew those were tears that fell onto his shoulder.
“Alex,” he whispered into his wet hair as he held onto him for dear life. He had him now and he was damned if he was going to let him go. They stood there in a silent confession of all they felt and around them the night began to calm as though the storm had been caused by their own fighting, of everything they needed and had yet thrown away. No more, Mulder thought. He wouldn’t throw away another single moment of this man… Of the love they had denied all these years.
Fox reluctantly let go of the younger man noting the way Alex tried to hold on for just a few seconds longer. He took his face in his strong hands and locked their eyes for just a moment. So much was said in that single look that not a word was needed to be spoken between them. He took Alex’s hand in his entwining their fingers together and squeezing gently within his own fingers. Watching the way their hands fit so perfectly for the longest moment before he led him back into his apartment. Mulder brought Alex’s hand to his lips and kissed each of his bruised knuckles. Alex fell back into his arms and like this they stayed as Mulder closed the door to the world and basked in their love for one another.
This night would be the first of many spent entangled in each other, worshipping the other and loving unconditionally despite all they had been through. Alex Krycek and Fox Mulder would spend the rest of their lives living and loving for the other and no man would ever take this from them again.