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Arousal 4: Reflection

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Arousal 4: Reflection

Arousal 4: Reflection

by Alison

     Date: Friday, October 25, 2002 5:14 PM
     Okay, here it is ... the next part in the "Arousal" series. 
     Sorry it's taken so long and that it's little more than a
     vignette.  More soon I hope!  

     Arousal 4: Reflection
     by Alison
     Feedback: Yes please!
     Web Page:
     Category: Slash, Mulder/Byers 
     Status:   Fourth in a linked series of stories following
     "Arousal", "Compulsion" and "Seduction."
     Disclaimer: Not mine, etc
     Archive:   Lone Slasher, Basement, WWOMB, Gossamer,
     Summary:  An interlude, during which the main players in
     this game work out their next moves.
     Note:  brief plot summary so you don't have to go back to
     the beginning:  Byers and Langly had a fight just before
     Langly's departure on vacation.  Mulder took advantage of
     Byers' vulnerability to seduce him, with the aid of some
     aphrodisiac lube (of which more later).  Now what's gonna
     happen now that Langly has found out?


"You'd better make up your mind what it is you want ..."

Langly stared numbly at the dead telephone as if he'd never seen one before, Frohike's words fizzing in his brain. He felt nauseous, and afraid, and his legs didn't seem to belong to him.

"you must have noticed the way Mulder looks at him ..."

He stumbled down the corridor and out into the cool night air, taking deep breaths to try and clear his head. Out into the parking lot of the beachside bar, away from the bright lights and the headache-inducing music. Down to the beach, sand scrunching under his feet and the sound of the waves, salt sea breeze and stars overhead. Quiet and cool, no distractions, time to think. Time to remember.

//God, why didn't I notice it before? John and Mulder.

It's obvious when you think about it. The way he talks to us; talks to John like an equal and treats Mel and me like a pair of dorks. It's always John he listens to: John's opinion that matters. It's obvious he thinks of John differently from us. I mean, the two of them have a lot in common. And not just the suits. They're so similar. They're everything I'm not.

The times he's been to HQ, asking us to find stuff for him. I can see him now. Sitting there, talking to John. Doesn't take his eyes off him. We all work to find the stuff for him, but somehow it's always John he talks to. Like they talk the same language.

It's obvious, John's gonna find more in common with Mulder than me. Let's be honest, I'm totally out of his league. And who would want me when he can have Mulder?

Damn Mulder - can't he keep his hands off John? He's a good looking guy, he could have anyone he wanted. Why does he have to take John away from me?

I know how he'll do it. He'll play on Johnny's good nature. Get him feeling sorry for him. Johnny's so soft hearted, he'll do anything to make a friend feel better. I can see it now. Mulder will wait till they've had a few beers, he'll tell Johnny all his troubles, tell him he's the only one who understands ... end up sobbing on Johnny's shoulder, and then ...

I can see it. Oh God ... my Johnny ... in Mulder's arms. On that fucking couch. Mulder on him. In him. Kissing him - will Johnny kiss him the way he kisses me? Spread himself for Mulder, the way he does for me? When Mulder fucks him, will he moan and wrap himself round Mulder the way he does for me when I make him come? Oh god, the sight of Johnny when he comes ... when he comes for me, the way his whole body spasms and he clenches round me and screams ...

And afterwards, when we lie together. Arms round each other, it's the best feeling in the world. Total belonging. Talking softly or just listening to each other's breathing.

Will he lie like that with Mulder?

Screw you, Mulder, he's mine!

If he's had my Johnny, I'll kill him. I gotta get back there now ... I wanna bust into his bedroom and pull him off Johnny and smash his face in!

Oh god, this is my fault. If I hadn't left him like this ... he was right, I shouldn't have come. If I hadn't said those things to him ... how could I have said those things to him? The way he looked at me, the hurt in his eyes ... I didn't mean it, Johnny!//

He was brought back to his senses by the shock of cold water round his feet, and realised he was standing ankle deep in water. Cold water, cold breeze on the back of his neck and the cold pure moonlight in his eyes, the rising full moon shining in his eyes and making a dazzling track across the water.

//I gotta get home ... I gotta get home now!//

He turned round and began to run.


Back at the bar he shouldered his way through the crowds of dedicated drinkers, looking for the one person who could help him tonight. He had left his own car at home and ridden with Kimmy; now what pressure could he put on the little rat to take him back to Washington tonight? He eventually found the skinny bespectacled nerd in a back room extolling the virtues of Linux to a bored looking girl who looked about ready to pour her beer over his head. Langly grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Kimmy, I need you to take me back to DC tonight. I have to get back, it's an emergency."

Kimmy sneered. "Whassup, Langly? Byers call and say he's lonely for ya?"

Langly stared desperately at him. "C'mom Kimmy, please, I'll make it worth your while ..."

But the smug young hacker was relishing his chance to make Langly squirm. "Sorry, Michael Bolton, I'm going nowhere tonight. Tomorrow morning, yeah?"

Langly swallowed down the rage and panic that threatened to explode out of him. He felt a sudden pain in his palms and looked down to see his hands bunched into fists, the nails digging deep enough to draw blood. He longed to smash his fist into Kimmy's smirking face but had just about enough self control left not to.

He didn't know how he got out of the bar; where he went until he found himself back outside the shabby motel a mile up the road where they had been staying. Stumbling back to his room, he threw himself down on the narrow lumpy bed and lay there awake.

//What are they doing, what are they doing right now?//

He lay like that, thinking of Byers and sweating all night for him till morning.


Something woke Mulder, some small unaccustomed noise in his bedroom alerted his sensitive subconscious and he came awake reflexively. A broad stripe of moonlight lay across the foot of the bed and reflected in the mirror opposite the window, making the room comparatively bright.

Mulder turned over, drowsily blinking as consciousness returned. God ... when did I last sleep so well? Feel fantastic ... last night ... !! Memory returned with a rush. Byers! Last night, Byers and me and ... Still half afraid it was a dream, he rubbed his eyes, reaching out, but found only empty space in the bed beside him. But the space was warm, and the evidence on the sheets was conclusive proof that last night had not just been the culmination of another fantasy. Mulder turned on his back, replaying the memory of the last few hours.

Byers. Byers spreadeagled under him, opening to him as he fucked him. The heat of him, the slick tightness as he buried himself deep in the other man's core, deep inside him as it was possible to be, welcoming Mulder into every part of him, opening his mouth to Mulder's kiss as he opened himself to Mulder's cock. Mulder groaned softly at the memory. But ... Byers? Where was he?

He fumbled for the light switch and clicked it on.

Byers was standing by the window, Mulder's robe wrapped round him, staring out at the night. His back was to Mulder, but every line of his body betrayed abject misery. Mulder sat up. "Byers? Are you okay?"

The younger man turned in surprise. "Sorry, I just got up to take a leak. Did I wake you?"

"Nah, s'alright ... something wrong?"

"No ... couldn't sleep, that's all." He stayed standing at the window. "It's stopped raining ..."

"Come back to bed, Byers."

The younger man sighed audibly as he came back to sit on the bed beside Mulder. A small frown was etched between his brows; an expression Mulder knew only too well. He had seen it so many times; when Byers had told him about Scully's cancer; when he had met him at the hospital when they thought she was dying. Nearly every time he had asked the Gunmen for help, so many times and in so many ways it had caused grief or hurt for them all, but especially for Byers. This man who was so like himself in many ways, idealistic, committed, courageous, but somehow without the shell of selfishness and self-protection that Mulder had built around himself. Suddenly he felt very protective of Byers; more like an elder brother than a lover. He reached out and rubbed a hand lightly up and down Byers' forearm. "Something's bothering you."

Byers smiled sadly and shook his head. "It's 4 am Mulder, and you're still doing your profiling routine ... can't you leave it out?"

"John, I know ... it's Langly, isn't it?"

Byers didn't answer, didn't meet his eyes.

"There's nothing you can do till the morning. So come back to bed."

Byers shook his head again, but he allowed Mulder to untie the belt of his robe and pull it off him, and slid tiredly back down beside him. Mulder pulled the covers up over them both, and settled down with an arm across Byers' chest, but making no attempts at more intimate contact. After a while Mulder heard his breathing slow down and felt his tense muscles relax as he slid into sleep.

He leaned forward and very gently brushed his lips across Byers' forehead. Byers' eyelids twitched as if he was dreaming, he sighed in his sleep and murmured something that sounded like "Ree ..."

Langly again. Okay, you may be able to walk right back in and take him back, Langly, but you're never going to hurt him again.

Mulder stayed awake a while longer, savouring the experience of having this unique, beautiful, desirable man sleeping in his arms. Something told him it would probably be the last time.

END of Part 4

Part 5: Deception: coming soon!

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Alison