The Idea of Forever by Te June/July 1998 Disclaimers: If they were mine Sunday night television would be a fuck of a lot more interesting, now wouldn't it? Spoilers: Maybe, someday, when I write a story with a plot, there'll be spoilers. This is not that day. Oh fine, it takes place in some weird little AU post-Terma. Summary: Goodbyes. Rating's Note: R for some poor language, pretty boys doing... um... pretty things. But they're neat about it, they are. Author's Note: A challenge from Joyce, explained at the end. A moment from the "Time" universe, something like a prequel (No, not *the* prequel. I'll get to it. It's weird when a story insists on telling itself back-asswards.), though it's not necessary to read that one first... somewhat less violent. Acknowledgments: To Alicia (of course) for tireless beta suffering at my cruel, cruel hands and to Dreamerlea, for distracting me with praise. Random Love: For my Sister Blue... because nothing matters other than forever. The Idea of Forever by Te All feedback to Daddy793@aol.com, ****** Alex eyed the hibachi doubtfully. "You invited them to a barbecue?" Mulder looked up at his companion of the past month, grinned with what Alex assumed was simple happiness. It was hard to say, really. It's not as though he'd ever seen a smile like that when they'd been partners, and these days... "And you might want to tone down the smile for our guests, Mulder." Lips folded slowly over sharp white teeth. It was clear that the older man hadn't gained complete confidence in his ability to avoid the fangs. Of course, as near as Alex could tell it never got precisely *easy,* but then he'd grown accustomed to healing with relative ease. "You don't like my smile?" Alex walked over to the edge of the roof and arranged himself comfortably, straddling the ledge. Seven p.m. and the sun was just barely down. He felt an itch, but knew it was as much psychological as anything else. A denimed leg dangled freely; a sudden gust, redolent of cherry blossoms and car exhaust, prickled at his scalp. It was really quite safe, though sometimes he thought it was a shame about the hair. "Well?" Turning in response to the gentle reminder, Alex saw Mulder balanced against one of the card tables they'd acquired for the evening. A sprawl more properly suited to a wall, or at least to something that wouldn't shatter with one strong blow. An optical illusion, of course. Mulder had to be supporting himself on that one heel.... Alex lost himself in admiration of the stillness of the lanky form for an endless moment before answering the amused quirk of the chestnut eyebrow. "I love your smile... the way the streetlights gleam, the way your eyes crinkle just a bit with that predatory amusement, the way the fangs dig in just a little..." Mulder snorted and flowed to his feet more fully before crossing the short distance between them. A chill and silky finger ran over Alex's temple, but he ignored it to watch the eyes. As usual the precise color was just beyond his ken, but sometimes they went gold.... The finger drifted down his cheek and without warning Alex snapped at it. A late jerk from the older man, a tiny hiss as skin broke and tore in Alex's mouth. "Most people get past the rooting impulse by age three...." Alex savored the thrum, the animal burn, catching the spare droplets and plunging for the wound... there... yes and the taste of the new flesh just enough time to... "Alex..." The wound was closing rapidly, trapping the tip of his tongue within Mulder's finger. An instant to thrill at the obscene intimacy before pulling his tongue out entirely. One last slow swipe before allowing the abused digit to slip free of its prison. Alex again relaxed against the pillar and watched Mulder examining his now perfectly pristine finger. The older man's focus was complete. "Mulder." "Hmm...?" "You're still too slow. I shouldn't have been able to catch you //that easily// like that. You're still thinking too much. Not following your instincts." "Is it always lessons with you, Alex?" "Some Rules must be learned.... We no longer live in the world where the only thing of value was that glorious brain of yours. You have instincts, drives, whatever.... Old in ways we can't understand. We have the power to use them--" "And if I'm... driven... by nothing more nor less than the need to feel you inside me? Wherever and with whatever you choose to penetrate me?" "Then I'm a very lucky man, indeed, to have a lover who owns the entire racial memory of the first and last tribe of suicidal masochists." The gleeful abandon with which Mulder tossed back his head to laugh gave Alex mixed feelings. On the one hand it was reassurance, all the doubts and hesitations he'd had about joining Mulder to him proved meaningless.... But it also made him afraid. He knew that the Others wouldn't have approved this choice at all... that Mulder was in no condition to be alone in this world, in this state. //He needs me.// "But about the barbecue, Mulder?" "What about it?" //Deliberately obtuse, or did I do... something to that brain?// "Mulder, why are you throwing a barbecue?" "I thought letters would be too impersonal." "I see. So you invited Skinner and Scully over here for a little chat over flaming meat?" "*You* heard the answering machine. Neither one of them is taking my resignation all that well." "No, I do see what you're saying, Mulder; it's just that I've got a few... concerns." "Like what?" "What did I tell you about fire?" "Smoke is freedom, flame is mercy?" The terror was instantaneous, unmanning. "Don't even jo--" "I know, I know.... *I* wasn't planning to do the cooking, Alex. Haven't you always pictured Walt as a Tyrant of the Tongs?" "Walt?" "Dab of barbecue sauce on his chin, kiss-the-cook apron, manly scent of mesquite--" Alex was on his feet and in the older man's space in an eyeblink, searching the bland face. Challenge and humor and more than a little just-plain-mean. "Mulder... don't tempt to me to violence." "And when did you ever need me for that?" Alex had to grin at that, and the look in the other man's eyes told him that the lesson about smiles, at least, had been learned. He let his hand drift through soft hair, tugging gently now and again. Mulder took the hint, and let his head loll to the side, eyes drooping half-shut so that only the glitter was visible. Alex rested his lips against the often-plundered neck and nuzzled, walking the fingers of his hand down and down the t-shirted chest. Cool and hard and all his.... Alex lapped at the marble neck, musing that the taste would go unnoticed by any not of his kind... no sweat to salt his tongue, the musk far too subtle to make mere humans ache this way... It was a good to have a love of dead things. A tiny sip was impossible to resist and he indulged, plunging within the sluggishly pulsing vein as he ran his hand over the hardness below. It was always the same, this moment... the ownership, the need... he'd denied himself for as long as he could but in the end they'd wound up just like this, wanting everything and taking it. The voice when it came was breathless and hoarse... he had drifted again. "You keep this up and our guests may not survive the evening, Alex." He pulled back with a low chuckle. "You were planning to let them live?" "Alex." "All right, all right.... I was... kidding." "Of course you were. No deaths tonight. At least not *here*...." "Oh, like it would be the first time. This building has seen plenty of carnage." A hand gripped his jaw hard, and Alex smiled inside. Of course it wasn't spectacularly healthy to appreciate the almost-pain, but the blithe //if not precisely well-adjusted// Mulder of moments ago was distressing. It had all been too quick, the adjustment to their new life. Together. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, not yet. Especially with the odd way Mulder behaved most of the time.... This was better. Comforting and familiar. "Not tonight, Alex. Not them." But the voice was still far too gentle. Never in his wildest imaginings had there been this level of care from the older man. Oh, he'd always known that he would have him... there was even a Plan. But it was supposed to have been on *his* terms. //Idiot. You're bitching about having everything you want.// Alex nuzzled into the palm, pulled his lips back just a little farther than was necessary for speech. "I thought we went over the dangers of your getting too close to my mouth?" The grip tightened and *there* was the gold... wild and glorious and he thought of the wolves that ran and burst through the snowdrifts all hunger and joy and oh yeah this is what I want... ... and he sucked in a gasp. "OK, OK... Anything you want, Mulder. Besides, I'm not all that hungry." The older man relaxed then, turned his grip to a light stroke along smooth, smooth cheeks and smirked a little. "I should hope not. We put a dent in Washington's gang pop--" "Urban *youth* groups. Get it straight." Mulder pushed at him in playful exasperation, went back to arranging the spices and tools. "In any case, next time *you* put on the dress and play victim." Alex couldn't quite stifle the laugh, and the mock-scowl he received in response from the other man was shockingly, tearingly endearing. It stilled the laughter, but could do nothing to hold back the taunt. "Mul-derrrr... you *know* my thighs just don't measure up in a miniskirt. While *yours*--" "What about my thighs?" "Those lithe, delicate stems..." "Oh, you sonofa..." The pounce sent him sprawling. As the maligned thighs pinned his hips, he saw the table with the meat on it tremble perilously close to disaster. Mulder had jarred it, if only a little. He really was getting better at this, and Alex was tempted to show him *just* how proud he was but the meat reminded him of his other concern. "Mulder--" "Submit, knave!" "Knave? What the-- never mind. There's another problem." Mulder sighed, rolled off, and settled himself on his back next to the other man. Alex couldn't help but savor the small moment of closeness, wondered what it would've been like to share heat... "What *is* it, Alex?" "What are you going to tell them when they ask why we're not eating?" "What do you mean not eating.... That's *sirloin*!" Alex blinked. Wasn't entirely sure whether to laugh or cry, settled for licking his lips and praying //No, sometimes I *do* think there's a God, Alexei. Perhaps even many. They just enjoy a good laugh as much as the rest of us...// for patience. "Mulder... when's the last time you ate something? Anything." He waited a moment for it to sink in before turning on his side and resting his hand on the older man's chest. "I just... I just thought we didn't... have to. No, I didn't. I didn't think." The tone was a marvel of dreamy bitterness. "Hey... c'mon, Mulder. I *have* been keeping you busy." Nothing but silence from the other man, and Alex cursed himself for bringing down the mood, wondered what he was thinking of. "Are you going to miss the dim sum *that* much?" Mulder snorted and ran a hand through his hair before dislodging Alex's hand with absentminded affection and sitting up. "Questionable epicurean tendencies aside, the idea of... forever..." //You wanted this... fucking *stalked* me-- down keep it down// Alex knelt up and bent to the other man's ear. "Yes, forever, Mulder. Think of what we *do* have... what we'll always have." Pale, hard flesh brushed against his face. He knew how to make it give... "Always, Alex?" Humor, hunger, and that purr of low grade arousal, making him *want*. "Always." He kissed Mulder then, a pleasure often forgotten in the frenzy of need. Alex felt the older man open to him and plunged inside. Oh, he could kiss Mulder for days, lose himself in the firmness of those lips, that cool, rough tongue, the threat... //Oh, Christ.// ... deep into that bit of flesh between lower lip and gum a flash of pain so impossibly intense he couldn't even cry out. Pinned he was //Stake through the heart? Inconvenient as all hell. Try to avoid it.// stuck right there and this was new, vicious and irresistible and jesus he can't possibly be getting much and then they went deep and he was sucking hard eyes closed can't you look at me when you're doing this but then they opened and it was dark black in moonlight and hands on his waist and it only hurt more when he pulled out slow and the lessons we learn... Iron in his mouth and something like fire, something like love. Mulder was panting against his mouth, aborted nuzzles and Alex knew he wanted more. //Everything... you can have everything....// As he was moving to pull them both back down there came the sound of car doors slamming, voices too familiar to be shunted to the simple drone of the city night. The guests had arrived. A minute stiffening of the body against his told Alex that Mulder had heard them, too. "They don't know I'm going to be here, do they?" "Would you like to explain this, Age-- Mulder?" Alex had settled himself back on the ledge after the obligatory disarming process. He was reasonably sure he hadn't done anything particularly supernatural. It bothered him to have no idea what the older man's plans were, //if he has any...// but he would willingly pretend to be human until Mulder said otherwise. He smirked at Scully, who looked more than willing to push him off the roof. Skinner was apparently ignoring him. Mulder looked... serene. "Just Mulder's fine, Walter. Can I call you Walter?" Alex didn't even try to suppress his grin; this was shaping up to be a truly interesting evening. The A.D. was visibly struggling to retain a semblance of calm. "Mul--" "Why did you resign? What the *hell* are you doing with Krycek? Where have you been? Do you know how long I've been trying to reach you?" Scully cut herself off abruptly, seemed to be trying to glare at both Alex and Mulder at the same time. //And why a barbecue?// Alex was trying very, very hard to giggle silently until he saw the look in Mulder's eyes. Hunted. He felt the muscles in his jaw loosen as the smile behind his face fell off. //Dammit. She always could do this....// "That *is* what he invited you both here to discuss. Patience, Scully." Alex caught the A.D.'s glare, the slight tension of a pulled spring, with a small thrill of excitement. This could get ugly. //One could only hope...// She whirled to face him. //That's right, focus on me.// "I wasn't talking to you--" "Scully, please! Let's... let's try to stay calm, all right? There's an explanation for this. All of it." Skinner broke in. "You're asking a lot, Mulder. You disappear without a trace, not that that's anything new for you, invite us over here for a *barbecue*..." //And you don't even have the fucking coals going, dammit, Mulder! //C'mon, Fox, look at me... recognize the basic absurdity...// "... Krycek here... Mulder, just tell us what's going on." Scully was beginning to slip toward the table with the tools on it. Alex sunk a knife just in front of her feet. "I seem to recall saying something about patience..." "And give me *one* good reason not to blow this SOB's head off." Scully was making a point of ignoring the blade at her feet; the rage was clearly as cool as she could make it. Alex said nothing, merely made a show of relaxing against the ledge again. //This is your cue, Mulder...// "You want a reason, Scully? How about the fact that you're no longer armed? Look, all I want to do is... explain what's going on. Please. Take a seat." The giggles were back again, and when Alex caught the stricken look on Scully's face he nearly fell off the roof constraining himself. Mulder had arranged the chairs in a rough square around what was supposed to be the dining table. He took a seat expectantly, and Alex joined him, after prudently removing anything resembling a weapon. They settled down to stare at the guests, who were currently eyeing the rickety foldout chairs with an air suggestive of everything from rage to bemusement. Skinner and Scully finally sat, and Mulder took that as his cue to produce a few chilled beers from the cooler. Alex beat down the urge to remind him that they didn't drink, either, and hoped for the best. "Are you both ready to listen?" Curt nods. Alex wondered about the tensile strength of the agents' jaws, idly turned over the idea of making them vampires, snorted as quietly as he could. Mulder scowled at him again, which sent him off into an internal debate as to whether or not to tell him, ever, how damned adorable that made him look. A rumble announced Skinner's impatience. How long had they been staring? A glance at Scully suggested too long. "All right. I'll answer your questions as best I can. I resigned because I can no longer fulfill my duties as an FBI agent. This is the first time I've been back here in several weeks, and I'm sorry that I haven't been in touch. It... it wasn't possible. I've been underground--" "Learning to live with the rats?" Mulder raised a hand, a gesture whose awkwardness made Alex bristle, and, seemingly, whose very existence made Scully angrier. He supposed he could understand... this had to be sudden. He brushed his hand along Mulder's flank surreptitiously, squeezed. "Alex Krycek has information, resources, and abilities--" "Why this, why now, Mulder?" "Are you insane? He killed your father, betrayed you at every turn--" "I never thought of you as a quitter." Alex watched Mulder closely; these people had been his anchors, were asking perfectly logical questions, really. The high forehead was creasing, long fingers clutching the edge of the table. It occurred to Alex that he wouldn't mind hearing the answers himself. "I don't quit, Skinner. But the fight... my life... pointless. Running in circles, jumping through hoops. Pick your cliche. Both of you know exactly what I mean. I'm tired of it. And now... now it's too late to go back. There are other ways." "What's he done to you?" "I don't like the sound of that 'too late;' you can come back. There are people you can talk to." Mulder put his head in his hands, his body shaking. Scully chose then to make her own gesture of peace, some nod to friendship. "Mulder, whatever it is... please, let us help you." The shaking got worse, and Alex knew a moment of confusion. A flood of well-being tempered with bitterness, regret and desire... //In a way, you will always be a part of us, Alexei.// He didn't know if he would ever grow accustomed to the intermittent, unpredictable waves of *Mulder* that rocked him. He tried to push himself across the barrier, to share the simple joy he could take in knowing that it would be forever. It wasn't an obsession with the dark, not a //sickness// flaw in his soul... he couldn't help but see the potential, even if he didn't quite understand it all yet himself. But the silence was growing thick, and the wall was still there. "Mulder--" Alex saw Skinner move to rise, but his focus was divided. Mulder was pulling at him, somehow, and he couldn't leave him, even if it was only a touch to his emotions, even though the older man wouldn't look at him. Without warning, Mulder threw his head back and laughed. A rich burble of sound that held nothing of their new lives, nothing of anything but the man himself. But it was loud. And it was strange. Their guests were confused, growing angry again, it was clear. "Dammit, what *is* this?" And then Mulder faced them, brushed an absent, welcome hand along Alex's shoulders, and smiled. Scully blinked, shook her head slightly. The move Walter had been making to stand ended with a shocked grunt as he settled back hard in his chair. "You see now, don't you?" "No..." "Of course you don't, Scully. Skinner? Walter. I know you do." Mulder flowed to his feet; Alex followed, noting the grip his lover took on the A.D.'s forearm with acceptance, though he couldn't help but glare at his former supervisor over Mulder's shoulder. "How?" The voice was far, far too old, and Alex could sense Mulder gentling his grin at last. "Does it matter?" He stood straight and made one last effort to reach for Scully. She was looking through him, and flinched from his touch. Mulder sighed, and Alex rested his hand at the base of the older man's spine. "It's over. I... I made my choice. Good-bye." With that, he turned to face Alex and it was all the younger man could do not to confirm the //victory// truth for the agents in the most graphic way possible, but he held himself to grasping a slack hand before pulling them off the roof, and away. ****** Another anonymous apartment, one of many Alex had maintained in the past. Held now not for nostalgia, but in the hopes of luring old associates out of the woodwork. //Here I am, here I am...// Mulder sat on the floor before the vaguely welcoming beige couch, apparently examining the pile of the carpet. Alex knelt beside him, cupped the older man's face and raised it. "How are you?" No answer for a long while, as Mulder slowly pulled himself from wherever he had gone before finally meeting Alex's eyes. "I'm really not sure, Alex.... It wasn't supposed to be that way." "Well... we did leave them the steaks. The evening might not be a complete loss..." Briefly incredulous quirk of eyebrows; a quiet chuckle that felt like home. Alex bent to kiss the cool cheek. A promise, a plea. When long, gentle fingers cupped his head and made their will known he surrendered to them gladly. And silently decided never to question the price of his desires. End. ****** The challenge? The divine Joyce wanted me to have the boys throw a barbecue. And there needed to be sauce licking. Oh well... Maybe Skinner and Scully had a nice long... chat?