Afternoon Weirdness VIII: Oh So Serious by Te 8/98 Disclaimers: They followed me home. I swear. Spoilers: Not a one. Summary: Alex didn't stay for breakfast. Ratings Note: NC-17 for m/m interaction, S for Schmoop. I think. Author's Note: This could probably be read alone, but it is meant to be a follow up to AWs 5-7. ("Soft Decline," "If You Knew My Infinite Charms...," "Six or Seven Steps Behind You.") Inspired by some of Dawn Sharon's commentary after reading AW 7. Acknowledgments: To my Sister Blue, because because because because be-CAUSE... *koff*... Sorry. And to Alicia, for her under- appreciated efforts to whip my stories into some sort of shape. Any remaining mistakes are, of course, my own. Feedback: PLEASE. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Afternoon Weirdness VIII: Oh So Serious by Te Daddy793@aol.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Through the fringe of his lashes, Mulder watched Alex getting dressed. The shades were drawn, but Mulder could tell it wasn't *nearly* day yet. Alex wasn't staying for breakfast. The older man knew full well that Alex knew he wasn't sleeping, and that Alex knew he knew, but this little game had its own brand of sentiment. One enjoys the illusion of a lover at rest, the other enjoys the often gratuitously slow pull and stretch of a process that had no right to the grace it stole. Both had the luxury of avoiding good-byes that had every opportunity to gain the unwelcome resonance of finality. However, Alex wasn't staying for breakfast. Mulder remained still, drank in the beautiful, mutilated form as Alex got in one last stretch before walking out of the bedroom. Soft thump of boot heels on carpet and Mulder wondered, for a moment, why Alex's exits were always so much more noticeable than his entrances. And then he could hear the apartment door closing with that vaguely satisfactory thunk it had, and he was peeling himself out of bed. Sweats and a t-shirt, laid carefully aside before joining Alex in the shower the night before, were thrown on. Fingers were run, futilely, through hair made even spikier by sleep and humidity. Mulder made it to the kitchen window just in time to see his lover stalking down the street. The cold, sober light of morning only served to make Alex stand out in stark relief against the rest of this dingy little corner of the world. //Too early for that outfit, Alex...// An obvious night creature on his way home from... What? A moment to wonder just how Alex thought of him when he wasn't in the younger man's direct view, and then Alex was turning, smoothly and with conscious ease, //Do you know I'm watching you? //Do you just assume someone always is?// into some random back alley. Sputter of what sounded to be a pathetically weak engine and he was driving east in a... In a lime green VW bug. Mulder blinked once, and again, muttered to himself about "certain sacrifices" and "camouflage," snatched up shoes and car keys, before heading out to follow. It was barely after five.... It was entirely possible he'd still be able to make it to work on time. ****** Merry chase through the back streets of cluttered Virginia suburbia, thoroughly un-merry chase over the horror of the Beltway. Mulder was quite sure that no one outside the nation's capital could be so insane as to have a thing like bumper-to- bumper traffic at speeds approaching 80 mph. He had heard things about L.A., though. But after a time, Mulder had to admit he approved of Alex's choice of vehicle. Although his own government-issued Taurus faded into anonymity relatively quickly given the surroundings, the human eye literally skittered *past* the Beetle. Too ugly. Too small. Too *wrong* for this day, this age. The color alone made the mind erect any number of walls in an attempt to make the viewer forget he'd ever seen such a thing. It was the Anti-Car. But Mulder was determined. Positively dogged in his pursuit of his lover. The man needed to *eat*. //I need to sleep more.// ****** Six-fifteen in the morning and Mulder had spent the last ten minutes watching Alex recline oh-so-casually as *he* watched what appeared to be the world's most incongruously placed upscale yuppie deli. The heart of Southeast was no place for bean sprouts and overpriced goose liver. He let his mind drift into a fantasy of iced cappuccino and Alex's naked skin. Maybe some pleasantly astringent vinegar, instead. Tart, juicy olive balanced in the softly crinkled navel. Sharp cheese sliced with any one of the knives probably on Alex's person at this very moment, placed gently on the ripe bow of the mouth and... Alex was flowing from the car, following an older man clad in an expensively tailored suit into yet another alley. Mulder remained still as long as he possibly could, steadfastly *not* thinking about random murder, or, perhaps, Alex on his knees, dirtying his jeans in yuppiemuck, his mouth on another man... Steadfastly *not* trying to decide which upset him more. //He didn't say it back... //He asked you not to say it...// And Mulder was in motion, gun out and tucked behind a fold of the sweats, moving just in time to see the older man walking away, and Alex tucking yet another manila folder into his jacket. Alex didn't even flinch when Mulder tucked the barrel of the gun into the soft pocket of his nape. "What *is* it, Mulder?" Abruptly, Mulder realized he hadn't a clue what to say. "You didn't stay for breakfast." //Well, at least I kept it simple...// "I didn't stay--" Alex cut himself off with a tooth-click of incredulity and turned, slowly, to face him. "Breakfast." Mulder nodded once and smiled at the look on the younger man's face, not letting his gun arm waver this time. "You're holding me at gunpoint..." Another nod. "... because I didn't stay for breakfast." It wasn't a question, so Mulder didn't treat it as such, merely ran the gun up from under the vaguely childish chin, over stubbled cheek to caress the ear. Alex turned slightly, helpfully. "You really ought to eat more, Alex." "So you're taking me out to eat." "Yes." "At gunpoint." "Yes. And then..." Alex quirked an eyebrow, moved a little closer. Mulder gave up on the game and let Alex catch his gun arm with his shoulder. Kissing distance and heat from spiky morning hair down to the knees that brushed and argued about spreading. "And then what, Mulder?" In the voice that could make him throb at twenty paces, that, at this distance, obliterated both intellect and shame... "And then we're going back to *my* car." A chuckle rumbled off the tongue at his ear. "And I'm going to open your jeans..." Mulder let his hands roam, triggered as they were by Alex's sharp little gasp, the slow, instinctive roll of hips against his own. "And then what, Mulder?" "And then I'm going to taste you..." Fingers scrabbled at Mulder's nape, finally pinching the skin a bit to get him to tilt his head up. Hungry mouth working at his throat and Mulder looked up and up past bricks and fire escapes into a bluing sky and let himself be driven back against the nearest wall. Several, rough, thorough laps and Alex pulled away from the waist up. "And then what?" "And then I'm going to tease and kiss and lick and nibble you until you grab me by the nape -- just like now -- and fuck my face, Alex." The voice was one step above a growl, the words incomprehensible, and Mulder could feel the impulses in the hand obsessively rubbing and pinching his neck. At least one of those impulses had to involve spinning Mulder around and doing his best to fuck him through this handy wall and jesus but the thought made him weak in the knees and liquid in the spine and, perhaps, one vicious squeeze away from coming in his pants but... "But only after you've had breakfast with me." Mulder had a moment to bask in the fierce pride that he'd gotten the words out, had made the nuzzling, worrying mouth quit working his throat for a frozen moment, but then Alex bucked hard against him, *ground* him into the wall and it hurt but any joggers going by right now would get one hell of a show... "What if I don't want to wait?" The words were menacing, the tone ragged with need. No way to separate the two, decide which was more responsible for his sudden decision that his spine wasn't liquid, at all.... Rather, it was a fuse and it was burning, sizzling, or maybe that sound was the chafe of the old t-shirt against mortar as his body refused to stop moving against Alex's. But when Alex dove in for a kiss Mulder managed, barely, to turn aside. A sound against his cheek that had something of rage, something of laughter, and a large portion of lust. "You're a lunatic." Ground against his chin. Another bite and Mulder would, perhaps, have to call in sick today. "I have a muffin in my car. If I eat the muffin, will you please blow me? Or let me blow you. Or both. We can definitely do both." "What kind of muffin?" "Mulder..." "All right, all right, do you promise to eat the muffin? The *whole* muffin?" Alex gripped Mulder's chin, turned him roughly and kissed him hard. Too many promises in the whipping, needful tongue to count. When Alex pulled away this time he was frowning, just a little, and dipped his head to hide it. Mulder wanted to smooth the tiny line on the pale brow, tell him he understood.... but settled for drawing the younger man a little closer. "Let's go." Alex had taken the moment to recover and gave Mulder his best "I'm about to fuck with you mercilessly" look, but the older man wasn't buying it. "We're taking my car." "But--" "We're *praying* your car gets stolen, burnt, and scattered to the winds." "But what about the muffin?" Mulder thought a moment. "I've got..." "Yes?" "I've got Tic Tacs in the glove compartment." That was definitely a snicker, but Mulder couldn't bring himself to care. He had Alex by the hand and was dragging him, with very little difficulty, to the Taurus. From the corner of his eye Mulder could see the younger man scanning the street for... for whatever, and that, too, was just fine. Threw him in the passenger seat and drove off with shaky hands and the world's tightest sweatpants. ***** This was stupid, and dangerous, and several degrees of wrong but when Alex had looked at him, just *looked* at him at that last stoplight.... Mulder had decided the parking lot of this Friday's would simply have to do. When his seatbelt had refused to come off, Alex had produced a knife from... somewhere... and cut him free, guiding his head none too patiently to where he needed it most. Salt-bitter and blunt. Harsh cries and the simple faith he was losing hair. A constrained buck that was nowhere close to what he'd asked for... //much too fast// ...but perfect, just the same. This need.... This need was criminal in its own right but when Alex called his name like he was whipping his head back and forth in an agony of pleasure it occurred to Mulder that sin was nothing if not a good man's brother. No time to taste, just take it all, believing with a nearly terrifying ferocity that yes, there'd be another chance. And then Mulder was burrowing under the t-shirt that reeked pleasantly of the both of them to get at the navel for just one lap, get that one last jerk and he was being tugged up for a long, slow kiss that only made the fuse of his spine send sparks of pain through his body. Mulder damned the awkwardness, wished, dimly, for one of the shameless gas- guzzling boats of his childhood, while he crawled into Alex's lap and started to stroke himself along the lean, //We *will* get breakfast.// muscular form. Alex let his kisses travel back down to the older man's throat and slipped a welcome hand into the sweats. Alex never kissed him at these times, just let Mulder settle against his ear and left massive, bruising marks along his neck and shoulders with each knowing, powerful stroke. There was no mystery to this, and Mulder gave in to the request gladly, whispering and sobbing into the pixie- pointed ear, begging and promising while Alex brought him off at his own relentless pace. ****** Alternately sticky, swollen, and bruised, they panted quietly in each other's arms before Mulder rolled himself back into the driver's seat. "You're in no condition to drive." "You are?" A pause while Alex appeared to give it some serious thought. "Definitely not." Mulder nodded, made a weak grab for the car keys, gave up. "It's because you don't eat enough, you know." ~~~~ End. ~~~~