Gifts
by Te
11/98

Disclaimers: The boys don't belong to me, and I am green 
with envy. Or the stomach flu. Who could tell?

Spoilers: None.

Ratings Note: R for language, m/m interaction.

Summary: Christmas schmoop.

Author's Note: Rae asked me to write her something sweet.
Here goes. And Kass, I hope this makes up for that *other* 
story. 

Acknowledgments: To Di for many helpful comments, to 
Spike for fine and thorough beta, to Nonie for timely
nit picks, and to my Sister Blue, for putting up with this
sort of behavior.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gifts
by Te
Daddy793@aol.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warm, wet winter in D.C. and Christmas was looking even
uglier than usual. A windy squall had taken down most of 
the streetlight decorations. The remaining snow of a week 
past was black sludge on slippery streets. The air was only 
just cold enough to make the humidity bitter. 

Mulder looked out the window and wondered whether the 
malarial swamp was buried all that far beneath the asphalt.
He thought of the original settlers, and wondered if their 
shivers felt as sickly unhelpful as his own. 

And Alex had been gone when he woke this morning.

They'd had no plans to speak of, and Mulder hadn't even 
heard from the other man since their last explosive 
meeting. Sticky August and Alex's sweat had been as high 
and sharp as his cries.

So good and Mulder felt a wave of heat slam into his balls,
lazy and implacable as a storm tide. He'd marked Alex that 
day, greedy bites welcomed by throat, by chest and thigh.

They'd had a year of this -- a weekend here, an hour there 
-- few words but all of them had the consistency of brands. 
"Please" and "more" and "again," and Mulder knew Alex 
had felt them, too.

So it was up to Mulder to figure out just where he'd 
screwed up. 

It had started with the same dark excitement as always. 
Mulder with a low purr at his ear and a restless hand 
roaming his chest. A slow subtle urge to lay himself out 
somewhere to be used and sacrificed for some nameless, 
grinning god that only Alex knew.

He'd said: "I missed you."

And it might have been either of them, twined in the dark 
as they were, nothing but gloom-shadowed neon and 
arc-sodium to light incomplete stretches of skin.

After, they had lain together on the floor, heedless of the 
drafts and scratch of the carpet, and Mulder had held the 
other man close, stroking and petting. The clock on the 
wall was the only piece of furniture he could make out, 
ticking oblivious to Mulder's anxiety.

"How long?"

//Give me the night. It's yours to provide...//

"A few days this time, I think." Pause hardened by the 
brief freeze of muscle under his hands. "If you want."

Mulder had pulled him closer still, searched for Alex's 
mouth with his own.

"I want."

"Mmmm... I love it when you're direct."

"Bedroom."

Low chuckle tickled his cheek, and Alex wriggled a little 
so that Mulder was draped over him. "You feel so good, 
though..."

Before he knew what he was doing, Mulder had started a slow 
rock against the other man's ass. For a while, the only 
sounds were the slide of smooth skin and soft moans, but 
the idea of the bedroom was an important one.

"Alex--" And the hoarse rasp of his voice was a brittle 
shock. The knowledge of desire can be terrible.

"Mmm?"

It may or may not have been a question. 

"Alex, if we brain ourselves crawling around in the dark to 
look for lube the romance of the moment will probably 
fade."

Long-suffering sigh from below and Mulder's smile was 
nearly painful. Alex knelt up again slowly, allowing as 
little of his body to lose contact with Mulder's as 
possible. 

And when Alex had turned the tables on him, flipped him
over and rode him hard, Mulder couldn't think to complain. 
And carpet burns would've been irritating to say the least.

They'd curled together to sleep, but Mulder was too drawn 
to Alex's softened features to rest. A few days was a 
wonderful concept, but Mulder couldn't help but wonder what 
the other man had done to earn them this time.

The holiday season was always hectic after all, and he
doubted the nameless old men were busy putting together 
new bikes and dream houses. He and Alex may have found 
themselves on something like the same side, but Mulder 
would never be familiar with the shadows. He didn't want to 
be.

Alex was only covered to the waist by the blankets, and 
Mulder didn't want him to ever be cold, or alone, but it 
would be foolish to pretend that wasn't precisely how the 
other man spent his life. 

There were, however, ways around that. Mulder had crept out 
of bed to his closet, rummaged for the box he'd had sitting 
in there since a few weeks after their last encounter. 
Mulder sat on the floor, idly running his hands over the 
wide, smooth surface, and waited for Alex to wake.

Perhaps it hadn't taken very long, but Mulder had been 
dozing against the closet door when a gentle hand shook 
him awake.

"Mmmph. Five more minutes, Scully, I swear the spleen-
sucking mutants will still be there..."

A very un-Scullylike laugh. "What's wrong, Mulder? Do I 
snore?"

Mulder opened his eyes to find himself being thoroughly 
scrutinized by the other man, casual words or no. Alex had 
his head cocked to the side, and his thumb had made a 
surreptitious move closer to his pulse.

"I'm fine Al--" An untimely yawn. "Alex. I was just waiting 
for you to wake up."

"On the floor."

"Well, yes."

"Naked."

"Are there better ways to wait for you?"

Alex laughed again, shook his head and dragged Mulder to 
his feet. "What's in the box, hmm?"

Mulder leaned in for a slow kiss of sleep and comfort. 
"It's for you."

"For me?"

"We're not being very bright, are we?"

"Not at all. Come back to bed, we can try this again after 
another--" A long yawn. "Another three hours of sleep."

"But don't you want to open your present?"

"For me?"

"We've been over this, Alex."

"But I'm *tiiiiiiiiiiired*."

"I never knew you could whine like that."

"Mmph. You should hear me whimper."

"I have."

Slow smile in gleaming neon. "You should hear it again."

"I really can't argue with that."

"Good boy. Bed now?"

"But, Aaaaalex..."

"You need to work on that. Not quite enough pule. Stretch 
out the x'es." And Alex was tugging him back to bed. 

Mulder complied, but brought the box with him, and settled 
it firmly between them when they'd settled under the covers 
again.

"Dammit, Mulder, you took so much time the sheets got cold 
again."

"Picky bastard, aren't you?"

"I'm just going to have to leave you if you don't continue 
to keep me in the style to which I've grown accustomed."

An image of Alex nude save for a collar and big "M" on his 
ass was nearly vivid enough to drag him off to sleep, 
but...

"Present, Alex."

"I really can't believe you bought a Christmas present for 
me. I mean I -- how do you know I'm not Jewish?"

Mulder gave the sheets a pointed look.

"Reformed?"

"Please don't. Besides, it's not a Christmas present, it's 
a Whenever-The-Hell-He-Shows-Up-Again Present."

A snicker in the darkness. "So if I'd waited until 
February?"

"Assuming I hadn't died of dehydration from wild 
masturbation?"

"You think about me when you jerk off?"

"Mostly just before, but that's not the point."

"OK, OK, I'll open it. You better fucking have my 
Groundhog's Day present ready when I come back again, 
though."

"Picky *and* greedy."

"You weren't complaining with your cock down my throat."

"I was, too. 'Oh God, Alex, more,' is actually ancient 
Sumerian for 'You are damned annoying, but you *do* give 
good head.'"

"And that little shriek?" 
 
"There was a spider on the wall. A big one."

"You have all the answers, don't you?" The words were 
snappish, but the voice was warm.

"Yes, grasshopper. See?"

"Oh, I see, sensei. Wanna grab my pebbles?"

"I wouldn't call them pebbles, per se..."

"Hey, I was trying to go with the metaphor, Mulder."

"Wise man say: You mustn't run before you learn to walk, 
grasshopper."

"I think I may beat you to death with this box."

"I could die content if you'd just open the damned thing 
first."

"Can we try to drag out the suspense a little while 
longer?"

"No."

"Awww... you're just no fun anymore, Mulder."

"That's not what you said whe -- Would you just open the 
*box*?"

Another chuckle, "Almost got you..." but Alex was opening 
the present.

Crinkle of paper and Mulder remembered the smiling young 
woman at the store asking if he'd wanted it wrapped as 
well. They hadn't had anything painfully garish, so Mulder 
had declined. 

"I smell dead animals."

Mulder smiled, waited. He was prouder of this gift than he 
cared to think about. "I was hoping to appeal to your 
predatory side."
 
"Just a side?"

"Well, it's been *months* since you chewed on me with any 
real fervor."

"Any real -- You really are asking for it."

"And here I was worried I wasn't being obvious enough."

Mulder could hear Alex shaking out the jacket better than 
he could see it.

"Oh, wow."

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, Mulder... Thank you."

The words were muted, but then, so were they both. It 
really had been late. 

"It's got all sorts of pockets for..."

"Stuff." And the smile was audible.

"And it also has..."

"Yes?"

"Kevlar lining."

"Kevlar."

"Yes."

"Kevlar lining."

"Um-hmm."

"You crazy sonofabitch... you had this specially made for 
me?"

"Well, the sizing was a little difficult and you can't just 
go out and *buy* Kevlar anywhere--"

"Yes you can."

"I don't want to know. Anyway, yes, I had it made for you. 
Stylish, yet practical."

Long silence, and Mulder started to get a little worried.

"Mulder, I... I didn't... I don't have..."

He tossed the box off the bed, pulled the other man in for 
a long, slow kiss. Alex tasted of a little salt, and the 
smell of new leather was strong and rich. They'd made love 
again, tired and sweet, and Alex had kept his eyes closed 
the whole time. 

And when Mulder woke up, he was alone. The urge toward 
anger was powerful, and the too often false sentimentality 
of the season wasn't helping. They were supposed to have a 
little time, and even knowing that Alex often had to leave 
with minimal warning didn't ease the bitterness.

This was too much. Mulder had just given the man a present,
not demanded to meet the other man's parents and have a 
commitment ceremony.

The thought had its own dark humor.

"Hey, Mom, remember Dad? Yeah, well, this is the guy who 
may or may not have killed him. And we're going to get 
sorta kinda married. What? I didn't mention I was gay? 
Mom...? Mom? Why are you twitching like that? Mom? Put the 
gun down, Mom..."

Mulder laughed alone. Alex would've appreciated the humor, 
but he wasn't here. 

He got himself a beer and tried to think it through. One, 
Alex had been happy to see him. Two, Alex had proceeded to 
prove that in several messy ways. Three, Alex had liked the 
jacket -- evidenced by the fact it was gone. The receipt 
was still there; he wouldn't be returning it. 

However, he hadn't brought anything for Mulder. 

The idea was absurd -- Alex Krycek didn't run off in a fit 
of guilt because of a holiday faux pas. Alex didn't do fits 
of guilt very well. Alex didn't do guilt very well, period. 
It was one of the differences between them that Mulder 
appreciated -- there was little chance the man would try to 
horn in on his moping time.

The door opened before he could circle back in on his 
thoughts.  Alex, bejacketed and wearing ice crystals in his 
hair. The cold air tried to follow him inside, but Alex 
kicked the door closed.

"Why aren't you still asleep?"

Mulder searched the other man's eyes for a long moment. 
"The bed got cold."

"And you call *me* picky."

"Where did you go?"

//Don't *do* that.//

"Just... just out, Mulder. I had to... do some thinking."

"What?"

"Well, you got me this coat..."

"Don't tell me you left me here to drive myself insane just 
to find a present."

"As if you don't regularly bugger yourself up *anyway*."

"Dildos are besides the point."

Wicked smile. 

"Sex toys? Have we reached that point in the relationship, 
Alex?"

"There's a special point?"

"Alex."

"I thought I told you to work on that."

"Alex! Why? Why did you... I don't need anything. Presents 
aren't... Dammit, it's not like a hostage exchange, Alex."

"So few things are..."

Mulder geared himself up to yell again, but Alex held up 
his hand.

"Look, Mulder... I know you didn't mean to make me think 
this way, and really, you didn't. So few people..." Alex 
frowned, shook his head. "That isn't important. I just 
want... I just want you to know how much I... appreciate 
being with you."

"And later, we can watch college football, clap each other 
on the shoulder, belch loudly, and point at the 
cheerleaders' tits. Lest we get too emotional."

"Such an asshole."

"But you... appreciate... me, anyway."
 
Alex smiled, moved over to Mulder. Stretched out so he was 
leaning back against the arm of the couch, back resting on 
Mulder's thighs. 

"You could say that."

Mulder laughed, ran his hand along the other man's chest.

"The jacket isn't *that* warm, Alex. A tee shirt isn't 
enough."

A snort. "Yes, dad, I'm sorry. But remember where I'm 
from."

"Florida? Utah? Vladivostok? Morocco?"

"Yes."

"Asshole."

"Mm-hmm." Alex sighed contentedly, nuzzled a little closer.

"So...."

"Yeah?"

"What'd you get me?"

Mulder could feel the smile through the cotton of his robe, 
and then Alex was moving Mulder's hand a little higher and 
to the left.

Mulder swallowed once. "All mine?"

Alex buried his face against Mulder's belly, whispered. 
"All yours."

"But if I tell anyone, you'll have to kill me."

"Yes, and them, too."

"Hmm... maybe it's the Christmas spirit--"

"Singing is also a crime punishable by death."

"I've heard *you* sing."

"Yes, but I'm good at it. And you're not."

"So it's *bad* singing that's against the law."

"Mulder."

"Hey, I'm just trying to clarify."

"Mulder."

"Hmmm....?"

"Shut up and cuddle me."

~~~~
End.
~~~~