TITLE: World Without End
(8/?)
AUTHOR: Rachel Anton
E-MAIL: RAnton1013@aol.com
I used to believe in things like fate. I never would have admitted it but at one time I thought Mulder and I were "fated" to be together. That he was my destiny. I think he was in some way. He must have been because even though Alex just fucked me, I still feel Mulder inside me, living my life along with me. Me and Mulder just got fucked by Alex Krycek. That's honestly how I feel and I don't know what to think about that.
I don't know if I really believe in fate anymore because I don't think there is a force in the universe that could have planned this.
"Dana…shit…" he pants into my ear, collapsed on top of me, still almost completely clothed. "I…I wanna…I wanna do better. Come to bed with me."
He wants me to come. He wants to make me come. I don't know if I can. I don't know if I want to. I feel like every nerve ending is jangled and raw. It's all just too much.
He pulls off of me and buttons up his pants and I turn back over to look at him. Jesus, he's still wearing his fucking leather jacket.
But somehow, despite all the clothes, he looks naked standing there, his face flushed and sweaty and his eyes pleading silently. He holds out his hand to me and I take it and pull up to a standing position.
"Come to bed with me."
He wants to lay down with me, to hold me, to make love to me after this frenzied fuck. We're both still shaking. God, I think I do want that. I think I need it more than anything right now. And for Christ's sake, it's what I've been telling him he should want. Now he does. He's asking me to let him in. He's asking for permission to let me inside him. I should be congratulating him for his attempt at a mature, adult relationship. A caring, loving relationship. But I'm so afraid. Sex is sex but this…this would be intimacy. I've been so careful for so long. God, Mulder, what should we do?
"I thought you didn't like to do it in beds."
He flinches and I immediately feel stupid for having said that.
"Who told you that?"
I don't answer because I don't want to betray a confidence and I also don't want to talk about it anymore. It was the wrong thing to say.
"Roseanne? Did she tell you that?"
He looks angry. Shit. What is wrong with me?
"Nevermind Alex. I…"
"No, no it's okay. She's right. I don't. Not usually. I'd like to with you Dana. Please."
Please?? I don't think I've *ever* heard Alex say please before. Not even "please pass the peas". Never.
My words from that first night at the pool come back to me. What are you so afraid of? Take the chance.
He takes my hand and starts pulling on it like a little kid.
"Please. Come to bed with me."
And I do. Oh, Mulder, I hope this is what you would have wanted.
When we get to his bedroom we both finally take our clothes off in a strangely shy and awkward ceremony, our backs turned to each other. I crawl under the covers and look over at him still standing there. The only light in the room is coming in through the window. The moon is full tonight and the ground is covered with snow so it's actually pretty bright. He's really quite beautiful. I don't know if I ever noticed just how beautiful before now. But there's something wrong, something that's not him.
"Take it off," I tell him as he starts walking towards the bed.
"Are…are you sure?" He looks scared for some reason. As if I'd never seen him before.
"Yes. I want to see you, Alex. Just you. Like in the pool."
He smiles nervously and starts removing his plastic arm and I distract myself by looking out the window. I know he doesn't like me to watch him doing this although I don't really understand why. When I hear the thud of the prosthetic being placed on his dresser I turn back to him and sigh. Much much better.
God, he really is a gorgeous man. Even without the arm he's got a body like a Greek God. Broad shoulders, well muscled chest and stomach with just the right amount of hair, his skin so light it almost shimmers, strong, muscular legs. God, is this mine?
I've taken the left side of the bed which means he has to climb in on my right. We lie there on our backs for a little while, staring up at the ceiling and half listening to the continuing revelry outside. It sounds like they're all getting pretty wasted out there. I can hear him breathing next to me though, even over the din. He's breathing very loudly, very quickly. He's still shaking.
I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing or saying. I haven't been in a situation like this in over a decade.
"What are you thinking about, Alex?"
"Hmm? Um, nothing really."
"Nothing?" We just had sex and he's thinking about nothing? I find that very hard to believe.
"I was just…you know, it's funny. I don't ever really want to have sex with people in my bed because I'm afraid if I do, they'll want to stay and now I'm afraid to do it with you here because I'm afraid you'll want to leave."
"Why would I want to leave?"
He doesn't answer and I turn over on my side and prop my head on my elbow so I can look at him. I reach out and wipe some of the moisture from his brow with the tips of my fingers. His eyes slip shut and he shivers lightly.
"Alex? Why? Why do you think that?"
He sighs and when his eyes open he looks angry again. Not at me though. At himself perhaps for feeling an inkling of insecurity.
"Dana, you're…I dunno, you're just so goddamn perfect. It's actually a little aggravating. You deserve…I mean you must want…I don't know. I'm not a very nice man Dana."
What is it about men that turns them into post-coital amnesiacs? Doesn't he remember that I've known him for years? Has he forgotten that he didn't just pick me up in some bar somewhere? I would think that after all this time, he knows me well enough to know that I wouldn't just jump into this without knowing exactly who and what he is.
"Nice is overrated. I prefer passion. Besides, nice doesn't always mean good. You can be a very nice person and still not be a very good person and vice versa."
He laughs harshly as if to say he isn't either of those things and then he turns his head slightly to the left, finally looking at me. I've never seen such doubt in his eyes.
"Dana, I'm not even…I mean I'm…I'm not whole. Not a whole man."
He glances down to the place where his arm used to be and grimaces.
"God, Dana. What the hell are you doing to me? I've never felt so fucking insecure in my life."
Great. That's just the effect I love to have on a man. What is it about me?
I look at what's left of his arm carefully for the first time really. I've never been this close before. It's just a few inches from my face. I still don't really know all that much about how it happened. Just what Mulder told me and he wasn't actually there. I can tell just from looking at it this close that it wasn't exactly a clean cut. It reminds me of pictures from medical school of farmers and factory workers who'd gotten their arms chewed off by haywire machinery. The skin is tight and shiny. I'll bet it still hurts him a lot of the time.
"Alex, being whole has nothing to do with having a particular kind of body. It's about what kind of person you are. It's not the specific parts but how they fit together. And you…you're beautiful and complete, Alex. Everywhere."
I brush my fingers lightly over the remnant of his arm and he shudders under my touch.
"Is it very sensitive?"
He nods and looks down at me with an almost panicked expression. I place a featherlight kiss on the stump and he gasps and squeezes his eyes shut.
"Does it still hurt you?" I ask, running my lips over him in a rain of kisses.
"Not…not now," he grunts through clenched teeth. I start lapping at him, working over the tightened flesh with my tongue and I notice that he's hardening again underneath the sheet.
"Does it feel good, Alex?"
He takes a few deep breaths and then just moans. I guess it does. I keep licking him there and start moving my hand over his chest as it rises and falls.
"Will you tell me?" I whisper to him.
"Tell you…?"
"Tell me how. Tell me what happened to you."
His body tenses even more and I wonder if this was a good idea. I just feel like I need to know for some reason.
"Didn't Mulder tell you?"
"He told me what he knew. He wasn't there, Alex. I want to know what it was like for you." I stroke his cheek with my fingers and place another open mouthed kiss on his stump and he actually squirms. He actually whimpers. And I decide I want to hear a lot more of that sound.
"Please tell me." I kiss my way up his shoulder and onto his neck. "Please." My lips close over his earlobe and I suck lightly and rake my nails down the inside of his right arm. "Please." Finally a lick behind the ear, as per Roseanne's suggestion. He doesn't growl. In fact the childlike whine that comes from the back of his throat is about the furthest thing from a growl I can imagine. But I like it even better. "Please."
I feel his fingers tangling in my hair and suddenly he's pulling my face away from his ear and then he's kissing me hard and wet. His intentions are clear. It's obvious he'd rather fuck again than talk about this. And although he's making it mighty tempting with his hot, passion-filled kiss, I'm still overwhelmed with the need to hear his story.
I pull away from his mouth and he groans in protest.
"Tell me first."
He laughs and shakes his head.
"Upryamuy."
He's called me that enough times for me to know what it means by now. Stubborn.
"You bet."
"I don't really remember that much, Dana. It was all so long ago and I wasn't completely in my right mind to begin with."
"Just tell me what you remember."
He takes a deep breath and starts playing with my hair, twisting it around his fingers and combing it over my shoulders.
"I remember that it was very cold. I was kind of a mess when it happened. I hadn't eaten or slept really in a few days so I wasn't physically in the best condition. And there were a lot of them so I couldn't…I mean I tried to fight but…"
He sighs and his hand tightens in my hair. I sense a bit of self reproach. Could he possibly think there's something wrong with him for not being able to prevent it? Then again, isn't that exactly the way I would think if it were me? Isn't that what I've been torturing myself over for four years now?
"Anyway, I fell asleep by the fire. I was just so tired…They woke me up and I was so disoriented… they managed to hold me down and restrain me. I didn't completely realize what was going to happen until I saw the one guy holding a knife in the fire. Then I finally realized the significance of the fact that they were all missing their left arms, what they were planning on doing with that knife… I think the realization was almost enough to make me pass out actually. But strangely enough, I didn't."
I remember a time, strapped to a chair, a madman's prisoner, looking at the needle in his hand, knowing that he planned on lobotomizing me. I remember the moment of realization and the sickening terror I felt. Except I got away. I was saved. By Mulder. Alex didn't have anyone to come to his rescue. Not that I would have said he deserved to be saved at the time. I remember when Mulder told me the story I was just so glad it hadn't been him that I hadn't thought of Krycek at all. It seemed to be a good punishment. But no one deserves to be brutalized like that. No one deserves to be so cold and alone and frightened.
"Alex…" I mumble into his chest and he squeezes me to him.
"I don't know how long it actually took. I think I blacked out after about fifteen minutes. Something must have scared them away though because when I woke up they were gone. And um…so was my arm. It was nighttime and it was probably about 40 below. Probably a good thing actually. I think the cold froze the blood a bit, otherwise I probably would have bled to death. I couldn't really move so I just kind of lay there all night drifting in and out of consciousness. I was sure I wasn't going to make it to see the sun come up. I think it was the longest night of my life. The next thing I remember is waking up in this seedy hospital bed…Dana, why are you crying?"
God, am I? I guess I am. There are tears all over my face and his chest.
"I don't…I'm just…I'm glad that you're here," I croak out and for some reason speaking just makes it worse. The burn in the back of my throat gets stronger and I start shaking.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even told you. It's not the most pleasant bedtime story in the world."
I can't even talk. All I can do is sniffle and shake my head.
"Don't cry, Dana. I can't…I can't stand it."
He pulls my head back to his face and starts kissing my cheeks, wiping the tears with the tip of his tongue.
"Shh, don't cry. It's okay."
He kisses my lips again, softly, sweetly this time. His hand runs down the side of my face and over my neck and then finally settles on the curve of my hip.
"I've never told anybody that whole story before Dana," he whispers into my mouth. "I don't know what it is about you."
His hand glides lower, down over the outside of my thigh and then back up the inside. He rolls over onto his side so that he's facing me fully and so that I can feel him, still hard even after reliving that horrific memory, and pressing against my stomach. His gentle kisses and soft caresses soothe me and I stop crying eventually.
And somehow, after awhile, I'm beyond being soothed and start moving rapidly towards being aroused again. He seems to sense the change in me and adjusts his attentions accordingly, kissing a little deeper, touching a little more aggressively. Still, he's surprisingly tender. I'm starting to feel something building in me, something that started what seems like hours ago now and was never really properly finished.
I wrap my leg over his and he pushes his thigh forward a little. The tiny hint of contact is enough to make me moan and pull him between my legs. I start rubbing myself up and down his thigh and he laughs against my neck as he licks it.
"Feel better?"
I nod, feeling his hand on my ass, moving lower and forward and, God, his finger is inside of me. I moan again and clutch the back of his head with both hands, pressing his mouth harder against my neck. He starts sliding his finger in and out of me at a terrifyingly slow speed, so gently, so softly it almost makes me start crying again.
"I wanna make you feel good, Dana. Does that feel good?"
"Yeah," I whimper. Not good enough though. Not enough. I'm suddenly all the way back to the point I was at on that kitchen table, ready to explode but not getting quite enough stimulation.
I roll over onto my back, pulling him along with me so that he's lying on top of me. So that he's lying between my legs. I arch up, feeling him pressing against me and it feels so good I think I might die.
"Dana…God, Dana. What do you want? Tell me what to do."
I don't even know. I can't even think. All I can do is groan with frustration and grind up against him. How did I get so over stimulated so fast again?
"I…I want you inside me," I mumble, thinking maybe this time it will be enough but he shakes his head.
"No you don't. Not yet."
And then he starts kissing his way over my chest, stopping to suckle my nipples for a short while and then continuing down, down, down. Over my stomach and then in a line down that hypersensitive place between my belly button and the beginning of my pubic hair. He dips down between my widely spread legs and licks the inside of my thigh which makes me want to scream and then he looks up at me with a smile.
"You're so wet. It's all over your legs," he tells me, as if I don't realize I'm horny as hell or something.
"Al-eexx…"
"Shh, you'll be better soon."
Unlike before, he doesn't head right for paydirt this time. Instead he runs his tongue around the area between the top of my thighs and my outer lips. A whole circle, and then another one, slightly closer. And again and again in ever tightening, teasing circles which are making my head pound and my eyes cross and when I look down he's just smiling away and then finally…FINALLY, his tongue is on my clit. My thighs clamp around his neck and we both moan at the same time.
I can't believe how close I am. I don't think I fully appreciated this man's talent when he was doing this before. It was all so quick and confusing, I didn't even completely realize what was happening. But this time I am fully aware of every nuance, every sensation. He knows. Oh God, he knows exactly what to do and he does it so well. I watch him because it's just such an amazing sight and he watches me back. His eyes, I never noticed how beautiful and expressive his eyes are.
"You taste so good," he whispers and I jerk upwards, needing his mouth back right away.
"Duhu…Don't! Don't stop!"
God, that was so loud. How did I get like this? He laughs at my outburst and then gets back to work.
This time he's really going at it, fast and hard and then he slides two of his fingers back inside me and starts pumping into me and suddenly I feel very light, like I'm floating away. Then my whole body clenches and I feel a wave of pleasure so immense that I almost can't stand it and then another and another.
I can't believe that something so good could come out of something so bad.
End Chapter Eight
Continued in Chapter Nine
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