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Alex Krycek sat in an oversized rocking chair in the pale yellow light
of the morning sun. He wore no clothes, relishing the warm rays on his
bare, darkened skin. The Vodka bottle between his legs was half-full;
the urge to drown his sorrows with liquor was overwhelming. All his
thoughts focused on one event: last night with Fox Mulder. Everything
had been so wonderful, so beautiful, so unlike any fantasy he could
have hoped for. After years of waiting for the right moment to see if
Mulder would accept him, his love, it finally happened. It had been
the best night of his life. And the worst.
There had been no anger. Gone was the usual way Mulder acted around
him. That night, Special Agent Fox Mulder had been calm, sexually
charged and ready to fufil all the dreams Alex ever had. Well, almost
all. The sex had been wild, intense, like the strong gaze in both
men's eyes. It had felt so good, so right, like they were meant to be
together. Mulder had filled him and thrust hard, and nothing had ever
been more perfect.
Alex had lost himself. No longer was he Alex Krycek,
triple-agent-Russian spy-one-armed freak. Then, he was just Alex --
Fox Mulder's lover. Covered in warm kisses and a fine sheen of sweat,
stealing the essence of the man that he ached for.
He paused his thoughts to take another swig from the bottle. There was
no need to wipe the tears that slid down his cheeks. The thought
continued; it had all gone downhill from there.
When they had parted, breathing heavily and both sated from release,
Alex gathered the older man in his arms. He kissed Mulder's neck and
nibbled on his ear. What he had felt at that moment was undescribeble,
even to him. His heart would have burst if he had not said it. "I
love you."
Mulder pulled away, shocked. Alex had felt his stomach drop. The
amused look in Mulder's eyes told him what was really going on. It
took all strength left in him to keep still.
"What? You love me? Oh, Alex, I-I just thought-I'm sorry."
Alex's heart broke into a million pieces. Crushed.
Mulder moved further away. "I thought you needed this, like I did. If
I had known that you. . .I never would have. . ."
Alex closed his ears. He had moved in a frenzy, dressed and rushed
out. Wanted to close his ears to what Mulder had said. Kept it
together long enough to get home, then burst into tears. Anger raged
through his veins, anger with himself for admitting his weakness, anger
with Mulder for using him, anger at everything for turning his life
into one big joke.
Now, as the memories invaded his mind, the sorrow brought soft sobs and
frequent tears. The alcohol did nothing to dull the pain, and no
matter how inviting and warm the sun was, he still felt cold. He
rocked and cried and drank. Nothing helped. The only thing he wanted
was what he couldn't have.
As the hours past, he pushed the pain further and further into the dark
place meant for it. The tears stopped and the alcohol began to dull.
He set his jaw and steeled himself from the memories. Shouldn't let
Fox Mulder get to him like that. Shouldn't give Mulder the
satisfaction of hurting him. Mulder should have thanked him for being
in love. Nobody else could care that much about somebody as 'spooky'
as Mulder. He should have embraced it, instead of pushing it away. He
had no idea what he was losing.
Alex curned his lips into a sad, crooked smile. He threw the empty
bottle agaisnt he wall, relishing the sharp crack of the glass. Pain
was unknown to him now. The phantom limb pains were gone, unregistered
to his brain. The claustrophobia had diminished as well. Tears filled
his eyes once more and flowed steady, but he didn't notice. He felt no
more pain. Only nothing.
FIN
11/12/98