Title: Those Words

Author: Crimsonsenya

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek

Rating: R

Warnings: m/m sex, AU trailer park universe, some angst, unbetaed

Summary: Gasoline smelling love in the trailer park.

AN: Written for Griva and inspired by her beautiful Mulder/Krycek blend that can be found on her site, Strangelove. See the link on intropage.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and FOX, but I doubt the poor man would recognize them.

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They had fistfights ever since Mulder cut the tires of Alex’s motorbike. They had lived on the opposite sides of the trailer park since they were eight years old. Alex’s father had shot his mother with a shotgun, so he lived with her grandma. Mulder’s mama had run away with a truck driver, and his father was drinking himself to death. Alex’s bike was red, and its chrome parts shone in the sunlight. The reason, why Mulder did it, was because Alex kept calling him Fox and Foxy, and he hated the name more than anything else.

They always fought by the trash containers behind the rundown high school, their peers cheering loudly, until the bell rang at the end of the recess. The front of Alex’s shirt was usually splotched red with blood from his broken, bleeding nose. Mulder pulled his denim jacket tight over the shreds of his own shirt, his eyes swollen shut. Sometimes, he spat out a molar when they glared murderously at each other, brushing and rubbing off cigarette butts and pebbles from their jeans, before entering the next class.

One day during the summer, when the high school should have ended for them, lest they both hadn’t dropped out, they had started to fight in a clearing in the forest, where the teenagers used to come to drink and smoke pot. Nobody had paid any attention to their quarrelling anymore. They had rolled in the grass, both guys high, and therefore, horny, and suddenly, Mulder had noticed they both were hard as hell. He had plunged into a kiss. Alex had yanked back Mulder’s hair and flipped him over on his back with a neat trick of pushing his leg between Mulder’s thighs. He had bit down on Mulder’s lips at full force, before ramming his tongue so deep in Mulder’s throat Mulder had seen sparking stars behind his closed eyelids. They had tumbled around and rubbed their crotches furiously, until they had both come into their pants. Right afterwards, Alex had bounced up to his feet and speeded away on his bike, leaving Mulder on the ground, very pissed off and still panting.

Ever since the incident in the forest, their struggles ended up in a literal roll in the hay, and Mulder started to find the fighting part quite frustrating, as Alex didn’t fight him back anymore, not even half-heartedly. Usually, they were high or drunk, or both, like the time when Alex went down on him for the first time, and Mulder thought his head would explode with the roaring rush of adrenaline. When they finally fucked only Mulder was high, because Alex was at work in the garage, fixing cars and motorcycles, and Mulder’s feet had led him there by their own. He was bored to death. The day was too hot to play baseball, and finding a chick to blow him would have taken too much energy. Mulder was spraying himself with the hose when he felt the slide of Alex’s muscles against his wet, naked back. “I want you, Fox,” he rasped. The gas station was empty. The air glowed golden, wrapping them in a surreal cocoon, and Mulder didn’t waste any precious time retorting, but he walked inside the shady garage and dropped on all fours as soon as possible.

Mulder would always remember the smell of motor oil and the scrape of cement against his knees and palms. Alex drove in him fast and deep. He sucked Mulder’s neck and licked his earlobe and made him come twice in a painfully exquisite haze of burn and pleasure. Mulder cursed and begged for more, and it was AlexFoxAlexFoxAlexFuck, until they collapsed down in a shaking tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies. Then Alex kissed him –truly kissed– not just bit or tonguefucked him. Alex’s mouth was both gentle and demanding over Mulder’s lips, and Alex’s hands in Mulder’s hair cradled his head, making him shiver all over again.

And it became that Alex would appear behind Mulder out of the blue, and he would whisper the words “I want you, Fox”, and Mulder would get on his knees, either to suck Alex off or to get his brains fucked out. Mulder had gotten a job too, in a hardware store, and he had started to go out with a red-haired girl called Dana. On Saturday nights, he went to the roadhouse to drink, fight, and –afterwards when they were out of sight– fuck with Alex, who dealt drugs aside his day job. The exhume pipes of Alex’s new black motorbike were as long as the bumper of Mulder’s car, he wore the most expensive leather jackets he could find, and he always smelled like expensive cologne.

Few years had passed since they had dropped high school, when Alex shot a guy, who was jealous over his girlfriend, in a fight outside the bar. Not a beautiful sight, the slumped, sturdy body with a smashed skull. Alex came to Mulder, his wide eyes wild and fierce. It was 3am, Thursday night, and Mulder stood before the screen door of his trailer, his bare feet shuffling in the dew.

“Come with me,” Alex said. There was blood on his white t-shirt, as way back then.

“Where?” Mulder asked, dazed.

“To the city, New York, LA, Chicago, Seattle, wherever you wanna go.”

“Why?”

“I… I… I want you. I… I lo…” Alex stuttered. Mulder burst out in the cruellest laughter of his entire life.

“Alex. What the fuck? I’m no queer. It was sex, Alex. Fucking great sex, but nothing else. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m staying here. Me and Dana, we’re going to get married.”

Alex stared at him; his face was a white sheet in the dim glow of the bare light bulb above the screen door. His dark, shadowed eye sockets seemed like two black holes in his prominent, beautiful face. Something in Mulder’s throat constricted, but still, he said,

“If you’re in trouble, it’s not my problem. Just fuck off, and don’t bother me anymore.” Mulder turned his back and stepped inside. It was the last time he saw Alex.

Mulder got married with Dana. He got two, three daughters. He cheated on his wife with a dark haired waitress called Diane and with a blond, long-legged hairdresser called Marita. Mulder worked in the hardware store, and after ten years he became a partner. Every day when he drove past the filling station on his way to work, he remembered a dark young man, whose eyes gleamed green with lust, and whose body against his had felt like the only right thing in the twisted, unfair world they lived in. Nobody else ever breathed the thrilling words “I want you, Fox” in his ear, nobody else ever made him orgasm so hard he forgot his own name, nobody else ever made him come without even touching his cock. The highway stretched out beyond the horizon, right through the red and gold sunset, and Mulder saw a small black dot moving forward in the distance, and for a moment, hope leaped in his chest. The driver would come close and stop the bike, and a smugly smirking man would approach him with feline grace, and Mulder would open his mouth and say what he whispered every time he came alone, “I want you, Alex”. But Mulder squinted, and the dark spot in the horizon vanished along his bitter dreams.