Title: Babe
Author: eggplant goatgirl47@yahoo.com
Pairing: M/O, M/Sk, M/Sc friendship
Category: Angst of course
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Post-Closure, although there's no mention of
that idiotic starlight crap
Warning: domestic abuse
Feedback: It is my oxygen.
Summary: If losing a little freedom was the price
Mulder had to pay for being cared for and doted over,
he was willing to give up some freedom. Freedom was
all he'd had when no one gave a shit about him, and it
was definitely overrated.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Babe, I want you to come home straight after
work," Ethan breathed in Mulder's ear as he was
leaving. He pulled Mulder towards him, a firm hand on
his ass. "I missed you when you were away." Mulder had
returned the previous night from an out-of-town case. 
He didn't know what to think sometimes when Ethan
held him like that, talked to him like that. On the
one hand, it felt good to have someone treat him so
proprietarily; he felt protected. On the other hand,
he'd never liked anyone to tell him what to do.
Somehow it was different with Ethan though. Mulder
wanted to please him for some reason. "I missed you
too," Mulder whispered against Ethan's neck. He had
nice aftershave.
"What time will you get off work?" Ethan asked,
still holding him tight.
"I don't know. Six I guess. Sometimes things come
up though," Mulder said, trying to pull away a bit. He
needed to get to work.
"Well, call it a day at five thirty today," Ethan
said in a tone that allowed no negotiation. "I want
you home by six." He loosened his grip again so he
could look Mulder in the eye. Ethan's eyes were a deep
blue. Mulder had never seen anything like them, not
even on Scully. The eyes were what first attracted him
when they met in a bar two months earlier. They'd been
hot and heavy ever since, and Ethan had been spending
nights at Mulder's apartment for about a month now,
except while Mulder was away on a case.
Mulder melted under Ethan's gaze. "Ok, Ethan," he
promised shyly, lowering his eyes, unable to bear the
intensity of that gaze without feeling the urge to get
on his knees and get into Ethan's pants. There would
be time for that later.
"That's a good boy," Ethan said, kissing him
sweetly on the lips before releasing him out the door.
The psychologist in Mulder warned him that it was
unhealthy for his lover to talk to him as if he were a
child, or a pet, but as he drove to the office, that
kiss lingered on his lips, and he convinced himself
that there was nothing wrong with Ethan telling him he
was a good boy, and nothing wrong with the fact that
he liked it. Ever since his mother died and he found
out that Samantha had been dead for years, he had
decided that he wouldn't think so much, that he
wouldn't waste time worrying about consequences in his
personal life. Life was too short, and he deserved to
have a relationship, and not to turn everything over
in his head so much. 
Although he'd never been in a long-term
relationship with a man before, he had experimented
when he was younger at Oxford, and lately had been
thinking more about the possibility. God knows, the
two serious relationships he'd had with women hadn't
worked out. He'd been turned on by Skinner for a long
time, but he wasn't crazy enough to pursue a
relationship with his boss who would most likely kill
him if he made a pass. Instead, he found himself in a
gay bar gazing into the deep blue eyes of a six-foot
four hunk of manhood who bought him a drink and
kneaded his shoulder with a big, firm hand. Ethan was
strong and sexy, and smart too-a corporate lawyer. And
when he fucked Mulder later that night in his
apartment, he carefully prepared him after Mulder
confessed that he'd never had anal sex, and soothed
him the whole time, making it an incredible
experience. Mulder was smitten.
He hadn't told Scully about Ethan yet, although
she knew from the occasional hickey he couldn't hide
with his collar, and from the shorter hours he was
keeping, that something was going on. She teased him,
but he had remained coy about it. He wondered if the
fact that he was seeing a man would bother her.
Despite her Catholicism, he knew she was liberal in
her social views. Still, he thought she would probably
be pretty shocked. He didn't think he'd ever given her
any clues that he liked men, but he'd given her plenty
of clues that he liked women. He decided he'd tell her
today. Another vow he'd made to himself after losing
the remainder of his family was that he wouldn't keep
secrets like his parents had. He was sick of secrets.
Later that day as they sat at their desks
munching on sandwiches, Mulder brought it up. "Scully,
um, you know I've been seeing someone right?" he
asked, staring at his food.
Scully smiled. "Judging by the love bites you've
been sporting lately, I was wondering if you'd been
hanging out with vampires."
Mulder blushed, thinking about the encounter with
Kristen Kilar that he had never told Scully about.
"Uh, no," he hesitated, thinking of how to say what he
wanted to. "But there's something else."
"Beastwoman? Flukewoman? Mothwoman?" Scully
asked, her smile broadening. When Mulder didn't smile
back, Scully lowered her sandwich and lost her smile.
"I'm sorry Mulder. I was just joking. What is it?"
"I'm not seeing any kind of woman," Mulder said,
this time smiling a little himself.
Scully looked confused for about ten seconds, and
then looked surprised. Not shocked, but surprised. "A
man?" she asked tentatively.
"Uh huh," Mulder affirmed. "Does that bother
you?"
Another ten seconds of silence and then Scully
seemed to find her voice. "Uh, no Mulder. I just
didn't suspect that." she trailed off.
"I liked guys?" Mulder finished for her.
"Well, yeah," Scully confirmed. "I mean you never
mentioned anything, and I knew about Diana and Phoebe.
You were practically drooling on that Bambi woman. I
just never thought." she trailed off again.
"Well, it's not like we sit around and talk about
our sexual preferences," Mulder explained. "I guess
I've always been bi, but my few longer-term
relationships have been with women. There's no reason
you should have known."
"I guess not," she agreed, still looking a bit
out of sorts.
"You're sure it doesn't bother you?" Mulder
asked.
"N-no," Scully assured him. "It just takes a
little getting used to. What's he like?"
"Tall, dark and handsome," Mulder started,
relieved to be able to talk about Ethan with someone
finally. "His name's Ethan and he's a lawyer. I think
you'd like him."
"I think I'm jealous," Scully admitted. "How come
I don't meet any tall, dark, handsome lawyers?"
"You have to go to places other than work and
your apartment to meet people, Scully," Mulder said.
Scully raised an eyebrow. "Since when are you
such a social butterfly?" she asked.
"One night is all it takes," Mulder said,
smiling. It was such a relief to have it all out in
the open.

That night, he made it home at 7:00. He'd tried
to get out of the office by 6:00, but he had to have a
report on Skinner's desk before he left, and he didn't
finish until about 6:30. He didn't know why he felt so
nervous. Ethan couldn't be too upset that he was a
half-hour later than they had agreed.
Ethan was all over him the moment he set foot in
the apartment. A powerful tongue thrust into his
mouth. One big hand held his head firmly by the hair,
while the other wedged itself past his belt into the
back of his pants to grab his bare ass. Mulder dropped
his briefcase to the floor, a rush of blood surging
from his lips and ass through his whole body and
centering at his groin. He could feel Ethan's
impressive erection just above his own. Ethan pulled
out of the kiss just as Mulder thought he'd pass out
from lack of oxygen, but didn't let Mulder go.
Instead, he moved the hand on Mulder's ass to the
front of his pants and quickly undid his belt, button
and zipper, and tugged his pants and underwear down to
his knees. Mulder clung to Ethan's shoulders to steady
himself, but didn't resist. "I made dinner, but I want
to fuck you first," Ethan rasped in the low, sexy
voice Mulder couldn't resist. Still fully dressed
himself, he quickly divested Mulder of all his clothes
and led him over to the couch. He positioned him over
the arm of the couch so his face and chest were
pressed into the leather cushions, his feet barely
touching the floor.
Mulder stayed quietly in position, listening to
Ethan unbuckling his belt and uncapping the lube
behind him. He felt a couple of slick, blunt fingers
nudging at his asshole and tried to relax for the
penetration. "That's it, Babe, loosen up for me,"
Ethan urged, pressing one and then two fingers into
the small opening, and then scissoring them to widen
the passage. This had become a lot easier since the
first time, especially because Ethan fucked him almost
every night they were together, occasionally more than
once a night. Ethan and virility were synonymous. But
it still burned a little, and Ethan had been taking
less preparation time lately. Even when Mulder felt
Ethan's hard cock pop past his sphincter, the pleasure
overrode the pain though, and his erection was still
rock-hard. The fact that he could feel that Ethan was
still wearing all his clothes made it even hotter.
Mulder grunted quietly into the cushion while
Ethan pumped harder and harder behind him. He held
tightly onto Mulder's hips as he thrust, angling his
cock against Mulder's prostate over and over, sending
sparks shooting behind Mulder's closed eyelids. "You
are so fucking hot, Babe," Ethan groaned from behind,
panting. "You've got the sweetest, tightest ass, and
it's all mine," he declared on a particularly deep
thrust that almost lifted Mulder's feet off the floor.
"I'm gonna come in your tight little pussy."
It bothered Mulder at first that Ethan called his
asshole his "pussy," but he'd grown used to Ethan's
fairly nasty talk during sex. Despite his prudishness
during the first few weeks of their relationship, he
started to enjoy the dirty talk, even though he
himself didn't say much during sex. Although he'd
always been a talker both inside and outside of the
bedroom, with Ethan he found that he was happy that he
didn't have to do much talking. Ethan didn't seem to
mind if he was quiet a lot of the time they spent
together.
The large man reached down with one hand and
began to stroke Mulder's cock with the same rhythm he
used to thrust into his ass. "Come for me, Babe," he
whispered, the pumping of his fist getting faster and
rougher. Mulder was close, and he could feel Ethan's
balls pulling up too. Finally, he felt his orgasm
build and explode, felt the stickiness between his
chest and the leather of the couch. Ethan followed a
moment later, sending a burst of warm fluid into
Mulder's bowels. A week after they first met, Ethan
had insisted they both get tested for HIV so he could
"ride bareback." Mulder had to admit that he preferred
to feel Ethan's orgasm rushing through him to using a
condom, even if it was messier.
Ethan draped himself over Mulder's back,
breathing hard for a few minutes, his softening cock
still inside him. Just when Mulder started to feel
uncomfortable with Ethan's weight pressing him into
the couch, Ethan pulled out and stood up behind him.
"Stay there, beautiful," he said, running a hand over
Mulder's sweaty back and ass, before retreating to the
bathroom. A few minutes later he came back and helped
Mulder up, wiping the mess from between his legs with
a warm washcloth, and then cleaning the come off the
couch. Ethan was still fully dressed and had tucked
himself back into his pants, presumably after cleaning
himself off in the bathroom.
"I love watching my come run out of your ass
after we fuck," he said, pulling Mulder to sit beside
him on the couch.
"How romantic," Mulder mumbled sarcastically.
Although he sometimes made little responses like this
to Ethan's more off-color remarks, he never really
protested because he actually thought the remarks were
a turn-on. 
As if reading his mind, Ethan said, "You love my
filthy mouth," and with that he latched his filthy
mouth onto Mulder's, giving him a long, probing kiss.
He ran his hands over Mulder's naked body, paying
special attention to his nipples, while he ravaged his
mouth. Mulder often found himself completely naked
with a clothed Ethan, another thing he was starting to
find incredibly arousing.
Ethan finally broke their kissing and pulled
Mulder's chin up so they were eye to eye. "Why were
you late, Babe?"
"It was only a half hour," Mulder said. "I had to
finish something before I left."
"But you promised," Ethan said. If his expression
hadn't been so serious, Mulder would have laughed.
"I tried Ethan," Mulder said. "I'm sorry." He did
now feel a little guilty for making Ethan wait. After
that reception, he guessed that Ethan was probably
pretty eager for him to get home.
"Well try harder next time," Ethan said and left
it at that. "I've got lasagna in the oven."
Mulder started to head for the bedroom, but Ethan
grabbed his wrist. "It's going to get cold."
Mulder chuckled. "I'm just going to throw some
clothes on."
Ethan held fast. "I want you to stay like that. I
like to look at you."
"I'll be cold," Mulder protested as Ethan led him
toward the kitchen.
"I'll keep my baby warm," Ethan insisted. And he
did keep him warm, holding Mulder on his lap while
they ate. Mulder felt silly at first, especially when
Ethan insisted on feeding him, but it started to feel
incredibly good when Ethan put dabs of tomato sauce on
Mulder's nipples and sucked it off. Between bites of
lasagna, Mulder nuzzled and licked at Ethan's neck and
sucked on his tongue. Although he was a little over
six feet tall, Ethan was a few inches taller and much
broader, and balanced Mulder easily on his lap. By the
time they had finished their dinner, both of them were
hard again.
"God, you're beautiful," Ethan breathed against
Mulder's heated skin.
"You're not so bad yourself," Mulder mumbled
before arching against Ethan's tongue on his nipple.
Ethan looked up at his face. "Promise me you'll
come home when you're supposed to next time," he said
earnestly, tightening his grip around Mulder's waist.
Mulder, panting and sweating with arousal at this
point, would have promised anything. Without thinking
of what he was saying, he said, "I promise. Sorry I
was bad."
"You were bad," Ethan agreed before diving in for
another deep, prolonged kiss. He rubbed his palm
against Mulder's erection while saying, "I should give
you a spanking."
Mulder chuckled as he ran his fingers through the
chest hairs exposed by Ethan's open shirt. One of the
things he loved about Ethan's body was his
well-developed, hairy chest.
"Ever been spanked?" Ethan asked, his hand still
gently stroking Mulder's cock.
"Seriously?" Mulder laughed.
"Yeah. Have you?"
"You mean as an adult?" Mulder felt his erection
flagging as a memory of his father beating his bare
butt with a belt flashed in his mind. The image left
his brain when Ethan's caresses became more insistent.
"Yeah," Ethan said, "y'know, as a kinky thing."
"I guess it's not my kink," Mulder said.
"How do you know if you haven't tried it?" Ethan
asked, pulling Mulder tighter onto his lap, against
his chest.
"You want to spank me?" Mulder asked, stiffening
in Ethan's arms, but not resisting his hold.
"I'll make it really hot for you," Ethan said,
rubbing his hand in soothing circles over Mulder's
back. "I won't really hurt you."
"I don't know." Mulder pressed his face into
Ethan's warm neck, seeking to calm his anxiety. He
didn't really want a spanking, but he wanted to please
Ethan.
"You won't know unless you try," Ethan insisted,
stroking Mulder's hair. "Come on baby, lay across my
lap."
With that it was decided and he positioned Mulder
across his lap, his genitals hanging free between
Ethan's thighs. Mulder's erection was almost
completely gone, but it sprung to life again as Ethan
caressed his raised buttocks, pulled them apart and
gently stroked his perineum and puckered anus with one
finger. Mulder groaned and pushed his ass up into the
touch, clinging to Ethan's leg to keep himself steady.
"Like that, Baby?" Ethan said, increasing the
pressure.
"Mmm," Mulder moaned.
"You were a bad boy today, weren't you?" Ethan
asked, slowly inserting a finger into Mulder's ass,
which was still slick inside from their earlier
activities.
"Uh huh," Mulder mumbled, not even sure what he
was agreeing to.
"I have to spank my bad boy, don't I?" Ethan
asked, stroking his fingertip lightly across Mulder's
prostate.
"Oh God," Mulder gasped.
"Don't I?" Ethan repeated.
"Uh huh," Mulder agreed.
With Mulder's agreement, Ethan removed his finger
and rained a series of hard smacks down onto his ass.
The sting of the spanking stunned Mulder. It hurt, but
he still tingled inside from the probing finger. Just
as he was about to wriggle off of Ethan's lap, the
spanking stopped, and the finger was stroking his
prostate again. The exquisite electricity radiating
from his prostate melded with the heat suffusing his
buttocks, creating an overwhelming feeling of warmth.
He heard steady moaning and realized it was coming
from his own throat.
Ethan repeated the spanking three more times,
giving about thirty stinging slaps each time, and each
time alternating it with a gentle finger fucking.
Mulder's backside was on fire, and his face felt wet
with tears, but he was in ecstasy as well. He'd never
felt anything like it. He barely registered Ethan
practically carrying him into the bedroom and laying
him on his back on the bed. Before he realized what
was happening, Ethan had wedged a couple of pillows
beneath his hips and was fucking him hard. Ethan
placed Mulder's ankles on his shoulders, and held his
wrists firmly beside his head while he pounded into
him. Mulder felt almost numb, but still received
Ethan's tongue hungrily as he fucked his mouth with it
in time with the cock ramming into his ass. He knew he
was coming, but there was a moment of blackness, and
when he opened his eyes, Ethan was already pulling
out, a huge grin on his face.
"You blacked out, Babe," Ethan told him proudly
as he rose from the bed and headed towards the
bathroom. Mulder didn't even remember him getting
undressed, but Ethan was gloriously naked. The man was
built like a gladiator. When he returned to the
bedside and started wiping Mulder down, he asked,
"Some punishment, huh?"
Although the feeling was returning to Mulder's
body, and he started to notice the ache inside and
outside of his backside, he smiled and said, "Yeah."
It was all he managed to say before slipping into a
deep sleep. 

It was hard to sit for very long the next day.
Mulder couldn't believe how raw and bruised his ass
felt. He didn't realize the spanking had been that
hard, but when he looked at his backside in the
full-length bathroom mirror the next day, he saw that
not only did it look like he had a sunburn on his ass,
but the skin was also streaked with numerous bruises.
Ethan had rubbed it with lotion for him and
apologized, saying he hadn't realized how hard the
spanking was. "You must bruise easily," he remarked
before giving Mulder a sweet kiss. "Sometimes you have
to endure a little pain for intense pleasure."
"I guess so," Mulder agreed with a shy smile,
remembering what was indeed intense pleasure from the
night before.

"Mulder, what's wrong with you?" Scully asked
after he stood up and paced the office for the
umpteenth time.
"Huh?" he answered intelligently.
"You're making me nervous. Can't you sit down for
five minutes at a time?" she asked.
"Sorry Scully," he said before gingerly sitting
down behind his desk, trying not to show how much it
pained him. Scully didn't miss his slight wince
though. Her expression changed from annoyance to
concern.
"Mulder," she asked. "Is everything ok? Are you
in pain?"
"I'm fine Scully," he assured her, but his
squirming in his seat didn't convince her.
Scully surmised that he must have some
embarrassing ailment such as hemorrhoids or jock itch.
"Have you been to the doctor, Mulder?" she asked.
"What for?" Mulder huffed, standing up again to
resume his pacing.
"To look at whatever is preventing you from
sitting still for more than a few minutes." 
"I'm just a little restless," Mulder claimed,
although he knew he wasn't fooling her.
"Ok," she said, backing off. "I'm just trying to
help."
The phone on Mulder's desk rang, saving him from
answering her. 
"Hey Babe." It was Ethan. Mulder had told him
that it was safe to call him at the office since he
had told Scully about them.
"Hi Ethan," Mulder answered, forgetting about the
aching and burning of his ass. Just the sound of
Ethan's deep voice was enough to make the blood rush
to his groin. "What's up?"
"Just thinking about my sweet baby," Ethan
practically purred into the phone. Mulder smiled,
thinking of how gentle Ethan had been that morning,
tenderly washing him in the shower, and then rubbing
soothing lotion onto his sore behind, all the while
showering him with kisses and words of adoration.
Mulder whispered into the phone so Scully
wouldn't hear. "I've been thinking about you too."
"We're having dinner tonight at Mario's." Mario's
was Ethan's favorite restaurant. One of the benefits
of dating a lawyer was that Mulder could eat out at
expensive restaurants all the time. "Bring your
partner along."
"Really?" Mulder wasn't sure why it surprised him
that Ethan wanted to meet Scully, but it did. He
hadn't thought of introducing them yet for some
reason, even though he did think Scully would like
Ethan.
"Yeah," Ethan answered, a smile in his voice.
"You spend all day with an attractive woman and you
think I don't want to meet her?"
Mulder smiled himself. "I'll ask her then," he
said, glancing over at Scully who was trying to act as
if she wasn't listening.
"See you at the restaurant at 7:00," Ethan said,
and then in a sexy whisper, "Can't wait to see you,
Babe."
"Me too Ethan," Mulder said quietly, his back to
Scully, before hanging up. He'd almost said, "I love
you," before catching himself. It was definitely too
early for that, but sometimes he thought Ethan might
be the one. No one had ever paid so much attention to
him or complimented him so much. He felt as if he was
the center of Ethan's world, and Ethan was starting to
feel like the center of his world. Both Phoebe and
Diana had treated him as if he were secondary to some
other agenda when they were together, and seemed to
want him to compliment them all the time. More and
more he was beginning to think that he was meant to be
with a man all along.

At dinner, Scully seemed completely charmed by
Ethan. He talked about a few of his more interesting
cases, and Scully shared edited versions of some of
their more amusing ones. Ethan raised a disbelieving
eyebrow of some of her accounts of vampires and giant
mushrooms, but laughed and squeezed Mulder's knee
affectionately under the table a few times. 
When Ethan excused himself to go to the restroom,
Scully smiled teasingly at Mulder. "Quite a catch,
Mulder," she said. "Tall, dark, handsome, smart. you
were right. I really am jealous now."
Mulder glowed with pride. "Glad you approve,
Agent Scully."
Scully's expression changed suddenly to one of
confusion. "Don't you ever tell him about work? He
seemed really surprised by those stories, almost like
he doesn't know what you do."
"He knows what I do," Mulder protested, feeling
defensive all of a sudden. "I just don't like to talk
shop all the time like you do."
"But Mulder," Scully pressed, "your work is such
a big part of your life. How could you never talk
about it?"
"Well, maybe I don't want it to be such a big
part of my life anymore," Mulder answered, trying not
to raise his voice.
"Ok, ok," Scully said, backing off, "I just
thought it was a little odd."
"Well it's not." Mulder's retort sounded pretty
childish after he'd said it, but by that time Ethan
was heading back towards the table and he couldn't add
any more. Ethan looked at him, concerned, sensing that
something was wrong, but didn't say anything. Instead,
he turned on the charm again and they finished their
meal without further incident.

"If talking with your partner upsets you, maybe
you should spend less time with her," Ethan suggested
in the car on the way home, one hand on the wheel, the
other stroking the back of Mulder's neck.
"What?" Mulder blurted, startled by the idea that
Scully would be harmful in some way. "She's my best
friend"
Ethan started to knead the back of his neck,
soothing tense muscles. Mulder relaxed into his touch.
"It's just that you spend all day with her at work,
and work seems to stress you out."
"It's not like that," Mulder tried to explain,
but he couldn't put into words why it wasn't like
that. Ever since Scully had brought it up at dinner
he'd been thinking about why he never talked to Ethan
about his work. Mostly it was because Ethan never
asked him about it. Scully would probably think that
was "odd" too, but he actually liked it that way.
Thinking about work did stress him out. Even though
most of their cases fascinated him, too much of his
work was so wrapped up in the more unpleasant aspects
of his personal history. He really did want his work
to be a smaller part of his life. Of course he loved
Scully; they'd been through so much together. But
maybe Ethan was right. Maybe he should spend less time
with her. Despite being his best friend, she was also
a constant reminder of a lot of painful memories.
"I just care about you, Babe," Ethan continued.
"I don't like to see you hurting."
Mulder leaned back into Ethan's strong fingers.
He turned his head and kissed his palm. "Thanks,
Ethan. Maybe you're right."

As the weeks progressed, their sex seemed to be
getting more and more intense. There were more
spankings, even though Mulder didn't really like them.
They were worth the sex that followed, however. Mulder
confessed to Ethan one night that he occasionally used
to choke himself a little while masturbating. Ethan
obliged him, although he put a little more pressure on
his throat than Mulder used to do to himself. Enough
pressure to cause him to black out for over five
minutes one night, and to leave some pretty deep
bruising around his neck. Luckily Ethan had gripped
him low enough for his collar to hide the bruising,
but his voice was raspy enough the next day for Scully
to ask him if he was coming down with something. Ethan
also fucked him so hard that on several occasions he
had bled a little. 
But Mulder's orgasms were also the most intense
he had ever experienced. He had never imagined that an
orgasm could feel like an out of body experience. He
now realized why they were known as "le petit mort."
And Ethan always took care of any aches and pains that
resulted from their lovemaking. He applied whatever
lotion or ointment would make him feel better and
would shower him with tender caresses and kisses,
making him feel adored. Mulder figured not being able
to sit comfortably most days and a few other aches and
pains were worth the incredible orgasms and the
adoration.
On their six month anniversary Ethan took Mulder
to a secluded bed and breakfast in Virginia. They had
a romantic candlelight dinner in the inn's elegant
dining room, danced to slow music up in their room,
and then Ethan slowly introduced Mulder to the
pleasures of fisting. Ethan spent considerable time
stretching Mulder out, but still, when Ethan's entire
hand finally passed Mulder's sphincter it felt as if
he was splitting in half. He couldn't help crying and
squirming, but Ethan held him tight and whispered
soothing words. "You are so gorgeous baby," he said as
he kept his fist still in Mulder's rectum, waiting for
him to adjust to the pain and start experiencing the
pleasure. "Ssh, babe, just relax. Breathe deep."
Mulder tried to breathe deeply and relax,
pressing his tear-streaked face into the pillow. He
couldn't believe how painful the penetration had been.
Ethan's fist was at least three times the width of his
cock, and his cock was pretty damn big. Ethan took it
slowly, though, holding his fist still inside of
Mulder until the intense pain became a steady aching
burn which was mild in comparison. As Ethan began to
slowly twist his wrist, repeatedly kneading his
prostate, Mulder actually found himself moaning in
pleasure and fully erect despite the pain.
"Oh, Babe, you are so hot and tight," Ethan
panted behind him before bending his head to lick the
sweat from Mulder's back. " I wish you could see how
hot this looks. I'm so far inside you."
Mulder was too lost in pain and pleasure to
respond with anything but incoherent grunts and moans.
"Come for me baby," Ethan encouraged. "I want to
feel you contract around my fist."
With a few punches against Mulder's prostate, he
came explosively with a scream. Through his
post-orgasm haze he felt Ethan slowly ease his fist
out of his stretched rectum. He felt incredibly empty
for a moment, but soon he felt Ethan's strong hands,
slimy with lube, gripping his waist. Although he was
barely conscious, he felt Ethan's hard cock slide into
him, his balls slapping against his ass as his lover
rode him hard. Mulder's entire lower half felt numb at
this point, and Ethan's cock had about as much effect
on him as a toothpick would have. He felt himself
drift into darkness as Ethan came inside him.
He awoke to the dawn light streaking through the
curtains. The bedside clock said 6:10, and Ethan's arm
was heavy around his waist. His ass hurt. It hurt a
lot, worse than after the hardest fucks Ethan had ever
given him. It was more than the usual throbbing. There
was a sharp burning that didn't feel right at all. He
squirmed to try to get some relief, but there was none
to be found. After struggling for a few minutes
against the tears that pooled in his eyes, he finally
tried to wake Ethan. "Ethan," he said, finding his
voice sounded unusually quiet and raspy. He elbowed
Ethan and called his name until his lover stirred.
"Huh? Whazzit, Babe?" Ethan mumbled into his
hair.
"Something's wrong," he said as loudly as he
could, finally losing his battle against his tears. 
"What?" Ethan asked, more fully awake and getting
up to look at Mulder. "What's the matter.oh shit," he
broke off.
"Ethan, it hurts. Something's wrong."
Mulder felt Ethan move off the bed. "Babe," he
said as he presumably went towards the bathroom, which
was behind Mulder's back, "just lie still. You're
still bleeding."
He returned quickly and started to wipe Mulder's
backside with a wet towel.
Mulder started to feel as if he were going to
throw up. For the first time since he had awoken he
realized he was cold and sweaty. "It hurts," he moaned
weakly, not even trying to hold back his tears
anymore.
"Ok Babe," Ethan soothed, "It's going to be ok."
The fact that Ethan sounded scared frightened
Mulder even more. After wiping at Mulder's behind for
a while, Ethan finally gave up. "Babe, I've got to
take you to the hospital."
"No!" Mulder immediately protested. Despite
feeling fainter and fainter, he suddenly had
completely clear visions of the embarrassment he would
have to endure at a hospital. And what if they found
out about this at work?
As if reading his mind, Ethan said, "We're in
rural Virginia, Fox. No one will know you here. It
won't get back to the FBI."
Mulder was vaguely aware of Ethan talking on the
phone, asking for directions to the hospital. At least
he wasn't calling for an ambulance. He didn't have the
strength to protest as Ethan wrestled him into some
clothes and helped him outside to the car. Apparently
he had told the desk clerk that he had appendicitis or
something, because the woman was babbling something
about having an appendectomy herself as she held the
door for them.

It turned out that Mulder had a tear in the wall
of his rectum which required stitches to stop the
bleeding. Since they had gotten to the hospital so
early in the morning, he didn't end up having to stay
overnight. The worst part of the whole ordeal wasn't
the medical procedure, since Mulder was pretty snowed
on painkillers during that; it was the lecture from
the doctor on safe sex practices which he received
before leaving the hospital. Ethan had been right
though. There was no reason anyone at the FBI had to
know about their little mishap. He stayed home from
work the whole next week saying he had the stomach
flu. 
Ethan had apologized profusely and pampered him
while he recovered. He took a few days off of work,
made Mulder all of his meals, and helped bathe him. He
even stood beside the toilet and held his hand and
soothed him while he had his first painful bowel
movement. The only sex they had was gentle fondling
and blowjobs courtesy of Ethan. When Mulder tried to
touch him, Ethan pushed his hands away, telling him to
just relax and enjoy, that he would take care of him.
By the next weekend, Mulder almost felt back to
normal, the pain down to a dull throb which only
flared up when he went to the bathroom. During his
entire recovery, Ethan had made him feel so special
and loved that Mulder couldn't imagine life without
him anymore. For the first time in his life, Mulder
felt like he wanted to spend the rest of his life with
someone.

A couple of weeks after Mulder had returned to
work following his "stomach virus," Scully asked
Mulder if he wanted to go to dinner some night.
"It's been a long time since we just hung out,
Mulder," she said during a calm moment in the office
after they'd wrapped up their latest case. "You pick
the time and place."
Mulder hesitated. Although such a thought would
have been absurd to him before he was with Ethan, his
first thought was that he'd better ask Ethan if it
would be ok to go out with Scully one night. He almost
blurted the thought out loud, but then realized how
odd it would sound to Scully. She wouldn't understand
the kind of relationship he and Ethan had, that Ethan
might seem over-protective at times, but that Mulder
liked to feel protected. Instead he said, "Let me
check if Ethan has anything planned for this week
before I give you a time."
"Okay," she answered with a sarcastic smile. "Let
me know when you can pencil me into your busy social
calendar."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Mulder countered,
although he knew what she was getting at. They used to
hang out quite frequently, but since the night months
ago when she had gone out to dinner with him and
Ethan, they hadn't seen each other outside of work
once.
"I just miss you, Mulder," she said, her voice
softening a little. "I know you're happy with Ethan,
but can't you see friends once in a while? I talked to
Frohike yesterday and he said he hasn't seen or talked
to you in months even though he's left a few messages
for you."
Mulder did feel badly about that, but didn't
Scully understand that things would change when one of
them got into a serious relationship? He was starting
to think that maybe Scully was more than a little
jealous. "Scully, I'm in love," he said. It was the
first time he had admitted this to anyone but Ethan,
and it felt good.
"It's wonderful to hear you say that, Mulder,"
and she did sound sincere, "but does that mean you can
never spend any time with your friends again?"
"I said I just had to check if Ethan has anything
planned," Mulder answered defensively. "You and I can
go out to dinner sometime this week, but when you're
in a relationship you can't just plan things without
consulting each other." In the back of his mind,
Mulder thought of all the times Ethan came home late
from drinking with his lawyer buddies or disappeared
for entire Saturdays playing golf without mentioning
it at all. Mulder would wait at home, spending his
time catching up on files, reading, or tidying up the
apartment. He told himself he didn't mind though. He
trusted Ethan, and he knew that Ethan was only
protective of him. He'd come to terms with the fact
that Ethan was the more dominant partner in their
relationship, and that this meant Ethan had more
freedom than he did. If losing a little freedom was
the price Mulder had to pay for being cared for and
doted over, he was willing to give up some freedom.
Freedom was all he'd had when no one gave a shit about
him, and it was definitely overrated. 

Mulder finally got up the courage that night to
ask Ethan if he could go out with Scully one night,
and it didn't go well.
"Are you fucking her?" he demanded, grabbing
Mulder by the wrists.
"What? No, of course not!" Mulder insisted,
struggling a little until he realized Ethan was only
gripping him tighter. He could have tried his Quantico
defense moves, but this was Ethan, not some mugger.
"That little bitch," Ethan continued, ignoring
Mulder's protests, "I knew from the way she was
looking at you that she wanted you."
"Don't call her that," Mulder said feebly.
Ethan released his wrists and slapped him hard
across the face, sending him falling backwards onto
the couch. "Don't you dare talk back to me, slut," he
said in a low, menacing tone, pointing his finger at
Mulder. Mulder started to cry a little, but didn't say
anything or move, frozen by the slap and Ethan's angry
words. Even when Ethan began to remove the belt from
his pants, Mulder didn't budge. "Stop sniveling and
take your pants down," Ethan commanded, and Mulder was
suddenly transported back to his childhood, his father
saying almost the exact same words. He couldn't move,
couldn't speak.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, slut? Get.
Your. Pants. Down." More infuriated when Mulder still
didn't move and just stared at him with glazed,
terrified eyes, Ethan roughly grabbed him, unbuttoned
and unzipped his pants, turned him on his stomach on
the couch and yanked his pants and underwear down to
his ankles. Mulder barely registered the beating. He
knew the belt was hitting his bare backside over and
over, he knew it hurt and that he was crying, he knew
Ethan was raining angry words down on him with every
blow of the belt, but it all felt far away, like it
was happening to someone else.
At some point the beating was over and Ethan was
pulling off the rest of his clothes and turning him on
his back. Mulder lay naked and dazed, watching Ethan
remove his own clothes. His face was wet, his nose
stuffed, but he didn't make a sound. "I'm sorry I had
to punish you, Babe," Ethan said, "but I can't
tolerate you fucking around with anyone else." He
punctuated the statement by pushing Mulder's knees up
against his chest. "Hold your knees and open up for me
Babe. Let go and I'll spank you again." Mulder
complied, even though he was tired and his backside
was sore and he didn't want to have sex.
Ethan licked a finger and pushed it into Mulder,
soon adding another. "You're mine, and I'm not going
to share you with anyone else," Ethan said as he
finger fucked him. "Are you sorry now for fucking that
little bitch?"
Mulder opened his mouth to protest, but Ethan
brought his free hand up and gripped his face
painfully. "Are you sorry?" 
Realizing that defending Scully or himself was
futile, when Ethan released his face, Mulder
whispered, "I'm sorry."
"Good boy," Ethan said before removing his
fingers and pushing his cock in. He didn't use any
lube besides his spit and precome, and it hurt. Mulder
struggled to hold onto his knees while Ethan pounded
into his ass. Despite his pain and discomfort, when
Ethan's cock repeatedly stroked his prostate, Mulder
saw his erection rise. "This is my pussy," Ethan
grunted, speeding up his thrusts. "And my cock," he
said, roughly grabbing Mulder's erect penis for a
moment. "No one else's. You're mine forever." With
that Ethan suddenly pulled his cock out and spurted
his ejaculation onto Mulder's face and chest. "Mine,"
he reiterated, still hovering over Mulder's prone
form.
"Stay like you are and jerk yourself off till you
come, Babe," Ethan said, clearly excited by the idea.
Mulder's erection had deflated somewhat and he
hesitated. He was sore and tired and wanted to take a
shower and then go to bed.
"The belt is still right here, Babe," Ethan
threatened, "Now do as I say."
Mulder began to stroke himself, but was having
trouble getting fully aroused. Ethan helped him out by
sticking a finger up his ass and poking at his
prostate. "Come for me Babe," Ethan said right before
Mulder shot a gob of cum onto his own chest.
Ethan rubbed a hand across Mulder's chest and
belly, mixing Mulder's fresh ejaculate into his own
drying come. "This is where you belong, Babe," he
whispered, before taking Mulder's mouth is a
possessive kiss. "Nowhere else."
Ethan led a shaky Mulder into the bedroom and
pushed him down to the floor at the foot of the bed.
He didn't know what was happening, but was too tired
and confused to resist. He wanted to take a shower,
but instead realized that Ethan was tying his hands
behind his back with something.
"Ethan?" Mulder asked tentatively. "Can I take a
shower?"
"Afraid not, Babe," Ethan answered. "This is part
of your punishment. You're going to spend the night
covered in come, tied to the bed so you remember where
you belong."
Mulder tugged at his wrists and realized that not
only had they been tied together, but to one of the
legs of the bed as well. Mulder tried not to, but
started to cry again.
Ethan stroked his hair lovingly. "Don't cry,
Babe. Tomorrow all will be forgiven. Go to sleep now."
Despite his awkward position, his various aches
and pains, and general humiliation, Mulder fell into
an exhausted sleep.

He awoke to something pulling at his wrists and
tried to get away. "Stay still Babe, I'm just untying
you," Ethan said. Mulder obeyed and soon felt his arms
freed. His arms and shoulders were completely numb.
They rest of his body felt like one big ache. He
rolled slowly onto his back and opened his eyes. Ethan
towered over him, immaculately dressed in his charcoal
Armani suit. "I'm going to work now. I called into
your office and said you were sick. I want you to stay
inside all day and think about how your behavior needs
to change. Do not dare to leave this apartment. Do I
make myself clear?"
Mulder nodded slowly.
"And clean this place up. When I get home
tonight, everything should be spotless, including
yourself, inside and out." Mulder realized that he
reeked of old sweat and come. "Dinner on the table,
too. Got it?"
Mulder nodded again.
Mulder found himself sitting in the tub, his
knees gripped to his chest, cold water cascading over
him from the showerhead. He was painfully cold, but
more disturbing was that he didn't remember getting up
and getting into the shower. The last thing he
remembered was Ethan leaving him on the bedroom floor.
He fumbled with the hot water handle on the tub, but
the water remained frigid. Mulder realized he had
probably been in the shower for a long time, long
enough to run completely out of hot water. He managed
to turn the water off altogether, but getting out of
the tub was a struggle. He was numb and shivering, and
his skin felt waterlogged. He yanked a towel off the
rack and huddled on the bathmat for a while wrapped in
it. 
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there. He might
have dozed off, or maybe just spaced out, but he
realized he wasn't shivering so violently anymore. He
was still cold though, so he went back to the bedroom
and put on his warmest pair of sweats, plus one of
Ethan's extra large sweatshirts on top of that, and
wool socks. As he dressed he noticed the deep bruising
around his wrists, but pushed the image out of his
mind. I'm ok, he told himself. I'm not hurt. He
repeated it in his head like a mantra while he started
to clean up the apartment. He knew that Ethan loved
him, and had a right to question his fidelity. 

Moving mechanically, he cleaned the dried come
and sweat from the livingroom couch. Nothing he hadn't
done before. He scrubbed every surface in the kitchen
and bathroom until they gleamed, and vacuumed the
bedroom and livingroom, even moving furniture to get
at the age old dust bunnies beneath. After doing a
load of laundry and making sure everything in the
apartment was spotless, Mulder didn't know what to do
with himself. He had to keep his mind occupied until
Ethan came home, and he wasn't allowed to leave. TV.
That would help him keep his mind blank. He turned on
ESPN with the volume up loud and curled up in the
corner of the couch wrapped in a blanket. Even with
all the warm clothes and the blanket, he still felt
chilled. Maybe he should eat something, he thought,
but the thought of food made him slightly queasy. For
some reason he felt like he was going to cry, but
focused on the game until his mind was blank. Above
the sound of the TV, he thought he heard knocking, but
ignored it. 

"Mulder!" Startled by the sound of his name,
Mulder suddenly jerked away from someone's grasp on
his arm. Scully was right in front of him, her face
creased with concern. The TV was off. How did Scully
get here? Wasn't the TV on?
"Wha?" was all he could manage to say.
"Mulder, can you hear me?" Scully asked, holding
his arm again.
"Yeah," he said, still confused. "What are you
doing here?"
"I tried calling you to see how you were doing,
but you never answered, so I decided to come over to
check on you. Ethan told personnel you had the flu.
You don't have the flu, do you?" It wasn't a question.
Mulder pulled the blanket more tightly around
himself.
Scully didn't back off, instead lightly touching
his cheek. "Did Ethan do this?" she asked
matter-of-factly.
"Do what?" he asked, pulling back again from her
touch. This time Scully backed off a little.
"Mulder, you have a big bruise on your face. I've
been really concerned about you lately." She sat down
next to him on the couch and turned to face him. "Are
you hurt anywhere else?"
"I'm not hurt." Mulder said in a monotone.
"Mulder," Scully said, softening her tone, "No
one has the right to hit you."
"I'm not hurt," Mulder repeated, trying to keep
the tremor out of his voice.
"Oh Mulder," Scully said sympathetically. She
paused for a moment as if thinking of what to do.
"Mulder, I want you to come to my place," she finally
said decisively as she tried to unwrap him from the
blanket.
"No!" Mulder shouted, startling them both. Scully
had gotten the blanket away, but he pressed himself
back against the couch and wouldn't budge when she
tried to take his hand to pull him up. As he yanked
his hand from hers, the oversized sweatshirt fell away
from his wrist exposing the almost black bruising.
Scully gasped at the sight.
She took a deep breath to calm herself before
speaking reasonably. "Mulder, you can't stay here.
You're going to come to my apartment, and then I'll
help you decide what to do next. It's going to be ok."
Mulder couldn't keep his tears in any longer and
choked out his words. "I can't leave."
"Mulder, I can't leave you here. If you don't
come with me, I'm going to call the police." Scully
didn't think the police could do anything if Mulder
didn't press charges, but she thought the potential
embarrassment would be enough to change Mulder's mind.
When Mulder didn't answer and continued crying,
Scully sat down again beside him and held him for a
while letting him cry. 
"Mulder," she said, releasing him and looking
into his red-rimmed eyes. "I'm going to help you pack
a bag and then we're going to my place. Whatever Ethan
said, he has no right to hit you or to prevent you
from leaving."
Mulder had gotten control over his tears. "You
don't understand," he said.
Scully was becoming frustrated. "Mulder, you're a
psychologist, for God's sake. If you knew anyone else
who were in your situation, you would tell them to get
out of that situation."
Part of Mulder knew that she was right, but
another very powerful part loved Ethan. He knew that
Scully would never understand that though. She didn't
know what it was like to go your whole life without
anyone ever loving you and taking care of you and then
to find someone who completely devoted his attentions
to you. He knew Ethan was overly jealous and
possessive, and he knew Ethan had been out of line
last night, but Scully didn't know the whole story. He
knew she would never understand though, and it didn't
look like she would leave him there alone. He
shuddered to think what would happen if Ethan came
home and found her there though. But what would Ethan
do if he came home and found him gone? Either way,
he'd be in trouble and Scully would be mixed up in it.
He didn't know what to do short of physically throwing
Scully out. It was just like when he was a kid. Any
choice he made was a bad one. He wished he could just
disappear.
Both he and Scully startled when Ethan turned his
key in the lock. Once he entered the apartment, all
three of them stared at one another for a second that
felt to Mulder like an hour. Ethan broke the silence.
"What is she doing here?" he calmly asked Mulder.
Mulder couldn't answer. He huddled back into the
corner of the sofa.
"I think it's best if Mulder stays at my place
for a while," Scully said as if they were having a
normal conversation. "I'll just pack him a bag."
"Get out," Ethan said, still remaining calm.
Mulder felt as if he might stop breathing. He wished
he were anywhere else but in his apartment at that
moment.
"Never mind the bag. Mulder, let's go," Scully
said, turning to Mulder.
Ethan suddenly advanced on her and grabbed her
arm. "He's not going anywhere," he insisted, still not
raising his voice.
"Let go of me." Scully's voice was equally even.
"You fucking bitch," Ethan hissed, "thinking you
can have what's mine." Before Mulder could think of
what was happening, Ethan had his hands around
Scully's throat. He was about three times her size,
and practically lifted her off of the floor by her
neck. Mulder still sat frozen in the corner of the
couch. He felt himself drifting out of the situation,
and then he heard a shot.

"Mulder, are you back with me?" Mulder was
confused. The voice was Scully's, and he saw Scully's
face hovering above him, but everything was different.
She looked more tired all of a sudden, she had bruises
around her neck, and he wasn't sitting on his couch.
He was lying on a bed, and he wasn't in his apartment
anymore. Ethan was nowhere to be seen.
"Wha?" was all he managed to get out before he
realized that his throat was parched and it felt like
his mouth was filled with cotton. He looked around
more and realized he was in a stark white hospital
room, an IV needle taped to the crook of his elbow.
What the hell was going on? He tried to sit up, but he
felt weak and heavy, and Scully stilled his movements
with a hand on his chest.
"Don't try to get up yet Mulder," she said
gently. She helped him drink some water. "Do you
remember what happened?"
Mulder thought about it and was frightened by the
apparent hole in his memory. "No," he croaked.
"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked,
taking his hand in hers. The slow, concerned way she
spoke worried him.
"Where's Ethan?" he asked, suddenly agitated.
Scully started to stroke his hand. "Mulder,
relax. I want you to listen and not get too upset.
You've been in some sort of dissociative state since
yesterday. Do you remember me coming to your
apartment?"
Mulder paused, trying to understand what she was
telling him, before answering, "yes."
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"I don't know. You were telling me to come to
your place. What's going on?"
"You zoned out on me. I couldn't get you to
answer me or respond in any way, so the EMTs took you
to the hospital." She paused. "Mulder, do you remember
Ethan coming home?"
Mulder wanted to push the thought out of his
head, but he did remember Ethan coming home, and he
remembered fighting. It reminded him of the fights his
parents used to have. "Uh, yeah," Mulder said.
"Mulder, Ethan's dead," Scully said, tightening
her hold on his hand. "The doctors couldn't save him."
"What?" This couldn't be real. Then it all came
back to him. Scully had shot Ethan. Scully killed his
lover. He wrenched his hand out of Scully's and pushed
back in the bed. "Get the fuck away from me," he
hissed.
"Mulder, please," Scully pleaded. "He hurt you.
He was going to kill me. It was self-defense. You were
there. You saw."
"I love him!" he yelled. "I loved him and you
killed him. Fuck you! Ethan was right about you, you
jealous bitch. Get the hell away from me!" Mulder was
becoming hysterical, crying and hyperventilating.
Scully backed away from the bed, looking as if
she was going to cry too. "I'll get your doctor," she
said quietly. 
"I loved him," he rasped out, losing his
momentary strength. "He took care of me and you took
him away." He voice tapered off into a quiet sob.
Without another word, she left him alone in the
room.
He didn't know what he was going to do. He just
wanted Ethan to hold him the way he always did when
Mulder was hurt. He longed for those powerful arms to
envelop him and take him away from himself. Scully
would never understand how he felt when Ethan took
charge, how he didn't have to think when Ethan made
the decisions. Sure, his most recent "punishment" was
out of line, but it was only because Ethan had
misunderstood his relationship with Scully. It made
sense that Ethan would think he was cheating on him.
Ethan knew he was bisexual. How many men were such
close friends with women without sleeping with them?
In the back of his mind he knew that Ethan had been
hurting Scully, could very possibly have killed her,
but he didn't want to believe it.
He was so lost in sorrow and confusion that he
didn't even notice that a doctor was standing at his
bedside.
"Mr. Mulder," the middle-aged man said, "I'm Dr.
Richmond. I'm a psychologist." He was big, but more
soft than imposing. He smiled reassuringly.
Mulder noticed for the first time that blood ran
down his own arm, and that it was also splattered all
over the edge of the bed. He had pulled out his IV.
"I'll get a nurse to clean you up," the doctor
said, leaving the room again. The nurse came in and
cleaned him up and silently changed his bedsheets and
gown. She didn't reattach the IV, instead taping a
piece of gauze in the crook of his arm. Before
leaving, she poured him a cup of water and watched him
drink it.
Dr. Richmond returned and moved close to the bed.
"Mr. Mulder, I want to ask you a few questions. Is
that alright?"
Mulder didn't want to answer questions, but he
couldn't muster up the strength to object either. He'd
gotten his crying under control, and now just felt
drained.
The doctor continued without Mulder's consent.
"Do you know what a dissociative state is?"
Mulder cleared his throat. "I have a degree in
psychology from Oxford." He'd meant it to sound
condescending, but instead he just sounded like a
petulant child.
"Dr. Scully told me that," he said, "but I just
wanted to make sure." His tone was so reasonable that
Mulder couldn't think of anything else to say. "Do you
know if you've ever been in dissociative states in the
past when under stress?"
After Samantha disappeared he'd been in the
hospital unresponsive for two weeks, but even before
that he knew he'd had shorter blank periods, usually
when Dad was really mad. That happened more often in
the two years after Sam's disappearance, before his
parents split up and he didn't spend much time with
his dad anymore. "I dunno," was all he said to Dr.
Richmond. 
"Can you remember any times in the past where you
have blank spots in your memory?"
"I guess," he said quietly. He knew if he got
into having his mind wiped by the consortium or having
holes drilled into his head, the doctor would
definitely not allow him to leave.
The doctor jotted down some notes. "Can you tell
me about Ethan Kilborn?" he asked gently.
"He's dead now," Mulder answered, trying to hold
back tears again.
"How would you describe your relationship with
him?"
"He was my lover," Mulder stated emphatically.
"We were in love."
Dr. Richmond jotted some notes on his clipboard.
"Dr. Scully told me he had physically abused you. Is
that true?"
"I loved him," Mulder insisted.
"Did he hurt you?" the doctor pressed. "Was he
responsible for the bruises on your wrists, your face,
and your buttocks?"
Mulder flushed with embarrassment. "You don't
understand." His voice came out whiny, but Mulder
couldn't help it. He'd just learned that Ethan was
dead, had barely believed it was true, and this guy
was grilling him, humiliating him.
"Can you explain it to me?" he asked.
"I deserved it," Mulder tried to explain. Now
that Ethan was gone it seemed doubly important to
defend him. "I hurt him."
"How did you hurt him?"
"It's none of your business." Ordinarily Mulder
would have told this quack where he could shove his
clipboard, but he was so tired. He didn't have any
fight in him.
"Well, because of your dissociative episode," the
doctor continued, unfazed by Mulder's rudeness. "I
need to make sure you're ok before I can let you leave
the hospital. Right now I'm inclined to recommend that
you stay in the hospital for a seventy-two hour
assessment."
"Isn't it enough that my lover is dead? It's
over. Just let me get some sleep so I can get the hell
out of here. Wouldn't you have had a dissociative
episode if you witnessed your partner shooting your
lover? It's perfectly understandable considering the
circumstances, wouldn't you agree, Doctor?"
"I do think it's understandable, but I'm still
concerned about it." The doctor's sensible words only
irritated Mulder further. "I'm also concerned about
your belief that you would deserve to be physically
assaulted."
"It's over. It's all over," Mulder said, turning
his back to the man. He was so tired.
"I'll let you get some rest, and we'll talk again
in the morning, ok?"
Mulder didn't answer.

By the morning, Mulder had decided on his plan of
action. He told the doctor everything he needed to
hear, and when the police came to get his side of the
story about Ethan's death, he told them exactly what
had happened, confirming Scully's story of
self-defense. He portrayed just the right amount of
grief, but also acknowledged to the doctor and the
police that he needed to talk to a therapist. The
doctor finally released him with the understanding
that he would meet with a counselor the next day. As
soon as he left the hospital, he tossed the number of
the therapist that Dr. Richmond had given him into the
trash and hailed a cab. Once he was safe in his
apartment, and saw the faded blood stain in the
carpet, he proceeded to fall apart. 
He stayed inside for the next two weeks. He was
on personal leave from the bureau, and couldn't seem
to bring himself to do anything besides sit around and
miss Ethan. He'd made some canned soup and eaten that
for a few days, but then stopped eating. He spent most
of his time crying or staring blankly at the
television. He'd felt lonely for most of his life
before Ethan, but now he felt as if he were the only
person left on earth. After the way he treated her in
the hospital, even Scully wanted nothing to do with
him. 
After the second week, someone pounded on his
door. It kept going on and on. Why wouldn't they go
away? It wasn't Scully, he could tell. She would have
knocked for only a short time before using her key to
open the door, but since their last encounter he
didn't think she would even come by at all. The
knocking would pause for a short time, and then resume
even more loudly. If it wasn't in the middle of the
day and most of his neighbors were at work or school,
someone surely would have called the police by now. 
Mulder slowly unraveled himself from his blankets
and pushed himself off the couch. His limbs were achy
from lack of use, and his eyes felt crusty since he'd
been sleeping so much and hadn't showered recently. He
knew he should be concerned about the fact that he
wasn't sure what day it was or how long he'd been
lying immobile on the couch, but he couldn't seem to
care. He was, however, getting annoyed by the
knocking. He scratched at his beard, shuffled to the
door, and looked out the peephole to see Skinner
standing in the hallway, a determined look on his
face. What the hell was he doing here? Skinner had
approved his leave of absence, so there was no reason
he should be there. Maybe he had a question about an
old case or something. Mulder didn't want to see
anyone, but it didn't look like Skinner was planning
to leave any time soon, so he opened the door.
"Mulder," Skinner said, looking him up and down.
"I was about to pick the lock." When Mulder stared at
him blankly, Skinner entered the apartment and closed
the door. He stared openly at Mulder for a while, but
Mulder had trouble reading his expression. It seemed
like a mix between concern, exasperation, and sadness.
"When's the last time you shaved and showered,
Mulder?" 
Mulder realized he must look pretty unkempt. He
rubbed at his rough beard and ran a hand through his
hair, which felt greasy. He probably didn't smell too
fresh either.
When Mulder still didn't answer, Skinner took
charge, leading him by the arm to the bathroom.
"Mulder, I want you to go shower and shave while I
make you some lunch. Then we'll talk."
Left alone in the bathroom, Mulder stood there
for a while, confused, before removing his sweats and
turning on the shower. He showered for a long time,
his mind drifting. He shaved in the shower, which
immediately made him feel better. The water felt good,
and he couldn't remember why he'd stopped washing
himself. Ethan used to like to fuck him in the shower,
sliding his hands up and down Mulder's soaped up cock.
Mulder used to go down on Ethan in the shower a lot
too. He had loved that. Before he knew it, Mulder was
jerking himself off, but he couldn't get more than
half hard. His penis started to hurt from the rough
handling, so he stopped. Feeling more alone than ever,
he sat in the tub and started to cry.

Skinner had made Mulder a turkey sandwich and
started to tidy up the apartment a bit. Scully had
been right-Mulder was a mess. He had tried to hide his
shock at first seeing Mulder's gaunt, disheveled
appearance. Not only was Mulder a mess, but his
apartment was a health hazard. While Mulder showered,
Skinner opened a couple of windows to get rid of the
stench of stale sweat and old food. He was glad he had
brought along the sandwich fixings since Mulder had no
fresh food in the refrigerator. He tied up the putrid
garbage that probably hadn't been emptied in weeks and
set it out in the hall to dispose of when he left. He
gathered the dirty dishes, dirty clothes, and bunched
up Kleenex scattered around the apartment, and
stripped the sheets from the bed. He took the laundry
down to the machines in the basement to start a load,
and when he returned, the shower was still running.
"Mulder, everything ok in there?" he shouted
through the closed door. When the only reply was the
sound of the shower, Skinner entered and pulled the
shower curtain aside. Mulder was crouched in the tub,
shivering in the now cool spray. He was quietly crying
and didn't look up at the intrusion.
Skinner turned off the water and grabbed a towel
off the bathroom floor. It was far from clean, but
there was no alternative at the moment. He draped it
over Mulder and tried to help him to stand and get out
of the tub. Mulder didn't want to budge. "Hey, come on
buddy, lets get you dry and warm," he said in the
gentlest voice he could muster while rubbing the towel
over Mulder's back. While he wasn't used to giving
comfort to anyone, it seemed to come naturally where
Mulder was concerned. Even at his most arrogant and
infuriating, Mulder always radiated a certain
vulnerability that Skinner was drawn to. Along with
his admiration for Mulder's righteous passion, it was
this vulnerability that caused Skinner to support him
all the years he'd supervised the x-files, even when
he couldn't let Mulder know he was supporting his
efforts. 
Mulder seemed to calm after a while and let
Skinner help him out of the tub and wrap the towel
around his waist. Mulder's skin was a pasty white, and
he was too thin, his ribs clearly visible, but he was
still an attractive man. Skinner tried not to stare at
his body as he walked him into the bedroom and sat him
on the bed. Mulder sat quietly as Skinner rummaged
through the dresser looking for some clean,
comfortable clothes. He found an oversized sweatshirt
and some sweatpants and handed them to Mulder.
Mulder clutched the sweats to his chest and
started to cry again. Skinner wasn't sure what to do.
He'd seen men break down before when he was in
Vietnam, but he understood why back then-it was a war
and they were all in the same boat. Words weren't
necessary. But in this situation he felt he needed to
say something.
"Hey, hey," he soothed, patting Mulder awkwardly
on the back. "Let me help you, ok?" He tried to pry
the sweats away from Mulder, but he clutched at the
clothing even more tightly, his crying turning to
harsh sobs. It suddenly hit Skinner that the sweats
were too large for Mulder because they weren't his.
They must have belonged to his lover. "Oh, Mulder, I'm
so sorry," he said, not explaining why. He sat beside
Mulder on the bed and pulled him into an embrace.
Mulder stiffened in his arms at first, but then
pressed his face against Skinner's neck and continued
to cry. It felt right to rock Mulder in his arms. They
stayed that way for a long time until Mulder's sobs
became the occasional sniffle or whimper. 
"I miss him," Mulder murmured against his neck
before nestling in even closer and pressing his lips
to Skinner's skin.
While the kiss felt electric, there was no way
Skinner was taking advantage of the situation. He
gently pulled away and held Mulder at arm's length. He
decided to ignore Mulder's advances. "Mulder, I'm
sorry. I didn't realize those were his clothes. Do you
have any clean clothes of your own?"
Mulder blinked his puffy red eyes and seemed to
think for a while. "Just suits," he said quietly.
"Do you think you could wear these for a little
bit while I do some laundry?" Skinner asked, hoping
that wearing Ethan's clothes wouldn't be too
traumatic. He didn't want Mulder wearing any of the
filthy clothes he'd found lying all over the
apartment.
Thankfully, Mulder nodded yes and carefully put
the clothes on, not seeming to mind dressing in front
of Skinner. He rubbed his hands over the sleeves as if
comforting himself. "They smell like him," he said
with a sad little smile.
Instead of replying to that statement, Skinner
said, "There's a sandwich waiting for you in the
kitchen. Why don't you eat while I put your clothes in
the dryer?"
"I don't think I can eat too much," Mulder
said--the most he'd said since Skinner had arrived.
"You need to eat something Mulder. Just try, ok?"
Mulder nodded and without another word got up and
shuffled off to the kitchen. 
After he'd gone back down to transfer the
laundry, Skinner returned to find Mulder slumped in a
kitchen chair picking at the turkey sandwich. He sat
across the table from him and cleared his throat.
"Mulder," he began, "Scully's concerned about
you, but she didn't think you'd want to see her."
Mulder didn't look up, instead continuing to
half-heartedly poke at his food.
"You can't go on like this," Skinner said, not
sure what he was supposed to do to help. When Mulder
didn't answer, he let him eat for a while, and made
himself a sandwich.
Once he finished his lunch, Walter found a broom
in a narrow closet off of the kitchen and swept up a
bit. He noticed the faint pink stain on the carpet and
shook his head. How awful for Mulder to not only have
to witness Scully shooting his lover in self-defense,
but also to be confronted with the evidence every time
he walked across the carpet. From what Scully said,
this Ethan was a supreme asshole, but Mulder had loved
him for some reason. He turned away from the stain and
went down to the basement to retrieve the dry laundry.

When he returned, he put clean sheets on the bed,
and then poked his head into the kitchen to find
Mulder still slumped over a half-eaten sandwich. "Why
don't we go for a walk?" he suggested.
Mulder shrugged.
"Come on, some fresh air and exercise will make
you feel better," Skinner said, preparing to drag
Mulder out of the stuffy apartment if he had to.
"There are clean clothes in the bedroom."
Mulder shrugged again, but stood up and walked to
the bedroom. Walter was about to go in after him, but
was surprised to see Mulder, now dressed in his own
jeans and t-shirt, emerge, holding a pair of running
shoes in one hand. 

The two walked for a long time before saying a
word. They didn't decide on a destination, but somehow
gravitated towards a nearby park. The afternoon was
sunny and warm, and Mulder found that the fresh air
and movement were making his head feel a little
clearer. As they briskly made their way down a
winding, tree-lined path, Mulder suddenly asked, "What
went wrong?"
Skinner seemed startled by the question and
hesitantly asked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean with me and Ethan," Mulder explained,
trying to rein in his emotions. "I loved him, but he
could have killed Scully, and he did hurt me. I didn't
want to admit it, but he did." Mulder thought of
himself a few days earlier, tied to his own bed,
covered in come. "He hurt me and humiliated me. Why
would he do that?"
Skinner led them to a nearby bench and sat down.
"I can't speak for Ethan, Mulder," he said, turning to
his subordinate, and now friend, "but sometimes people
do crazy things in the name of love. I didn't know
him."
"I think you would have liked him," Mulder said
wistfully. On the surface Ethan and Walter had a lot
in common. "Scully liked him at first."
"Really?" Walter asked as if he couldn't believe
it.
"Yeah," Mulder insisted, "he wasn't an evil
monster or anything. He was just really...possessive."
Mulder knew that Skinner probably wouldn't understand
why he felt the need to defend Ethan after everything
that had happened.
"Most people who abuse their spouses or lovers
aren't evil, Mulder," Skinner said, sounding as if he
was trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.
"You know that."
"Yeah," he admitted, "but I never imagined I'd be
on the receiving end." He was ashamed to think that he
had essentially been a battered wife. He thought back
to all of the times Ethan had coerced him into doing
things, both in and out of the bedroom, and how he had
obeyed for the reward of Ethan's undivided attention.
He felt so pathetic.
"No one plans on being victimized, Mulder,"
Skinner said sadly, as if he were speaking from
experience.
They began to head back to the apartment, each in
his own world.
Skinner was right, Mulder finally admitted to
himself. How could he have been so stupid? How could
he have been so weak? He, who had conquered countless
psychotic killers, mutants, aliens, and even stranger
things, had let himself be drawn into an abusive
relationship. A wave of anger for Ethan surged up
inside of him, that he had abused his power over him,
that he had nearly killed Scully, but just as quickly
the wave crashed. Ethan may have been wrong, but
Mulder knew that he had a sickness, that he showed
love the only way he was able, and that if he'd ever
asked Ethan about his past, he probably would have
found the root of his behavior. Ethan wasn't evil, but
Mulder would bet his father abused his mother. It was
always the same story. His anger at Ethan was replaced
with anger at himself, for being so blinded by Ethan's
attentions, and by sex, that he didn't see the
obvious. His own behavior was very telling about his
own family, his own childhood, but as a psychologist
and FBI field agent, he should have known better.
When he voiced these thoughts aloud to Skinner,
he was very understanding. "Don't blame yourself,
Mulder," he said as they finally approached Mulder's
building. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be
loved and protected. You just lost sight of what a
relationship should be like."
"Maybe I don't know what a relationship should be
like," Mulder admitted bitterly. They entered the
building and climbed the stairs.
"I could show you," Skinner, behind him, said in
a shy voice.
Mulder looked back at his boss, shocked, but
didn't say anything. As he led the way back to his
apartment he was filled with conflicting
emotions--fear at letting someone else into his heart
and bed, excitement at imagining Skinner as a lover,
guilt at thinking of someone else so soon after
Ethan's violent death, warmth at knowing that Skinner
wanted him. He unlocked the door and let Skinner
inside, shaking, not sure what would happen next.
Skinner seemed to sense Mulder's inner turmoil.
"You can say no, Mulder," he said once they were
inside sitting in the livingroom. "I know it's sudden,
but at the risk of sounding presumptuous and downright
corny, I think we were made for each other. You want
someone who will take care of you, make you feel
protected, and love you unconditionally. I want to
take care of you, and I think you know you can trust
me. We've already been through so much together, and I
would never hurt you."
Mulder measured each of his words. He had thought
that Ethan was the one, but apparently had been wrong.
How was he to know if he was making the right choice
now? Everything Skinner said made sense though. He
knew Skinner a lot better than he had known Ethan, he
realized. He knew he was a good man. And he had been
attracted to him for a long time, perhaps since he met
him, although he didn't admit it to himself until
years later. He even thought Scully would trust
Skinner to treat him well. The thought of Scully
caused a pain in his chest. She had risked her life
for him, and in return he had called her a bitch. How
would she ever forgive him? "I need to call Scully,"
he finally said.
Skinner looked surprised. Obviously it wasn't the
response he was waiting for, but he said, "That's
probably a good idea," and waited patiently while
Mulder made the call.
Scully wasn't home, but Mulder left a message.
"Scully, it's me. I understand if you don't want to
talk to me after everything, but I want to apologize.
I hope you'll forgive me. Please call." Mulder stood
silently for a while after hanging up the phone, aware
that Skinner was still sitting on the couch behind
him. Building up his courage, he finally turned and
sat beside Skinner, their hips touching. "Walter,"
Mulder asked, trying out the familiar address, "could
we start out just holding each other?"
"I'd love to," Skinner said with a smile. Mulder
realized that he'd seldom seen Walter smile, and it
was a sight he wanted to see a lot more of. He removed
his glasses and set them on the coffee table. Mulder
realized that he had never noticed how attractive
Walter's deep brown eyes were behind his lenses. The
two embraced, awkwardly at first since they were both
sitting in the same direction, but then both turned
their bodies enough to hold one another comfortably,
Mulder's face pressed into Walter's cotton-covered
shoulder. Mulder was glad that Walter smelled
different from Ethan, but just as good, almost spicy.
He pressed his lips against Walter's neck, but this
time, Walter didn't pull away, instead seeking out
Mulder's lips with his own. They kissed tentatively at
first, but Mulder was the first to deepen the contact,
and Walter took his actions as a signal not to hold
back. Soon they explored each other's mouths with
eager tongues, Walter taking the lead, as Mulder had
hoped he would. Walter slipped his big hands beneath
Mulder's t-shirt and caressed his bare back, and
Mulder disconnected their embrace for a moment so
Walter could remove the shirt entirely. Walter took a
moment to stare appreciatively at Mulder's chest,
which embarrassed Mulder considering how skinny he'd
gotten. His self-consciousness lessened, however, when
Walter ran his fingers lightly across his chest, and
then rubbed his nipples until they were raised and
hard. "You're beautiful," he said reverently, easing
Mulder back on the couch. He began to kiss and lick
Mulder from his face down to his navel, spending most
of his time sucking and nibbling at his nipples.
Mulder was flushed and panting, and ready for both of
them to be naked. He reached up to Walter's shirt and
began undoing the buttons. Walter didn't stop him from
pushing the open shirt from his broad shoulders,
exposing a well-defined, hairy chest. It was similar
to Ethan's in some ways, but different enough not to
bother Mulder. 
"Why don't we move to the bedroom, Fox?" Walter
suggested in a deep, rough voice. "I'd like to make
love to you if you're ready."
Mulder's full erection straining against his
jeans answered for him. The two quickly moved to the
next room, both now naked from the waist up. They
stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, caressing
each other's chests and shoulders. "Are you sure about
this, Babe?" Walter asked.
Mulder stiffened for a moment, but then relaxed
with a sigh. "Just as long as you don't call me Babe,"
he said.
Walter seemed to sense why without needing an
explanation. "No problem, Fox," he said before
unfastening Mulder's jeans and reaching inside his
underwear to hold his hard cock. He kissed Mulder
deeply while moving his hand lower to cup and roll his
balls in his palm.
Mulder moaned into his mouth and blindly fumbled
for the button on Walter's pants. Soon they both had
their pants lowered to mid-thigh, and tumbled together
onto the bed. Skinner released Mulder for a moment to
pull his clothes off entirely before removing his own.
Mulder reached out and ran his fingers along Walter's
hard length. His erection was hot to the touch and
deeply red, not as big as Ethan's, but beautiful
nonetheless. He shook his head to get thoughts of
Ethan out of his mind. He had to stop comparing Walter
to Ethan because there was no comparison.
"Are you ok, Honey?" Skinner asked, leaning over
Mulder's prone form and cupping his face, his forehead
creased with concern.
Mulder smiled up at him. He reached out again for
Walter's cock and gave it a squeeze. "I'm better than
ok," he said. "I can't wait until you're inside me."
Walter visibly swallowed, and then dove in for
another passionate kiss, all the while keeping a busy
hand between Mulder's thighs. "Where do you keep your
supplies?" he asked breathlessly when he came up for
air.
"Lube is right in there," Mulder panted, pointing
to the bedside table. "Condoms under the bathroom sink
I think." It had been so long since he'd used condoms,
but Mulder knew there were some left over from his
early days with Ethan.
Skinner scrambled off of the bed and was back
from the bathroom in moments, a foil packet in his
hand. After grabbing a tube of lube from the drawer he
dropped them both beside Mulder on the bed. He took a
moment to gaze at Mulder stretched out on his back
before kneeling over him and taking his mouth in yet
another kiss, this one almost bruising in its
intensity. They spent long moments exploring one
another's bodies, touching and licking. Mulder found
that Walter was particularly sensitive right below his
ribs and behind his knees, while Walter nuzzled at
Mulder's armpits, making him giggle. Mulder sat up and
leaned over to take Walter's erection into his mouth,
but after only a few moments, Skinner gently pushed
him back. He knew without saying that it wasn't
because Walter wasn't enjoying it, but rather because
he was enjoying it too much and wanted to save his
orgasm for Mulder's ass. 
He watched while Walter rolled the condom over
his now almost purple erection and slathered it
generously with lube. Mulder started to turn to offer
his ass, but Walter stopped him and positioned him on
his back. "I want to look at you," he whispered,
taking Mulder's mouth with his own again. Ethan
usually preferred to fuck him from behind.
Walter grabbed the pillows from the head of the
bed and wedged them beneath Mulder's hips to raise his
ass for easier access. Mulder pulled his knees up,
fully exposing his quivering anus. "You're so open for
me," Walter marveled. He squirted more lube onto his
fingers and began probing at Mulder's opening,
eliciting impatient moans from his new lover. Soon he
couldn't wait any longer and eased himself in
completely, until their balls were pressed against
each other. Walter held himself still for a few
minutes, not wanting it to be over too soon. He
devoured Mulder's mouth with his own, and trailed
moist kisses down his neck and chest, stopping at his
nipples to bite at them gently. Mulder's hands gripped
at his back, and he thrust his hips upward trying to
get Skinner to move. Walter stilled him with his own
hands saying, "Hold on, Fox, I want to fuck you for a
long time. I wish I could make love to you forever."
Soon he couldn't take it anymore, however, and began
to thrust, gently and slowly at first, but then
building in speed and intensity.
"Oh, God, Walter," Mulder groaned beneath him.
"Harder, please." He reached for his own cock which
bounced against his belly, leaking a steady stream of
precome, but Walter bushed his hands away and replaced
them with his own. Walter pounded into him for a long
time, the only noise in the room their heavy
breathing, guttural grunts, and the wet smack of flesh
on flesh. With Walter increasing the rhythm of his
hand on Mulder's cock, Mulder was the first to come,
sending a creamy spurt onto himself. Walter continued
to thrust, licking the come and sweat from Mulder's
chest, until he too orgasmed, shooting into the
condom.
Walter lay atop Mulder for a while, trying to
keep his weight on his elbows so as not to crush
Mulder. A panting Mulder kissed his mouth deeply,
gripping at the back of his neck. He didn't want
Walter to pull out yet, so he wrapped his arms around
him, caressing the sweat-slick skin and licking at the
bigger man's neck and the hollows of his collarbones.
"Oh, Fox, you're so sweet," Walter sighed,
lowering his head to lick Mulder in the same places.
Despite all of his intense encounters with
Ethan--the times he had made him scream and even pass
out--somehow sex with Walter was even better. He felt
as if it was more than their body parts connecting,
but a deeper connection;they instinctively knew what
the other wanted and needed. Mulder almost blurted out
"I love you," but held himself back. That would have
to wait. Instead he murmured, "Thank you."
Walter finally pulled out and removed the condom.
He retreated to the bathroom and returned with two
towels, one wet and one dry. He wiped between Mulder's
legs and cleaned the come off of his chest, as if they
had been doing it for years. The act was so intimate
that Mulder felt tears pool in his eyes.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Walter asked, worried when
he looked up to see Mulder softly crying. "Fox, did I
hurt you?" He dropped the towels on the floor and laid
beside Mulder, taking him into his arms.
Mulder struggled to speak. "No, it was
wonderful," he finally choked out. "It was the most
wonderful thing I've ever experienced."
Walter smiled, brushing Mulder's sweaty hair away
from his face. "I told you, we were made for each
other."
The two men turned on their sides as if knowing
what the other's next movement would be. Walter pulled
the covers over them and settled behind Fox, chest to
back, wrapping an arm around him. Fox, gripped
Walter's arm, interlacing his fingers with the larger
ones splayed over his chest. He slipped into an easy
sleep feeling loved, protected, and free. 

The end.