(lmelao@earthlink.net)

Website: http://hegalplace.com./

Rating: NC-17

Keywords: M/K slash, M/Sc friendship/DAL, Mulder POV

Category: SRHA

Spoilers: None

Disclaimers: These characters are not mine, but I love 'em! No infringement intended. I do not make money doing this. I make heavy breathing noises.

Summary: Mulder gets drunk and does something that changes things forever.

Date Posted: 4/16/02

Archive: Sure, but tell me where!

Notes: This came to me while thinking of a Friends episode. The idea is essentially stolen from them as well as one line of dialogue specifically. I'll note which one at the end. :) This is post-Apocrypha, pre-Tunguska. In other words, two arms.

Thanks: To Satina for being so excited about this one and urging me on. I wouldn't have written this without you. :)



The Closure Mantra
by Shannon Kizzia


"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm drunk."

"Yeah..." I sound wistful even to myself. I sigh. "Me, too."

Her voice is too loud and I wince. "*How* many bottles of wine was that?"

"Scully. Turn down your drunkenness."

She chuckles, low and slow and half-assed. "You're funny," she tells me. Am I? That's nice.

"You're nice," I tell her.

"Yeah," she sighs.

We're quiet for a few minutes, thinking about how nice she is, I guess. I don't know what time it is. I think it was 6 when I got here. It's pretty dark outside. The movie's long over. The pizza's gone except for the weird, now-crusty cheese melty things stuck to the cardboard box on Scully's coffee table.

"Coffee tables," I say. "Not just for coffee anymore."

She falls on me laughing like it's the funniest thing ever. I push her off me and she lands on a throw pillow in a fit of
giggles.

We've had a *lot*. Of wine.

Scully's laughter dies down and she sits up again. "Do you ever think about God, Mulder?"

"Oh!!" I moan loudly. Not this again. She freakin' falls asleep

on me whenever we get talking about religion and God and shit. And normally *she's* the one who starts it! Plus, it's boring. I wanna ask her why we can't talk about sex instead.

"Sex!" I say loudly.

"Huh?"

"Sex! I think about SEX, Scully!"

"Oh man, not Krycek again," she whines and throws herself back down on the throw pillow.

"I'm sorry," I say pitifully. "I know I sound like...a broken...mirror. Not mirror. Uh, thingy." I snap my fingers
then yell triumphantly, "Record!"

She snaps her fingers and then puts her finger on her nose. Then her hand lands heavily on mine and she hauls herself up. She leans her forehead on mine and I see one big Scully eye.

"Mulder. You need to wash that man out of your silly man brain." Silly man brain? "You're just horny. Happens all the time. He's not the man for you, Muller. Get. Over. Him."

"But..."

"Giggibshhh!" she says quickly, placing a heavy, drunken finger against my lips, smashing the top one up into my nose. Then shewhispers, "Over him." I guess she feels she's made her point because she leans back on the couch looking self-satisfied, like she's solved everything.

"But I need..." I start and once again she interrupts me.

"What you need, Muller, is something good in your life. Something that makes you happy and fulfills you. You need..."

"Your vibrator?" I supply.

Her eyes get wide. "Yes!" She grabs my hand and starts to shake

it with every syllable. "Muller, I will lend...no give! You my vibrator. Is got batteries an' everything."

Man, she *is* nice. I feel myself tearing up. "You're...you're a wonderful, beautiful, sssassy, sssexy, wonderful, great woman. And I love you."

"Muller, you are all those things! You hear me?! I love you!" Then she's in my arms and we're rocking back and forth on her couch and I'm feeling sea sick.

"Scully."

"You don't have to say it again. I know." She pats my back.

"No, I feel sick."

"And that's okay."

"No, stop rocking." I put my hands on her arms and stop her, leaning away.

"Whoa," she says.

We sit back in companionable silence again for a while. I think she's about to doze off when she hollers again. "You know what you need?! You needa call him!"

"Call who?"

"Kryshhek! You needa call him and tell him you're *done* giving him the time 'a day!"

I think about it for a minute. It's not actually a bad idea. I've been thinking about him for months now. How bad I wanna believe that he's a good person at heart. How good I think we could be together if he were to work with me instead of against me. How hot he is in leather. I *should* call him! End these fantasies right here, right now.

"You're damn right, Scully."

"*Damn* right," she emphasizes.

"I'm calling the boys. They can find his number."

I hear her mumble behind me, "Damn right," once more as I go to her desk and pick up her phone. I dial and wait.

"Frohike! I need somebody's number. Ya gotta get it."

"Okay, Mulder. Who?"

"Alex Krycek!"

"No way man. You shitting me? Why?"

Inspiration strikes. "Scully says!"

There's a brief silence, then, "We're on it."

I hang up and within ten minutes he's called back. "We've got a cell. 619 555 4899 Be careful."

"Okie."

"And Mulder. What's she wearing?"

I laugh and hang up.

I walk with her phone in my hand, looking at it. I pace in front of the couch. Scully urges me on.

"You can do it. C'mon, Mulder. Closure."

I repeat it to myself like a mmm...like a mmmm...like a cool word that starts with an M and I'll think of it later when I'm sober.

I dial the number. Bring the phone to my ear. I look at Scully and she smiles and nods. I feel the adrenaline rush through my blood. I get his voice mail. A female voice soothes happily, "Hello, you have reached Sprint PCS customer..." There's a pause then his voice. "Alex." Then she's back. "If you would like to leave a voice message, press one." I do then it beeps. I'm on.

"Alex. It's Mulder. Fox Mulder. I'm just calling..." I look fearfully at Scully. She mouths, 'Go! Go!' I nod. "I'm just
calling to let you know that I'm just fine. Totally fine. I am so over you, Alex. Way fuckin' over." Scully gives me the thumbs up for the F word. I become confident and I strengthen my voice. "That's what this call's all about. I don't need you or your lies or your leather. I'm over you. I. Am over. You. And that, my friend, is what they call closure."

I click the line off and Scully jumps off the couch and hugs me. She looks at me, smiling. "I'm so proud of my Mulder!" Then she gasps with an idea. "Let's go to Denny's!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My head is pounding. Just pounding. What in God's name...? I try to sit up but it hurts too bad and I lie back down, moaning, eyes squeezed shut. The leather of my couch squeals beneath me. Last I remember, I was at Scully's scarfing pizza. And merlot. Dear God the merlot. Jesus, I must have had two bottles easily.

And my head's pounding again.

I get up to go to the bathroom and get some aspirin. I round the corner and flick on the bathroom light and there's a gun in my face.

"What do you mean closure?"

"Shit!" I reach for a gun that's not there. I'm in my jeans and nothing else. I've got nothing with which to defend myself. He shoves his forearm into my neck and pushes me against the wall. The fucking towel rod is in my back.

His voice is calm. Exacting. "I said, *friend*, what did you mean by closure? What game are you playing, Mulder? How'd you get my fucking number, huh?" He shoves his arm into my throat for punctuation.

"I...don't..." Closure? Why does that sound familiar? Like I should know what he's talking about.

"I'm not an idiot and I'm not a fool. Be straight with me."

Straight? Now *that's* funny. Not with lips like those, buddy. Or an ass you just want to...

"Talk," he orders quietly.

Then it hits me.

"Mantra."

"What?" His eyes narrow on my face and his arm loosens slightly. "What's that, code, Mulder?"

"No, I... I called you."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Could you stop choking me, Krycek? I don't have a weapon."

Something dawns on his face and he lets go, keeping the gun trained on me. "Turn around."

I do, reluctantly, and then curse when he shoves me into the wall again. "Dammit, you don't have to..."

"Hands up. Palms flat on the wall."

It hits me that he's going to search me for weapons. Duh. Why wouldn't he? My dick starts to get hard. At the same time it's really occurring to me what I said. And that he probably should know exactly what I meant, but he can't believe it. He doesn't believe I'd want him. Wow.

His free hand comes down on my hip. He pats around the back of the waistband, over the back pockets and therefore my buttocks. He reaches into the pockets one by one and my cock jerks up proud and happy.

I feel the gun in my back and he feels down the outside of one leg and then the other. Then the inside. About two inches below my balls and then down. I concentrate on not breathing weird. My hands are tense against the wall.

He stands and his voice is suddenly in my ear. "Don't move."

His hand comes around and slides down my hip, down just on the outside of the hard line of my cock. He gasps softly behind me and his hand stills. Then he continues, gentler, down the side of my straining shaft, down to my inner thigh, to my balls, then back up it comes. He drags his fingers up the outside of my erection and I hear him breathing erratically, shallowly, quietly. I hold absolutely still as his hand comes up to right above the waistband of my jeans and across my bare abdomen. I can't help shivering. I feel him hesitate briefly. And then he does the other side, his hand reaching across me now, his little finger tracing the left side of me through the denim as his graceful hand descends. It feels too good. I've been trying so hard to not betray what he's doing to me. Like it's an erection
I always have or something. But I can't. I don't want to. I want to stop pretending. But I don't want to scare him. I let
my head roll back slightly, my throat arch. I close my eyes and sigh through my open mouth.

He says nothing, but I hear his feet shuffle and he gets closer in behind me. Now I can feel him. He, too, is erect.

This time, instead of bringing his hand back up, he comes to the center, cupping my balls, the butt of his hand resting against my cock, then he drags his hand up. And he curls his fingers around me.

Now here we are, still, and all I know is our breathing, ragged in the small, echoing space. We stand together for a moment, on the precipice. Then he speaks.

"Turn around."

He slides his hand up and tucks his fingers inside my waistband as I slowly turn to him. My eyes are cast down. I'm afraid to look at him. I see him, out of the corner of my eye, slowly lean down and place his gun on the floor. Then he kicks it away from him and the noise is loud in my head, then it goes away.

He stands back up and takes two careful steps into me. I feel his breath now. He's shaking. Just barely.

He unbuttons and unzips my pants and I watch his hands work with my head bowed. He peels the two sides away. I'm not wearing underwear. He reaches for me and brings my cock out. I'm hard and colorful and my slit is oozing some precum.

I slowly drag my eyes up his body to look at his face. He's looking down at me, lust in his eyes, uncertainty, a little
fear. Like a shadow creeping across a wall, I reach for him. His eyes dart to mine with a sharp intake of breath, but I look at him steady, still reaching. He doesn't stop me.

Fuck oh fuck. He's not stopping it. This is not some test of me where he's going to break character and laugh and punch me and run. This is going to happen.

I release the buttons one by one on his black jeans. He fucking lets me. I reach inside and my fingers touch bare skin. I'm touching his cock. I'm touching Alex Krycek's cock. His silky, hot cock. I shudder a grateful breath, achingly aroused.

I pull him out so that I can see him. He's beautiful. More so than I'd even pictured. Smooth. Pink-dark. Full. Throbbing.

I look up into his eyes.

We're both scared.

I close my fingers tight around him, looking down. He does the same to me. And we pull.

Godfuckingdamn, it's good. I'm squeezing and pulling on Alex Krycek's cock and he's doing the same to mine. We both work with our right hands. I alternate between watching myself jack him and watching his fist around me.

We say nothing. Nothing with words. He works me gentle at first. Slow. Stroking. Then he squeezes around me tighter and rubs over the tip of me with his thumb. I grunt. I start twisting my hand around him as I pull, using my wrist. His breath sounds strangled and I look up to see his eyes close for a minute. When they open again, he looks at me. I let the barest hint of a feral smile touch my lips and he licks his. We both speed up.

We begin thrusting at the same time as if by instinct, on some mutual clock. His cockhead is glistening with silvery-white liquid and I want to bend down and suck him, but there's no way I'm destroying the moment. I watch his pelvis tilting, pulsing rhythmically toward me, into my tight hand. We're pumping each other now, and I look at him again. He's been looking at me. At my face. Now we look at each other. Neither of us looks away. We're starting to grunt as we thrust, to squeeze each other harder, to sweat, to shake.

I realize for the first time that our left hands are both empty and clutching spasmodically at nothing. I'm getting close. Pretty damned sure he is. We're about to come on each other. We're about to lose this. Where will we be after the fact? I start to panic, start to breathe harshly through gritted teeth, start to wonder if this changes anything.

Well, if *this* doesn't maybe something else will.

Before I can stop myself, I grab behind his head with my left hand and haul him into me. I crush my mouth to his as our cocks and hands collide momentarily. He moans deliciously into me as I open his mouth and push my tongue in. I grunt into him as we fist each other's dicks almost too hard now. We're out of control. I'm kissing him and he's kissing me back, like we've been absolutely starved for one another. It's when I feel his hand close tightly around the hair at the base of my skull that I come.

God, I come. He's grasped onto me hard, both with the hand holding my cock and the one holding my head so that I keep kissing him. I whine joyfully into his mouth as I come and come and come all over his hand and stomach and my hand and his cock. I think about the fact that I'm coming on his cock and it brings forth more, hard and hot and strong.

And then before I'm through, he comes. He opens his mouth, hips thrusting forcefully toward me, fingers ripping at my hair and he shoots all over me.

And he says, "Mulder!! AhgodMulder!"

I capture his mouth again in a hard, hot, dominating kiss. He said my name. He came on my name. God, I've never felt like this. Never so powerful. And so fucking humble. And like I want to freeze in this moment. I kiss him breathless and then reluctantly release his lips, panting.

We stay, panting together, hands loosening, bodies close, eyes shut.

We stay so close, denying the next moment its due.

Then I let go of his dick and trail my slick fingers up onto his messy, hard stomach. He flinches.

"Alex..." I whisper.

His hand tightens again in my hair and then his lips shift to my ear. "Do you have closure now?"

My chest tightens. Is that what this was? "No," I choke. "No."

And then he saves my life.

"Good."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I hear the shower turn on. His turn. He let me go first. I was messier.

The gun is in the kitchen. The clip is locked in a drawer. That was, strangely, the *one* awkward moment.

I'm lying on my couch naked. Half hard. I'm listening to the water splash. I'm wondering where my life would have gone if I hadn't've made a stupid, drunken, wonderful mistake.

I pick up the phone and call Scully.

"Scully."

"Scully, do you ever think about God?"

She's quiet. Then, "Oh my god, you had sex."

I smile over the phone at her.

"Was it..?"

"Yes," I answer.

"Shit." She's quiet again. "So things are..?"

"Yes, very."

"Wow." Quiet. Then, "I love you, Mulder. I'm not drunk. I *am* hung over. But I'm telling you that I love you. If you're happy, so am I."

"Thanks, Scully."

"You're welcome. Listen, I gotta go. Be careful, okay?"

"I will, Scully. I promise."

"Oh and Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"What'd you do with my goddamned vibrator?"

I laugh and hang up.

And then I decide I need another shower.



End

Feedback cherished at lmelao@earthlink.net or shannon@hegalplace.com

The line from the Friends ep was: I. Am over. You. And that, my friend, is what they call closure. :)

Thanks so much for reading!!