TITLE: Perspectives II 
AUTHORS: Araxdelan & Lone Gungirl 
E-MAIL: krycekluvsmulder@hotmail.com & X@aon.at     
Feedback appreciated!
URL: http://www.members.tripod.com/Araxdelan/index.html
(previous story can be found there)
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: Story 
KEYWORDS: M/K Slash 
SPOILERS: Just the usual ones. Nothing past *The Red and the 
Black*. 
ARCHIVE: Everywhere 
SUMMARY: Sequel to Perspectives. Picks up where that story left 
off. Doubts come and go, and questions arise, but the boys both seem 
to be looking for the same thing.
DISCLAIMER: You wouldn't let them do that on the show anyway, so 
don't fucking complain. 
ARAXDELAN'S NOTES: Thanks to everyone who sent feedback on 
Perspectives I. Thanks to Lone Gungirl for being my partner in 
crime, and my personal therapist.
LONE GUNGIRL'S NOTES: We didn't plan to write a sequel to 
Perspectives, but how could we disappoint all the people who send us 
such nice feedback?
WARNING: We are WAFFers, and proud of it!




Part One - Mulder:  Afraid


He has returned. Why am I so relieved? Why do I gather him in my
arms? I don't know. But it feels so good and so right.

"You're such a pain in the ass, Krycek." I mumble into his ear. I don't
intend to insult him. "I'm glad you have come back." it means. "I
appreciate your embrace." and "I don't want to be your enemy any
more."

He seems to understand, and when I feel his face against my head, I
know he agrees. I press him against me, and he does the same to me.
We sway and stumble against the door, but neither of us wants to let
go, so we slowly slide down the door, to the floor.

We end up flat on the ground, him beneath me. He smiles tentatively
upwards, and I smile back. We still have a long way to go, but the
worst is over. I carefully lay my weight across him, and melt into the
embrace. As I bury my head into the gently sloping curve of his
shoulder, I inhale deeply.

This is his scent. Leather and sweat, and something else; something
uniquely his own. Sweet and sharp, with the spicy tang of ginger, but
not as thick or obvious. I want to memorize this smell. I want to
memorize him. I never want to let him go, never want him to let
*me* go.

"Mulder..." I hear him say. His voice is raspy like a cat's tongue. I
look into his face. Not a wolf this time. Open and vulnerable.

"Mulder, I want to tell you something. But I need you to believe me.
Can you do this?"

Can I do this? Can I believe I see fear of rejection and the wish for a
bond in the deep green ponds beneath me?  Can I believe that soft
mouth won't tell me lies again? I don't know if I can. But I want to.
"Yes." I answer.

He swallows. His lips part. "I'm sorry that I worked for them. I never
meant to hurt you. I'm sorry."

The old, familiar pain tears at me. "My father?" I choke out.

"I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. But they were faster than me.
They shot him through the window."

"Scully's sister?"

"I criticized their methods. The chain-smoking motherfucker didn't
trust me anymore. So they decided I needed to get a chaperone.
When they ordered us to kill Scully, I let her phone ring. I thought
she'd be warned. I didn't know her sister would come. He shot so
quick I couldn't kill him."

How I wish I could look into his head! "Is this true, Krycek? Is this
really true?"

"Yes, it's really true."

His eyes are so full of regret that I believe him. And it still hurts so
much. If I only could turn back time! But I can't. All those things have
happened, and there's nothing left to do. God, it cuts like a knife! I
hold back the tears so he won't see me weep.

But when he suddenly turns his face away, and I feel his chest twitch,
I know he's crying, too. I put my head back on his shoulder and let my
feelings flow. His head is still turned sideways, but he starts to rub
my shaking back. I hold on to him, and we cry together - for all that
has happened, for all that didn't happen, and for all we can't change
now. When the sobs start to rock him, and he presses his wet face
into the hollow of my throat, I know we are enemies no longer.

And now, in this moment, it's so hard to console who we've become
with the men we once were. Even earlier this evening, the very nature
of our passion was different. We fought, let all the strong and painful
emotions free. Now the passion burns in an entirely different light,
and the emotions flow free with tears instead of violence. Our focus
swings from hate to love, but never leaves each other. We can never
quite leave each other.

There's something quite inexplicable between us, something that has
allowed us to let loose upon the other what we would normally hide
from the world. From rage to tears. This, it all feels so natural, so
right, so comfortable.

We've both ceased our crying now, and it's been so long since I've
just layed quietly, holding and being held. I think to the past... perhaps
I never have. Never wanted to. But now, I can think of nothing as
glorious than the solid honesty of the man in my arms.

His shirt is open. It's torn from our previous fight and lacks
buttons. Hard muscles under sleek skin. His warm scent. Breathing,
gentle rise and fall. I don't know if it's right what I want. And I don't
know if it will ruin the peace between us. And I want... so much...

My hand moves by itself when I slowly stroke down his side. Silky
firmness. Warm and alive. I hear him gulp. "Stop that." I expect him to
say. He softly touches my cheek instead.

I pull away, just a bit, so that I can look into his eyes. Green, green
eyes. I lean down and press my lips against one, kissing it shut, and
then the other. Gentle fluttering against sensitive skin, and the taste
of his tears. I draw back, and he stares up at me with an expression of
such peace that I cannot contain the smile that breaks out across my
face. He lifts his head from the ground, and steals a kiss.

When he moves to settle himself back onto the floor, I follow,
trailing my tongue across his mouth. A gentle moan escapes him, and
he opens to my touch, letting me inside, letting our tongues tangle. I
can no longer hold my weight up, and I collapse, writhing atop him.
He in turn moves against me, and we begin a slow, sensuous dance.

I'd like to be in bed now, but I don't dare to say anything. I'm afraid the
spell will be broken. Just as I think about how I could get us to bed, I
hear Krycek's hoarse voice: "I really like this, Mulder, but the floor's
kinda hard."

Again, I have to smile. "Let's go to bed."

I roll off of him. Pulling myself into a sitting position, I can hear my
bones creak, and my muscles object to the movement. Ignoring them,
I slowly stand, and then offer my hand to him.

Soon, he is standing beside me. I lean in and nibble at his neck, all the
while leading us towards the bedroom.

Once we're through the door, he looks over my shoulder, at the mess
on the bed. He grins at me, raising one dark brown eyebrow, before
he moves past me. With one swoop, he clears the crap off the sheets.
He turns back around, looks me up and down with a feral gleam in
his eyes, and throws me down onto the bed.

I almost come in my pants. Okay, time to calm down. Think unsexy
thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts. Oh... how can I possibly do that
when he's lowering himself on to the bed? Lowering himself on top
of me. Slithering up until our bodies are completely aligned. His
mouth is on mine again. I'm out of control, thrusting up towards him.
I can feel his throbbing bulge against my flank. My hands glide under
his shirt and over his firm back.

I start reaching down to his gorgeous butt, when it suddenly strikes
me. I'm having SEX with him! I stop in my tracks. My brain boots up.
What will happen tomorrow?

Two green emeralds questioningly shine into my face. "What's the
matter?"

"I'm just tired." I nearly say. "It's late and it's been a long week." But
then I choke at the lie. And I take the risk and tell the truth. "What
will happen tomorrow, Alex?"

He sits up. His eyes turn dark. "I don't know, Lisitsa. I don't know."

I have no clue what Lisitsa means, but he looks so sad that I don't dare
to ask. I just want to make sure he doesn't leave. "Let's just go to
sleep, okay? We'll talk tomorrow."

"Okay."

"I'll just go brush my teeth. You can borrow some sweats. They are in
the right side of the closet."

"Okay."

When I emerge from the bathroom, he has already curled up at the
left bedside. I turn out the light and carefully slip under the blanket.
I'm afraid to touch him.




Part Two - Krycek: Home


What? What did I do wrong? I wrack my brain, trying to figure out
what turned Mulder off. Everything was going so well. Right up until
he put his hand on my ass. Then he just froze, and asked me what I
thought tomorrow would bring.

And now, he's lying next to me, so very still. So very distant. And
suddenly, I'm afraid of what will happen. He said he accepted my
answers, my apology, but now I doubt that he truly did. Things were
moving so fast, he was out of his head. He probably started having
second thoughts, realized who I was. And now tomorrow will bring
nothing but pain and rejection.

I so much wish to be close to him. I'm not even mad that he doesn't
want me. I understand. He's a beautiful man; he could have
anyone. I used to be like that, too. Those times are gone. What
halfway self-respecting person would want to be together with
something like me? My left forearm is missing. I'm an ugly cripple
now.

If you are fat, you can eat less. If you are meager, you can work out.
Scars can be lasered away. There are even methods to grow new hair
if you are bald. But a lost arm is lost. Forever. So are my chances to
be loved. What's life worth without love? Nothing.

I bite into my knuckles so Mulder won't hear me cry. I should leave
and never show up again. But I'm so depressed that I can't move.

He seems to have heard me, though. His face appears in front of me.
"Alex? ... Alex, I'm sorry."

I feel unable to answer. He lays his hand on my left shoulder. I'm
ashamed and jerk away. He starts to babble how sorry he is, and how
he hates one night stands, and that he knows he is a coward when
relationships are concerned, and things like that I don't believe
anyway.

"Stop lying to me!" I finally shout, still in tears. "You're turned off
by my arm! I know that I'm ugly, so don't tell me shit!"

He is silent at that. But only for a while. With the most tender voice
he speaks again. "I wish I were as beautiful as you." He softly touches
my cheek. Kisses my tears away. Kisses my left shoulder, my upper
arm, my armpit. Even the scar tissue were my elbow used to be. "The
arm doesn't matter. You are beautiful. So beautiful."

Would he lie to me? Especially about something as important as this?
I've always been able to trust him before. He's an honest man. But
still, I need to know for sure. And there's only one way for me to tell.

I take his chin in my hand and lift his face away from me. Up, so that I
can look into his eyes. I gasp at what I see there. Love. Pure,
unconditional love. I awkwardly pull him up, so we are face to face,
and press my lips against his. He's leaning halfway over me now, and
as we kiss, he rubs my shoulder soothingly.

Can this be real? Or is it just wishful thinking? "Mulder..."

Big, shining eyes look at me, in a both curious and concerned gaze. I
caress his stubbled cheek. "Lisitsa... we still don't know what will
happen tomorrow."

"I know what will happen tomorrow. We will have breakfast together,
and then we will go play basketball, or go swimming, or whatever you
want, and then we'll go shopping for groceries and cook lunch, or go
to a restaurant, just what you prefer, and then..."

"But that's impossible. *They* will..."

His lips turn into the shape of a heart; like they always do when he is
determined to do something mad and wants support for it. "I don't
care what *they* will do! I'm sick of *them*! We have a right to a
little happiness!"

I smile and lay my head against his collarbone. This man is so
stubborn, it's amazing! I begin to understand why Scully can't object
to him very long, no matter with what craziness he comes up. And I
know now. It is real. It's not wishful thinking. I mean something to
him.

His soft cherry mouth brushes my face. I smooth my hand over his
back, his side. I think I love him.

His soothing caresses turn intimate. He strokes the back of his
fingers over one of my nipples, then lets his palm move over my
chest. With each sweep of his hand he lowers it, until he is tickling
his fingers down my side. The soft brush over my nipple and across
my ribs drive lust into me. I start to kiss him.

He moans into my mouth, and I wind my arm around him. With one
strong pull, I topple his full weight onto me. He's heavy, but the
weight somehow makes this experience more tangible. //No, this
isn't a fantasy. Fox Mulder is here, crushing you beneath himself,
kissing you back like there's no tomorrow.//

I can't hold back. I have to touch his ass. I sneak my hand under the
waistband of his sweats. He feels so good down there. Hard,
muscular. Covered with warm velvet.

His hands leave me. He raises himself up, his head still bent, still
kissing me, and puts all his weight on one arm. I feel the other one
petting my neck, and then it begins to slither down my bare chest,
brushing against my skin, lower, lower, lower... oh fuck.... He's
touching me through the sweatpants, cupping me in his palm and
slowly rolling his hand. And I'm loving every second of it.

Suddenly, his hand is gone. I break away from the kiss long enough to
whimper, "No... please..." I sound pathetic to even my own ears. He
simply goes back to kissing me, his lips occasionally wandering to
nearby areas of my face. And, just as I get lost in the kiss, just as I
stop paying any attention to where his hand went, it swoops into my
sweatpants.

He begins to massage me. Jesus, this feels so incredibly good!

The sensation is too much, and I clench my hand. Unfortunately, I
forgot where it was. He hisses as he feels me grab at his backside. As
he does this, he breaks away from the kiss, and arches his head up. I
use the opportunity to lick and nibble underneath his chin, trailing my
lips down until I can gently bite his neck.

Since he enjoyed it so much the first time, I grab him again. This time
he moans. I loosen the hold, and begin to slowly shift my fingers,
moving them between his butt cheeks. I brush across his sensitive
opening with my fingertips.

His hand stops moving. "Hey, no one told you to stop!" I say, with
good humour filling my voice.

"No one told you to stop, either. Do that again. Please."

I do. He gasps, and thrusts up towards my touch. "Again!"

I look up at him. His eyes are squeezed shut in ecstasy, his mouth
hanging open as he takes little panting gasps. His bottom lip is
beckoning me, so I reach up and suckle at it before I respond to him.
"Okay."

I take my hand out from beneath his pants, and roll him over onto his
back before he can protest. I lean over him, and begin wriggling his
pants down his legs. He lifts himself at bit, helping me. Once they're
off, I throw them over my shoulder, and gaze at the sight before me.

Nothing has ever been as beautiful as this. Ever. Mulder is splayed
across the mattress, his limbs strewn casually about, as if he couldn't
be bothered to move them from the position they landed in. His cock
stands front and center, it's swollen state demanding attention. His
face carries an expression that can only be described as wanton,
beseeching me to continue.

I quickly take my own pants off, and move to lean over him. Before I
can, he stops me. "No." He says. "Stand up, I want to look at you."

I blush, but stand. I'd do anything if he asked me to. I turn slightly to
the left, hiding my ruined side. I keep my head down, and, after a
brief moment, try to return to the bed.

"Wait. Turn around, I want to see all of you."

I do as he says, all the while looking at the ground.

After I finish turning, he speaks again. "God. I've waited to see you
like this for so long, and now that I've beheld the reality I know that
my imagination has been wholly inadequate. No human mind could
conjure up something as perfectly beautiful as you."

I blink in surprise. When I look up, I see him smiling at me, with a
look of awe. "No one's ever said anything so wonderful to me before.
Thank you, but know that I'm no where near as gorgeous as you,
Lisitsa."

"Really?" he says. He is so excruciatingly cute like this. Long legs
sprawled over the bed, a big, but somehow innocent looking penis,
and an astonished expression on his face. I snort, then laugh. "We
could argue about this all night, but I'd rather get back to what we
were doing."

He smiles back at me. "Me too."

I climb back onto the bed, and slither onto Mulder. I can't wait to feel
his slick hard-on. The first touch, skin to skin, from head to toe, is
sensational. We both mouth our pleasure, with groans and gasps, and
begin thrusting against each other. Our cocks brush, over and over
again, driving us both mad with pleasure. I've never experienced
anything that erotic. I can't describe how I adore him.

There is nothing to prove, nothing to hide. Only to enjoy. I suck on
his nipples as if I were a baby. I never knew a man could have such
pretty nipples. His hands are all over me. In the language of my
childhood I tell him that I love him. He calls me his beautiful, black,
green-eyed wolf. Calls me his love. Whispers that he'll never let me
go again. Time stands still. It seems we move like that for ever.

He looks like he were in pain when he comes. His face contorts, his
nails dig into my shoulders and his stomach muscles contract as his
semen spouts out of his penis opening.

That does it for me. A strange, loud sound escapes my throat as I
ejaculate.

Spent, I lay quietly against him, momentarily nothing more than a
contented, human shaped puddle. Once I get my senses back, and
control of my body, I kiss him, showing him how much I appreciated
what just happened.

Between us, our come is slick; our bellies are sliding together as our
seed mixes together. Mulder breaks the kiss, and reaches down,
gathering some of it on his fingers. He brings it up, and I begin
licking at it, seeing what we taste like when we're combined. Two
different bitter, salty tastes, intermixing into something so perfect,
something seemingly meant to be.

Soon Mulder's tongue joins my own, and we finish cleaning off his
hand together. Our tongues brush, occasionally, sparking fire in my
tired body. But only a *little* fire. When Mulder moves, drawing me
into another deep kiss, I regretfully pull away. "Mulder, we have to
get cleaned up."

He sighs. "Okay, let me..."

"No, that's okay. I'll go." I slowly climb out of bed, and make my way
to the bathroom. I pull drawers open until I find what I'm searching
for. I take one of the washcloths, moisten it with warm water, and
bring it back into the bedroom.

When I return, Mulder is lying on the bed, a picture of satisfaction.
He feels my presence, and opens his eyes. If at all possible, his smile
grows a bit wider. I've never seen him so happy before, and I feel
proud to know that I'm the one who caused it.

"So," I ask, "no regrets?"

He laughs. "Not at all. In fact, I enjoyed that so much that I think I'd
like to do it over and over again, in different variations, for as long as
you'll let me."

That makes me grin. But the grin soon disappears, as I realize the
impossibility of it. I sigh, and sit quietly down on the bed. I begin
gently wiping the semen off of his stomach, gathering my thoughts.

"Mulder, I.... I'd like nothing more than to make love to you, day and
night, until I die. But, that's the thing; if I did make love to you day
and night, or if I even kept your company for too long, I'm sure that
we'd both die a lot sooner."

"Couldn't we protect each other?"

"Maybe, but I don't want to risk your life like that. I... I love you too
much to do that."

His eyes grow wide as I say the words to him for the first time.
"You... you *love* me?"

I nod. He smiles. I smile.

He takes the cloth from my hand, and begins cleaning me. "I love you
too."

When he is finished, he gives my belly button a kiss. Many people
say the words, and don't mean them. I know Mulder's words aren't
empty, because I have never *felt* so loved in my whole life. I draw
him up, and softly brush my lips across his.

When we part, he leans back, and looks into my eyes. "It's because I
love you, because you love me, that I think we could do it. We could
work together, we could beat them. And besides..." he looks away,
biting at his bottom lip, "I don't know how I can go back to my old life
after tonight. So much has changed, and when I think about going
forward with you by my side, I see hope. I see happiness and victory.
And when I think of us parting, going back to fighting on different
sides, I feel... dead. The emptiness that has crept up on me ever since
Scully went into remission comes back. I need you here, with me.
Believing in me."

I turn his head back around, making him face me. He has tears in his
eyes. "What about Scully?"

"Scully.... she's grown so cold and distant. And, when it came down to
it, she told me she couldn't follow me. She doesn't believe, never has.
I need someone who *knows*. Someone... fuck... not someone! You.
I need you. Not just giving me tips, not just sending me off to
military bases, but *there*, by my side, covering my back. Going
with me to all the places I'm not supposed to be. Scully is great on
official cases, but I want you there when I have to go after Them. I
want... I just want *you*."

Nobody's ever wanted me before. Nobody's ever loved me before. I
want to cry out, "Yes! Yes! Yes!", but I don't. Some part of my mind
keeps reminding me what danger we'll both be in. But I can't tell him
no when he's pouting and rubbing tears out of his eyes like a tired
child.

"I'll sleep on it, and give you my answer in the morning. Just know
that if I say no, it's only because I'm trying to protect you. I only want
to do what's best for you."

He smiles at me, kisses me. "Okay. Thank you."

I lie down on the bed. And on the washcloth. I pick myself up, toss
the washcloth off the bed, and lie down again. Mulder curls up next to
me. I wind my arm around him, and pull him in close. I scoot down,
and rest my head atop his chest. Perfect.

"Goodnight... *lover*." He whispers, in an overly dramatic, husky
voice.

I laugh, and roll my eyes. "Goodnight Mulder." I hesitate, and then
add, "I love you."

I feel him smile into my hair. "I love you, too."

I clear my mind of all thought, and let myself enjoy the peaceful,
domestic moment, as I drift into sleep.



*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(

The winter landscape extends as far as I can see. Endless white, snow
and snow and snow. And, as much as there is, more falls. No, not
falls... whips down, thrown by the wind. A wind so strong, it knocks
me to the ground, into a drift.

I don't move. There is no point. Even if I could get my numb legs to
carry me, there is nowhere to go. *They* are out there. I don't know
how I know. But they are. The rebels and the shifters, the colonists
and the clones. And the oil. God no, the oil.

They're all fighting each other, and, for some reason, all want me
dead.

I look to my left. I realize I'm naked, and whole. But my left arm is
black with frostbite. I move, touch it gently with my right. It falls off.
I scream.

The noise is indistinguishable from the wind, yet somehow, *it*
finds me. As if by radar. It surfaces, bubbling up from beneath the
snow, a few inches away from my head. It flows, over the icy surface.
In it's black depths I see shades of blue, and it rolls in waves like a
dark ocean. It would be beautiful, if I did not know how sinister it
was.

It approaches me at a quick pace, knowing it's destination, and never
pausing in it's pursuit. I begin begging it, uselessly. Just let me die
in the snow. Just let me freeze to death. Let me die, out in the cold.

If it does hear anything I say, it ignores it. It inches closer, and oozes
up my face. I close my eyes, try to lock out the oil, but nothing helps,
and I feel moisture across my eyelids....

But no.... this is different. No worms of oil slithering up my nose,
into my mouth. Just alternating wetness on one eye, and then the
other. But wait! Now, something's entering my mouth... a tongue.
Warm and familiar....

I open my eyes, and see Mulder above me. "C'mon, lazybones. We
have to go." he says.

"Why?"

"*Why*? Because it's cold out here, silly!"

And that's when I realize that I'm no longer cold. Mulder's body is
draped across mine, keeping me warm, and safe. He gets up, but the
warmth stays.

He extends a hand out to me. I grip it, pull myself up. I wrap my arm
around him, and he wraps his around me. We begin walking across the
snow, into oblivion. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"Home."

"Home? Where's that?"

He shrugs. "Don't know. We have to find it." And then he squeezes me
against him, and it doesn't matter if we have to look a little. I feel
secure. I know we'll find it. I know, deep in my heart, just as I know I
love my Mulder.

I look up at the sky, trying to see something, anything to navigate by,
but all I can see is endless white, and it blurs, it's a ceiling above my
head....

*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(


I drift slowly out of the dream, taking a moment to realize that there
really *is* a ceiling above my head. I remember my dream, and
shiver.

Mulder feels this, and holds me tighter. Some time during the night
we must have switched positions. Now he is the one burying his head
into my chest. I rub his arm gently, and the moment of disquiet
passes, and he drifts back into a deep sleep.

I continue staring at the ceiling, remembering the cold, and feeling
the living warmth in my arms. In the dream, we set off on an endless,
impossible search, and yet I was *sure* we would find what we were
looking for. Mulder was by my side, and that was all the reassurance
I needed. I felt safe. I felt at home, just being with him. I felt like I
feel now, with him cuddled up in my arms.

I know now what answer I'll give him tomorrow. A weight is lifted off
my shoulders, and I fall back into sleep, the man pressed against me
insurance of pleasant dreams.




End