********************************
Chapter Thirteen: Lullaby
********************************
6:12 PM
Mulder glanced at his watch. Joshua had been inside for over
fifteen minutes. He was beginning to feel it would be a good
idea just to leave. Joshua could call for a car, after all. He
didn't want himself and Scully to pressure the situation.
Joshua had enough to deal with this afternoon.
No sooner had he begun to reach for the handle when Joshua
came out the front door of the house, closing it behind him.
Mulder hadn't seen his mother in the doorway.
Joshua kept his eyes down as he made for the rear door,
sliding into the backseat and shutting it firmly, bringing a
hand over his eyes.
Mulder looked over his shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked
softly.
Joshua shook his head briefly. "Just get me away from here,"
he whispered. Mulder exchanged a look of concern with
Scully and started the engine.
###
Marina Flat
6:32 PM
"Look, Scully. Take the car. I'm going to start my shift early.
Don't bother calling Dillmont," Mulder told his partner,
handing her the keys as he let Joshua go on ahead up into his
flat. "I think he could use a friend right now."
Scully regarded him thoughtfully a moment. She seemed
almost sad. "You're right, Mulder. I'll just..." she paused,
stumbling over the words.
"What's wrong, Scully?" he asked, feeling his chest clenching
for the confrontation he wasn't nearly ready to face yet.
She was looking up the street, avoiding his eyes. "I'll take
care of the evidence. Just..." she dropped her eyes and
sighed. "You're a good friend to him, Mulder. Take care of
him, okay?" She managed a smile and Mulder felt his entire
body relax. Impulsively, he reached out and brushed her
cheek lightly with his thumb. She looked up at him and
smiled warmly. "Goodnight, Mulder," she said with a tone of
affection he hadn't heard from her in a long while, like a C-
minor chord, both sad and sweet.
"Goodnight, Scully," he replied with a gentle smile, and
headed for the stairs to the flat.
*******************************
Joshua was in the shower, his clothes left thrown on the end
of the bed. Mulder took off his coat and sat back in one of
Joshua's big comfortable chairs, waiting for him to come out.
Through the echoing spray of the water Mulder could hear an
occasional muffled sound of frustration or grief delivered to
the tiled walls. Over a quarter of an hour later, the water
hushed, but it was several long minutes before Joshua
emerged--dried, robed and downcast.
"Are you all right?" Mulder asked him, as he watched Joshua
slip out of his robe and into a fresh loose cotton shirt and
pair of undershorts. The musician's back was to him, but he
nodded as he sat heavily on the edge of the bed, his posture
betraying his exhaustion.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all that today."
Joshua turned his head so Mulder could see his face in
profile. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed and he would not
look at him directly. "Are you?" Joshua asked, bitterly.
Mulder stood and came over to sit at the edge of the bed,
and put his arm around Joshua, pulling him into a hug. He
felt Joshua's tension begin to ease as the musician gradually
surrendered against his side, lowering his dark head and
wrapping his arms around him in need. Mulder held him
quietly, stroking his back. After a while he felt Joshua begin
to breathe more steadily, calming against him.
"Family is never easy," Mulder said into the man's hair.
Joshua gave a short, bitter laugh and sat up, laying his hand
over Mulder's. "Especially mine," he said sadly, shifting to lay
down on the bed. "I know in my heart that I'm supposed to
love her and care about her because she's my mother--for no
other reason than that. But tell me how I'm supposed to feel
kindly toward someone who chose to stand beside the one
person in my life who hurt me the most?"
Mulder regarded Joshua, conveying understanding. "I know
how hard it can be to learn to trust someone who failed to
protect you as a child. All I can say is that I know just how
difficult it can be to forgive *yourself* for being the one who
failed to provide that protection."
"You're speaking from experience," Joshua said in
realization.
Mulder lowered his head. He sat still, summoning the
courage to describe it. "You asked me once if I had ever
killed a woman..." Joshua eased himself up on his elbow,
drawing closer to Mulder, trying to catch his eyes. "I haven't,
but I've come very close."
"What happened?" Joshua asked softly.
Mulder's face rippled with a wave of deep remorse and self-
reproach before he spoke--so quietly, he wondered if Joshua
could hear him. "In all my training as an agent, all my drilled
responses...there was a case with a man, a sick man who got
inside my head and turned all those honed skills against me.
He turned me into a weapon against myself, against my
partner--the only person in this godforsaken world who
would ever draw fire from me--and he made me turn my
instinct on her. I stared her right in the face and held my
weapon at her head, Joshua...she was wearing a goddamned
vest and I knew it and aimed for her head..." He bit the inside
of his lip, trying to gather the words and force them out. "He
had tapped into every known weakness in me...my wounds,
my childhood fears...he made me see her as an enemy and I
believed him because those false truths were buried in me.
My head was screaming for me to let go and act...to save
myself, to save her..."
Joshua started to reach for his hand, but paused as Mulder
glanced at him with a look that said 'wait.' "She stopped me,
Joshua; I have no idea how she knew to do what she did
because in my mind she was already dead. I saw her dead and
bleeding on the floor. Afterwards, months later, I was still
haunted by that vision and just how close it came to being a
reality."
"You've never forgiven yourself."
Mulder shook his head. "Nor will I. It's something I'll always
carry with me."
"I had no idea...I'm sorry; I've been callous with you."
Mulder managed a half-felt grin. "I'm not trying to one-up
you, Joshua. We all have our own sins to bear. I doubt the
weight of living is felt any lighter one person to another. All
we can do is try to keep going, doing our best. Death comes
when we're ready to give up that load."
"I'm not nearly ready, Mulder. I want you to know that."
Mulder took Joshua's hand briefly and let it go, nodding.
"Neither am I."
"Will you lie down with me? Just for a while?" Joshua asked
quietly. His lapis eyes were softened from grief, vulnerable. "I
can't seem to summon the energy to finish dressing."
Mulder loosened his tie and smiled. "Move over, then."
###
8:55 PM
Joshua woke a few hours later to the smell of melted cheese
and spicy meat. He opened a lazy eye, still burning a little
from the emotions he'd shed earlier in the day. He felt better
now, warm and sleepy, covered in a thick blanket. Mulder
was seated at the kitchen bar on a stool, his dress shirt
unbuttoned, revealing a white V-neck t-shirt. He was
bouncing a knee and flipping through a magazine while
taking a bite from a slice of what Joshua knew to be pizza--a
delivered pizza. The big soggy box was sitting on his kitchen
countertop next to a six-pack of cola. So this is what happens
if I sleep through the dinner hour, he thought, amused. My
guardian reverts to his feral state. Good Lord, that wasn't a
paper plate Mulder was dining off of, was it?
Joshua sat up, the blanket sliding from his shoulder where it
had been carefully tucked. "Please tell me you're not eating
pepperoni in my house," he said, sliding his bare feet to the
cold floor and stretching into a standing position.
Mulder looked over at him. "Nope, this is Luigi's finest--
sausage, mushrooms and olives. I saved you some," he
grinned, flapping his slice at him from across the room.
"Ugh," Joshua commented, yawning, and pulled on his robe
to come join Mulder on a stool, facing him from the
opposite side of the bar.
"Cola?" Mulder offered, reaching for the six-pack behind
him. He slipped a frosty can from its plastic ring and set it in
front of Joshua on the counter, popping the tab with one
hand. It fizzed over onto the smooth polished tile, leaving a
tan ring.
Joshua started to get up. "Let me get a cup..."
Mulder stilled him with a hand on his wrist and a smirk. "Sit.
Just once I want to see you drink out of a can."
Joshua looked uncomfortably at the cola top fizzing with
carbonated run-off. He wasn't expected to suck that off first,
was he? Who knew where that can had been. "My fingers will
get sticky," he said, pointedly.
Mulder snorted. "Excuse me? You'll stick your fingers in my
ass, but you won't touch the side of an aluminum can? What
planet were you raised on?"
Joshua tried to look offended and valiantly gripped the cold
can in his right hand. With an obstinate raise of his brows, he
lifted the soda to his mouth, taking a quick series of gulps.
He set it down, triumphantly smug, but was soon mortified
by an unexpected belch that rose up from his belly. He
clamped a hand over his mouth, catching the burp just shy of
announcing itself with a loud rabble. He blinked against the
carbonation sting in his throat before he spoke in a strangled
voice. "God, I hate soda."
Mulder was beside himself with low chuckles over his
companion's faux pas. "Don't tell me you've never let one go
in public before, Joshua. I won't believe it," he said, wiping
part of the ridiculous grin from his own face with a napkin.
"Here, try the pizza. I can't wait to see what you do with
this."
Mulder peeled off a delivered paper plate and flimsy napkin
and set them in front of him. The top right corner of the
napkin was soggy from God-only-knew-what and the Dali-
esque pizza slice Mulder plopped on the plate didn't begin to
have a serviceable edge to lift from. "I suppose a request for
a fork will go un-honored," Joshua said, trying to stay stoic,
but the enjoyment he saw reflected in Mulder's hazel
challenge made the request impossible to resist. Hell, he'd
eat cold Spam out of the can if it made this man happy.
Joshua peered at his slice and began to poke at an olive with
his index finger. "I hate olives, too."
"There's no pleasing you, is there?" Mulder teased.
"That's *not* true," Joshua said, lifting the flimsy plate and
dipping his head toward the rubbery cheese to shove the
slice over the edge and in the general direction of his mouth.
He bit down and pulled back quickly, but not quick enough
to stop a long string of cheese from clinging to his chin. He
set the plate down and quickly retrieved the dairy garland
with a grunt. He popped it in his mouth and chewed. "This
isn't even real mozzarella--it's a Monterey Jack substitute,"
he mumbled, figuring talking with his mouth full would
probably thrill the agent as well.
Mulder applauded him with a lively nod. "Not bad. Good
form. Nice work with the cheese, although you could have
done without the gourmet review."
Joshua smiled and shrugged, taking another big bite, licking
the sauce off his upper lip. "I didn't say it wasn't tasty...to a
certain palate."
"The oil and cheese palate?"
Joshua nodded, reaching for his napkin. At the last second he
decided against the mystery stain and grabbed a paper towel
off the roller to his left instead. "Thank you, Mulder. I'm
feeling much better now."
Mulder smiled at him and took a swig from his own cola,
downing it and crushing the can in his fist. "Remind me to
take you to a Giants game sometime. I'll show you the finer
points of devouring a ballpark frank with hot mustard and
extra pickle relish."
"I'll hold you to that," Joshua replied, fondly recalling falling
asleep against this man's side a few hours ago. "If there's
ever a way to please me, I'm sure you'll find it."
###
They finished off the pizza together and Joshua managed to
survive sucking down the rest of the can of soda. They
laughed and chatted about nothing important throughout the
remainder of their meal--not the case, not his mother or
grandfather or Nanette, not a thing that had draped such a
heavy shadow over Joshua's life earlier that day. It pleased
Joshua that Mulder could be so easy to just be with. He'd
never been with someone who took so naturally to the
domestic side of life. It amazed him to watch Mulder wipe
down the counter and pack out the pizza debris with the
trash. Yes, it was nice to have a man around the house.
Joshua felt a genuine rush of happiness when they eventually
fell onto the bed, half-naked and kissing. There had been a
brief toothpaste battle in the bathroom that had left Joshua's
sink a mess of blue smears. But he didn't care one bit as he
relished the feel of Mulder's spearminted mouth on his, his
long arms holding him down on the bed as he felt the man
pressing against him, growing hard in his boxers. They rolled
about and kissed unhurriedly, taking a languid pace, enjoying
the night and the light and heavy feeling of being caressed
and gripped and tasted and licked with curiosity and
tenderness.
When they finally reached that heated state of deep arousal,
Joshua wanted to be taken again and rolled over onto his
back, inviting Mulder to face him between his legs. The
invitation was taken honorably, after some teasing
preparation, by the firm full thrust of the agent's cock and
the warm lubricated grip of his matching fist stroking him
over and over into a sheer humbling climax. Mulder took his
time finishing, kissing and fucking him slowly until his ass
ached in a most gratifying way and he could watch the man's
orgasm rise and come over him lap for lap like a deep swell
in the Bay, both shuddering and groaning with the depth of
pleasure it brought them.
*********************************
11:45 PM
Mulder lay on his back watching the streetlights and passing
cars reflecting white and red light against the windows.
Mulder supposed he should have gotten up and dressed
himself by now, but he wasn't quite ready to give up the
warmth and comfort of Joshua's bed--especially while Joshua
was still in it. The sleeping violinist was lying with his arm
thrown over Mulder's chest, with his lips against his
shoulder, leaving a warm moist spot growing with every deep
even breath (not that the man would ever admit to drooling).
Mulder knew he was getting sloppy with his duties, but
tonight he didn't care as much. He was too assuaged by the
calming effects of deeply satisfying sex and intimacy. They'd
spent a long time after the sex, just lying together, kissing
and touching, not wanting to move apart. It had felt
wonderful--being with Joshua made him feel strong and
important, valued, appreciated. It was nice to do something
right for someone for a change. He hoped the nature of the
case would ease up on Joshua from here on out--he never
wanted to put him through the emotional strain that visiting
his mother's house had brought him. Although all the pieces
had yet to connect, Mulder sensed they were very close to
finding a resolution. More than anything he wanted to bring
Joshua peace again, beyond the bedroom. For now he could
hold him and try to stay awake, while his weapon cast a
shadow across the wide headboard where it lay overhead,
ready.
###
Mulder woke to the sound of the violin. He opened his eyes,
reluctant to kill the soothing dreams the music was bringing
to his subconscious. Dreams...? Shit. He'd fallen asleep after
all. He leaned up on one elbow, rubbing his eyes. Joshua sat
at the foot of the bed, his back to him, playing the violin in
silhouette. The raw honestly in the slow sad music sounding
through the strings kept him from speaking, from
interrupting him. He eased his head back against the pillow
and just listened, enraptured, until Joshua finished, laying
the Stradivarius on the bedcover.
"That's beautiful; what was it?" Mulder asked quietly.
"I don't know..." Joshua answered, in a distant voice. "It just
came out of me. It wanted to be played. Although part of it I
believe was from a Russian lullaby my grandfather used to
play when I was very young. I thought I had forgotten it."
"Do you think you could remember it? I'd love to hear it
again."
Joshua shook his head. "I don't think I can...It's breaking my
heart." He sounded like he was on the verge of tears and got
up to put the instrument away. He stood naked and pale
against the dark sweep of the piano.
"Joshua?"
The violinist turned, releasing a heavy sigh.
"Come back to bed."
***************************************
********************************
Chapter Fourteen: Vintage
********************************
3:35 AM
It was nearing four AM, a time of morning Joshua had come
to dread. He had been unable to get back to sleep after his
improv a few hours ago. He was lying on his side next to
Mulder, who was now dressed and leaning back against the
headboard on pillows, typing in his laptop. The glow of the
monitor cast a bluish tone over his unusually handsome face,
giving his eyes a curious doll-like transparency.
Joshua hadn't realized it at first, but Mulder had started his
shift a few hours early last evening, giving them more time
than usual together. Even so, Joshua felt himself wishing for
more, wishing for a time when Mulder wouldn't have to leave
him before dawn--a time when he could sleep next to him all
night and into a late morning with newspapers, coffee and
tousled hair. He wondered if that day would ever come, or if
this was all going to end when the guillotine over his head
disintegrated. It surprised Joshua how much the course of
this affair mattered to him. He usually accepted relationships
as they came, and was at peace with them when they went.
Yet here he was with someone whose duty was to show up
every night and he was already hoping and yearning for
more.
Over the years, Joshua had supposed the trust and security
he was seeking in a companion could only be found in the
female of the species, and he had spent over half a decade
looking for a commitment there. But deep down, he knew the
only times he had completely lost himself had been during
those few, brief heated grapplings with members of his own
sex. It was the only way to get at the core of him, to set free
that soul-deep release. More often than not, he'd awake cold
and alone wishing for a male lover who could extend those
needs into the waking hours, to become more than a hard
body, but a friend, a confidant. He knew it meant his job to
stay alert, but Joshua longed to unshackle Mulder from his
professional obligations, and in freeing themselves, see what
roles they would assume. An idea quickly formed in his head
and he sat up.
"Mulder, call your partner, tell her not to come."
Mulder looked up from his laptop. "You know I can't do that,
Joshua. We're on shifts."
"Then let's take you off shift. I have tomorrow... or today,
rather... off. Let's get the hell out of here for the day; no one
will be the wiser."
"You mean leave San Francisco?"
"Yes, if the threat is here in town, then let's leave town. I'll
take you up to Sonoma, show you a thing or two about
grapes. It's beautiful this time of year; the vines will be
changing colors."
Mulder tapped his space bar--he was thinking it over.
"I'm not under house arrest. If I want to leave town I can,
right? You can offer to take the watch for the day."
Mulder rubbed his forehead. "What do I tell Scully?"
"Tell her she has the day off."
The agent gave him a sarcastic look. "That's going to be just
to the left side of normal for me. She's certain to be
suspicious."
Joshua flopped over on his back, grinning like an errant
child. "What does she think we're going to do in Sonoma,
sleep together?"
Mulder pursed his lips. "You do have a point."
"Come on, you deserve it," he said, running his hand over
Mulder's thigh. "We'll go back to your hotel so you can
change and shower. I'll call for the car to meet us there by
six. We'll get an early breakfast and head on up. It's about a
two-hour drive; you can sleep on the way."
###
Marriott Hotel
5:10 AM
Mulder emerged from the hotel bathroom to find Joshua
flipping through the suits in his closet. "Where's the suit you
wore the night we went to Berkeley?" Joshua asked over the
whir of the hairdryer. Somehow, Mulder had gone to bed
with a man and woken up with a wife. Oddly, he just didn't
mind all that much--at least Joshua noticed what he wore.
"The dark blue one, far right."
"That's it." Joshua removed the hanger and laid it out on the
bed while Mulder finished drying his hair, a towel tucked
around his waist. Joshua looked at the suit and then at
Mulder in the towel with poorly disguised lust. "I love you in
blue. You have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you that
night."
"As early as that?" Mulder asked, shutting off the blow-dryer
and letting the towel drop carelessly. He walked over to sit
on the edge of the bed, slipping into a pair of boxers. Joshua
didn't miss a beat of it, either. He certainly had a thing for
his cock, and he wasn't about to be shy about it.
"I pretty much wanted to fuck you from the start. Kissing
you, however, took longer to decide. Ten to fifteen minutes
later I think," he grinned, still eyeing the bulge as it slid into
dark navy wool. "You drove me crazy that first night we were
together in my bed, wanting your mouth."
"Why didn't you just...I don't know...ask me?"
Joshua cupped his own chin, thinking. "I don't know. I was
afraid you'd be offended. Not all men like to be kissed like
that. It's easy to get a man to give you his cock; his mouth on
the other hand, is a whole other matter. The act of kissing is
much more intimate."
Mulder nodded in agreement as he put on a crisp white shirt
and then his socks and shoes. Kissing Joshua had certainly
rushed him a great deal farther along this path he was now
charging right up without much caution. He wasn't going
away with Joshua today solely because he had been asked. He
wanted to see if he felt any different being away from his job
and other obligations, namely Scully. He wanted to see if he
could gain some distance from the guilt and the fear he'd
never be able to explain this situation with Joshua to her. It
didn't help matters that he was dressing in front of his lover
just a few doors up the hall from her room where she was
hopefully still sleeping in.
He'd called Scully on his cell earlier while they were taking a
cab back to the Marriott. He'd told her Joshua was heading
out of town and he might as well tag along, dutiful agent that
he was. He hated deceiving her about it and felt even more
foolish when he resorted to Joshua's dialogue suggestion
about telling her to just take the day off.
"You're kidding, Mulder. You're asking me to spend an entire
Monday off the clock. What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"I dunno, Scully. There's plenty of things to do in the city.
You could catch a movie, a show, a ...." In the backseat next
to him, Joshua mouthed the word 'zoo.' "Go to the zoo, lots
of stuff to see there." God, he was a miserable liar.
Mulder slipped on his coat and clipped on his holster. "Tie or
no tie?" he asked his fashion consultant.
"Hmm, no tie...I like seeing a little flesh. It's like getting an
early peek at a birthday present."
Mulder had to laugh at that comment as he picked up his
wallet, badge and keys. God, this was getting fucking weird,
he thought with humor--*Wake up Mulder, you have a
boyfriend.* And a rather talented and attractive one at that.
Joshua was looking especially striking in a dark thick
charcoal wool coat and slacks. He wore a finely tailored pale
yellow linen shirt, sans tie. Joshua was quite a gift to behold
himself, and Mulder was finally beginning to really appreciate
it. He was looking forward to being with him someplace
beyond the SFPD and FBI beat. "Why don't you head down to
the lobby while I slip some paperwork under Scully's door."
Joshua nodded and with an amused smile, reached for the
doorhandle. As he passed him, Mulder added, "I just hope for
your sake, that San Francisco really does have a zoo."
"It does," Joshua insisted, pulling the door shut behind them.
###
Joshua and Mulder enjoyed a quick breakfast in the hotel
lounge before heading out to wait for the car that pulled up
at exactly 6:00 AM. It was a short black limousine not
dissimilar from the one they took to the Cliff House the eve
of Joshua's surprise party.
"This certainly falls a few yards short of inconspicuous,"
Mulder commented, sliding onto the dark leather after
Joshua.
"You'd be surprised, Mulder. Lots of visitors take hired cars
to the Napa and Sonoma valleys. You get choice parking and
don't have to worry about sampling yourself silly."
"Well, I don't know about all that sampling myself. I'm still
armed," Mulder yawned, crossing his arms, waiting for the
car's heater to unthaw him from the ten minutes they'd
stood out front. He closed his eyes. It was a cold clear
autumn day with a blustering wind that seemed to come up
out of nowhere. He'd avoided the warming effects of coffee
at breakfast so he could catch a nap.
"Mulder, I told you. I want you off-duty today. Expect to be
liberally plied with wine, cheese and chocolate. Besides, I
asked my driver to bring his weapon today."
Mulder opened his eye, concerned. "What?"
"It's okay," Joshua assured him, lowering the privacy shield.
"He's a licensed security guard. He's worked for me many
times. Andy, show Mulder your gun."
Mulder leaned forward to see the driver was indeed packing.
He gave Joshua a dissatisfied look and raised the screen back
into its closed position. "Joshua, I don't like this at all," he
whispered, although it was unnecessary; the driver couldn't
hear them unless the comm was on. "I don't know this man."
Joshua leaned over and squeezed his hand. "It's all right.
Trust me. I've known Andy for years--he's fine. He's safe. I
want you to relax today, have a good time."
Mulder settled himself back into the seat, closing his eyes. "I
would prefer it if you had asked me about this ahead of time.
I could have run a background check."
"I'm sorry," Joshua said, rubbing his hand soothingly. "I want
just this one day. Then we're back under your orders, okay?"
Mulder nodded reluctantly, and reclaiming his hand, soon
began to drift off to sleep.
###
8:45 AM
Aside from waking during a quick stop at the bank for
Joshua to pick up a "shameless amount of spending cash,"
Mulder slept the entire ride up, the smooth rolling of the car
lulling him into a surprisingly refreshing two-hour nap.
Joshua woke him with a gentle nudge once the car came to a
full stop.
Mulder straightened up, blinking. "Where are we?"
"On top of the world," Joshua smiled, throwing open his
door. "Come have a look."
Mulder slid out of the car and got to his feet, taking a
stretch. He could hardly believe what his eyes saw when they
came into focus. They were parked at the top of a tall hill
surrounded by white marble channels of running water,
cascading down the hillside over descending steps into
rectangular pools with spraying fountains. The crest of the
hill was pyramid-shaped, covered in fresh manicured grass
set with windows and terraces and rose gardens--a geometric
palace built into the peak of a hill. He'd never seen
architecture quite like it before.
Turning around, he realized they were surrounded on all four
sides by low rolling hills corduroyed in a patchwork of
grapevines. The vines were freshly harvested, but still
bedecked in their wide pointed leaves, all painted in various
shades of burnt orange, red, burgundy, forest green, and
earthy browns--each patch taking on its own combined and
distinctive color--block for block over the landscape. The
short, thick, twisted espaliered vines stood proud, in row
after row like old children joining hands, stretching across
the verdant slopes. It looked like Eden.
"Welcome to Bundschu Vineyard, Mulder," Joshua said,
enjoying his awed reaction to waking in such a place. "They
make damn good sparkling wine here."
"God..." was the only thing he could think to say about it.
"Yes, I do believe we have a higher power to thank for the
rest."
Joshua had picked up a thermos of coffee at some point on
the way up and offered a cup to Mulder, who took it, still
trying to convince himself he wasn't dreaming. He sipped it
slowly, watching a flock of starlings swirling like schooling
fish through the cold blue air, coming to light on the rows
upon rows of vines running along the vineyard hillside.
"The winery doesn't open for another twenty minutes. We
can have a seat at the fountains and enjoy the air."
Mulder followed him down the white stone steps to the
closest fountain pool and had a seat on the low wall. The
water was flickering circles of yellow morning sunlight across
the shallow tiled bottom.
Mulder took in the view and the coffee, feeling himself finally
coming alert as the hot beverage warmed his belly. Joshua
sat near him on his left, wrapped in his heavy wool coat
watching the birds, while the fountain rushed to his right,
hitting them with an occasional light mist. "I love Sonoma,"
Joshua said. "I'm glad I was able to bring you here. Do you
feel rested? I plan on running you all over the valley."
"Pour me another cup and I'll be ready to go."
###
The inside of the hill was as beautiful and unusual as the
exterior. Mulder stood under a long skylight looking down at
the thin clouds reflected in a slate-bottomed pool lapping at
his feet. He'd just finished touring a display of centuries-old
casks and antiquated grape presses and barrels. Everywhere
he went, he smelled the musty rich scent of fermenting
grapes.
Joshua was at the tasting counter trying to decide between
the extra dry or medium dry bubbling wine. He tried to
persuade him to come have a taste, but Mulder opted for the
water glass and biscotti instead--the coffee was still too fresh
in his stomach. Joshua collected him after he made his
purchase and they headed out from the palace in the hill, on
to the next engineering wonder.
Each of the wineries they stopped at had a selection of four
or five bottles open for tasting. They stood together at the
long bars crowded with visitors, sipping and listening as the
viticulturists poured and explained the importance of
temperature, soil and air-- or why each wine was fruity, dry,
sweet, oakey, or reminiscent of watermelon, peaches, or
chocolate.
Joshua was standing close at his side at a long bar, swirling a
cabernet under his nose a few times before taking a small
sip. "This is an especially complex red. The vineyards here at
St. Supré are over 75 years old. Their roots go very deep,
picking up flavor essences in the soil. This cab has an oakey
taste with both raspberry and chocolate overtones." He
handed his glass to Mulder. "Try it." Mulder took a sip. It
tasted incredible, but he couldn't say it was anything like
chocolate.
"It's good," he said, handing the glass back. "But I'm just not
tasting the Hershey's."
Joshua finished off the swallow. "It takes some practice.
You'll get the hang of it. I think I'll get a few bottles for Andy.
He enjoys a good cab."
After a while, the visits all began to blur together. Joshua
knew his wineries and grapes from Clos du Bois's
Johannisberg Riesling to Lytton Spring's Gewurztraminer. The
landscaping and structure of the wineries were both eclectic
and traditional--from a hall built of piled wire-wrapped
stone, to the dark and wet musty caverns of Ravenswood.
Mulder remembered one with a large frog pond that he and
Joshua walked around to sit at a bench near some willow
trees. There were old stone manors covered in vines and
homesteads surrounded by manicured Elizabethan knot
gardens and white fences. Mulder followed him about in a
pleasant wine-induced buzz the majority of the afternoon,
just enjoying the exceptional scenery. He had told himself to
take it easy on the alcohol, but Joshua was always there at
his side at the tasting table swirling "just a sip of Gamay" or
"you must try this Merlot." The deal was you were welcome
to dump the remainder of your glass into a tureen, and they
often did, but all those little sips add up over time. By
midday, Mulder surrendered his gun to the driver, officially
retiring from duty until his head cleared or Joshua had his
fill of buying up bottles of wine.
"My collection's been getting low," he explained, handing
Andy his gift of selected Cabernet along with another
handbox of late harvest dessert wines to load into the leaden
trunk.
###
The chill in the air made the contrasting interior of the warm
car cozy and inviting. There was hot cider and slices of
cheese to be enjoyed between stops along with warming hand
rubs, cold noses and deep, flavorful kisses.
"I knew you would be good to kiss," Joshua said, shifting
back on the seat, catching his breath from a particularly
intense round of oral contact that had left them both blurry-
eyed and aroused. They were traveling up Highway 12,
cruising to the next port or sherry.
"How's that?" Mulder asked, cooling off by popping a
jalapeno-stuffed olive in his mouth.
"Because you have an honest face. There's a sincerity about
you, an openness I rarely see. You're not afraid to show
yourself. I enjoy that about you."
Mulder thought the compliment over as he discarded the
toothpick in a small bag, selecting a bite of sharp Gruyere,
chewing it thoughtfully. He swallowed. "You'd be surprised
how often that honesty gets my ass into trouble."
"How so?"
"I have difficulty keeping my opinions to myself."
"Such as...?"
"Well, my insistence on the existence of extra-terrestrial life
for one."
Joshua looked a bit stunned, yet somehow intrigued. "How
do you figure that for a fact?"
Mulder paused a second, then decided to take the leap. "I've
witnessed it."
Joshua gave a nervous laugh. "You're shitting me."
"No, I'm not shitting you. I've seen aliens. Lots of them." He
stole a glance at Joshua. The violinist was hovering over his
cider, about to take a sip. He cleared his throat instead and
set the cup back down in its holder.
"Where?" he asked, sounding both a little scared and awed.
"All over. They live here. With us."
Mulder gave Joshua a break while he tore himself off a
handful of baguette, chewing quietly.
"In California?"
Mulder grinned. "No, not in California. Much colder regions."
"What do they look like?"
"Four-and-a-half-feet tall, dark-gray skin, big lidless eyes,
large bald heads--you know, the usual," Mulder said,
casually, like he was describing a race of New Guinea
tribesmen.
Joshua blinked, trying to gain some logic over this turn in the
conversation. "What do they want?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out," Mulder said, regarding
him with reassurance like a father looking into the eyes of
his child when he tells him there's no such thing as monsters.
The problem was, there were.
"I don't... Shit, I can't believe it. But I do believe it, coming
from you. I'm thoroughly disturbed now, thank you."
"You still think kissing me is a good idea now that you know
my real reason for joining the FBI?"
Joshua quirked a half-formed smile. "God help me, I do."
###
In the heart of town Sonoma Square offered four blocks of
shops, cafes, galleries, and restaurants, plus an adobe
mission and even a cheese factory. Aside from clothing,
Mulder wasn't much of a shopper, so he tried not to get in
too much trouble with the bell pepper-shaped egg timers and
expandable sponges while Joshua set about buying up half of
what must have been the eleventh store they'd stepped into.
The driver had already taken three armfuls of bags back to
the car in the last hour and a half.
Assorted mustard-based condiments, a six-piece glassware
set, a blue and black melty-looking vase and a rubber duck
were being rung up while Joshua asked the sales clerk if the
dish towel set came in lime green. Feeling a tad out of the
loop, Mulder wandered outside to spy a used bookstore one
shop over. He sent a hand signal to Joshua who was fingering
a wreath of garlic (now that's something that might actually
come in handy) while he slipped away next door, leaving the
armed driver to keep an eye on him.
The bookshop had that comforting musty smell of old paper
and leather bindings Mulder loved. He inhaled fondly as he
made his narrow way back to the parapsychology shelving.
He had read most of the first and second chapters of Carl
Sagan's "The Demon-Haunted World" when he felt Joshua
sneak up from behind, pressing up against him in the quiet
corner, his chin on his shoulder. "Good book?" he asked.
"Interesting. I used to have a paperback copy. I don't know
what happened to it. Someone cleaned my bedroom a few
months ago and I haven't been able to find a damn thing
since."
"Then let me buy it for you."
Mulder shook his head, closing the book, easing back into
Joshua as he returned it to the shelf.
"I'm determined to buy you something today, you know."
Mulder chuckled. "I think you've bought most of the state of
California something today."
Joshua kissed the back of his neck. "I know you're bored. We
can get going. We have lunch reservations in Harrisburg in 30
minutes, anyway."
"I'm sorry about that. I know you said you didn't get the time
to shop very often. I shouldn't keep you from it. Go buy all
the dish towels you want."
"I did. They're for Nana. I don't cook, remember?" Joshua
said happily, giving him a warm hug. Mulder brought his chin
to his for a brief kiss before a large woman started to wander
into eye-shot and they moved apart. There was something so
indulgently sinful about nuzzling one's male lover in public,
Mulder thought. He couldn't deny the heady feeling Joshua's
close presence was stirring in his belly. Maybe they could get
a hotel room for a few hours after lunch? Or there was
always the back of the car. It had served them before.
He tugged Joshua's coat sleeve. "Let's get going."
###
They were being seated at Fantina's Ristorante in Harrisburg
when Mulder noticed Joshua had a bag stuffed in the inside
pocket of his coat. "What's that?" he asked as they took two
chairs opposite one another at a table near the windows
overlooking the Italian vegetable and herb garden.
"You didn't really think I was going to leave Sonoma without
buying you something, did you?"
Mulder set his napkin in his lap as the waiter brought their
bread and poured the ice water. "It's not the rubber duck, is
it?"
Joshua grinned and pulled out the bag, handing it across the
table to him. It looked like a book.
Mulder opened the bag and recognized the scent of the old
bookstore. "When the heck...?" He pulled it out. It wasn't the
Sagan after all, but an old thick book on classical music--
*The Lives of the Great Composers* by Schumann. He opened
the worn bound leather cover and looked inside. It was a first
edition, signed by the author. "Joshua, it's..."
"It's the first book I ever owned on the composers. My
grandfather bought me a copy when I was seven and used to
read it to me at night. I loved hearing about the madness of
Wagner and the licentious liaisons of Mozart. It's a wonderful
book, written by a man who actually knew many of the great
late nineteenth century composers when he was a court
pianist in Germany. I thought you'd like it."
Mulder was so deeply moved by the gift; he wasn't sure what
to say.
"Look at the cover engraving..."
Mulder closed the heavy leather cover. On the front was an
embossed image of a man with a long beard.
"That's a reproduction of a famous lithograph of Johannes
Brahms--the same one I saw hanging in the farm house over
the piano when I was a kid. See why I loved the book so
much?"
Mulder was beside himself with how to thank Joshua for
something so profoundly meaningful, to both of them. He
could hardly believe it was only five days ago that Joshua and
he had first begun to know one another, sitting in his flat
listening to him play the violin and talk about Beethoven. He
was so moved in fact, all he could think to do was make a
light joke. "I've heard you know it's time to question your
sexuality when another man starts buying you gifts."
Joshua grinned, pleased to no end. "It's taken a *book* to
bring this to your attention? I must be doing something
wrong."
"No, you've been doing everything right," Mulder said,
thoughtfully, passing his hand over the age-worn cover of the
book, feeling the ripple of the leather under his fingertips.
"Thank you, Joshua."
###
Their last stop of the day was Viansa, an Italian villa-style
winery that specialized in both fine foods and vino. The
upstairs room of the villa was packed with round tables and
tasting dishes and crackers for sampling sauces, dips,
condiments, and dressings. Joshua was in heaven, quickly
filling a hand basket with items such as garlic olive dipping
oil, peach-pineapple salsa and butter pecan ice cream
topping. Mulder almost lost him in the shuffle of nibblers a
few times, trying to catch his dark head behind the tall
harvest pumpkin and cornstalk centerpieces.
Mulder caught up with his companion, dropping a couple of
chilled bottles of spring water into the basket. "Here, Mulder,
try this." Joshua was holding a small fudge-dipped cracker to
his lips. He sucked it in quickly, trying to be discreet, but
wound up with a few centimeters of Joshua's middle finger in
his mouth. Joshua pulled it out slowly. "We'll definitely be
needing a jar of this."
"Joshua..." Mulder warned in a hushed voice. He saw an old
woman was giving them a pinched and disgusted look from
across the table. Joshua followed Mulder's gaze and laughed
silently, ecstatic they'd made someone squirm.
"Don't worry about it. I doubt that old woman's had a decent
roll in the hay in three decades," he whispered, moving away.
Mulder watched him, realizing he had a long way to go
before reaching Joshua's level of comfort with the nature of
their relationship. He doubted if he ever would be completely
comfortable--he was raised with too many biases and was
quite frankly, still amazed he found intimacy with a man this
surprisingly pleasurable. Was it just the lack of
companionship in his life for so many years that was making
him bond to Joshua, or was it simply the person? Would he
feel differently if Joshua were a woman? He told himself he
needed time before he could fully define the nature of his
emerging feelings. He doubted they would ever have it.
###
Mulder stood on the Viansa verandah waiting for Joshua to
ring his leaden basket through the checkout. The view from
here was similar to the one they'd started the day with, but
now the color of the sky was changing and the hills were
dusted with an aging golden light. They'd need to be heading
back soon. Joshua soon joined him at his point of
contemplation. He handed Mulder his water and set the bag
down while Mulder unscrewed the top and had a long drink.
Wine tended to leave one parched.
Joshua was quiet, looking out over the valley. "I don't want
to go back," he said.
"I can't blame you," Mulder said, watching the sun beginning
to swell into a deep orange-red as it touched the peaks of the
distant mountains.
"I want you to stay with me out here tonight, in the valley."
Mulder turned to meet Joshua's resolved expression. "You
know I don't think that's a good idea, Joshua."
"Why? What makes it any different from my flat?"
"I haven't slept," Mulder said, seriously.
"There's something I wanted today more than anything else,
but I've been waiting until now to ask you, because I wanted
to be sure...I wanted to know if you would be the same
outside of your duty to me as an agent. I wanted to know you
as a companion, a lover."
Mulder could feel an instinctive call for caution rising up his
spine, but the honesty in Joshua's eyes as he spoke softly to
him was quickly dissolving his reserve. "What is it you want?"
"I want to sleep with you. I want us to make love without a
time limit. I want to wake up with you in my arms and order
in breakfast. I want to feel what it's like to be with you as if
we had just met in a cafe and not under these bizarre
circumstances."
Mulder didn't know what to say. His gut was urging him to
refuse, while his heart was saying yes to the seductive image
Joshua was presenting. It would be nice to fall asleep with
someone. That was something normal people did. He wanted
that more than he could admit. "You've already made
arrangements," he realized.
Joshua gave him the faintest nod. He looked like he was
wagering his soul on this. It was damn difficult to refuse this
man anything, Mulder was discovering.
Mulder took another drink and screwed the cap back on the
water bottle. "So where are we staying? Better not be the
Napa Motel Six--I expect the best from you."
Joshua held the deepest gratitude in his tentative answering
smile. "I won't disappoint you."
###
Despite the fact Mulder had only three or four hours of sleep
in the past 24 hours, it was Joshua who gave up the struggle
to remain awake as they rode up to the far end of the
neighboring Napa Valley toward the mountainside resort of
Auberge du Soleil, their exclusive lodging for the evening.
Mulder watched the aisles of vines flicker past the window
like a shuffled desk of playing cards, while Joshua breathed
quietly in his ear from where he had nestled against his side
to sleep. Mulder found it hard not to watch him, unguarded
and relaxed. That ten-year-old boy became visible when the
violinist slept.
*He loves you,* Mulder told himself. It made him feel
remarkably good. In Mulder's life, being loved openly by
someone was a rare and beautiful thing. Tonight, he intended
to cherish it.
###
Their room was covered wall to curved ceiling in terra-cotta
stucco framed by rough solid beams of oak. Blocks cut from
aged wine barrels burned steadily in the stone fireplace next
to the bed, setting off a rich earthy scent. Four square white
paned windows looked out over the patchwork of Napa
Valley vineyards at twilight. Mulder removed his long coat
and hung it over a chair. Joshua came over from where he
had been sitting, watching the fire blaze up, and touched his
wrist. His cheek to his, he whispered, "Do you want dinner or
me now? I'm hungry for both."
Mulder lowered his head until his nose touched Joshua's
hair. "Dinner first. We have all night for the rest."
###
A white tablecloth, two chairs, candlelight and three courses
later, they were back in the room, an opened bottle of
Orange Muscat forgotten on the hearth. The softness of the
bed sheets welcomed them as their skin glowed with firelight
and reflected the glistening trails where mouths had met
flesh. Slowly, they took turns tasting each other like so many
sips of wine. They had arrived at this haven unprepared, so
lips and tongues and fingers worked unhurriedly, each taking
possession of the other in turn. Like a canon duet, they
brought one another to the edge of release and then with a
caress or soothing rub, calmed, to change hands and begin
again with a slow, deep kiss.
Mulder came to understand why Joshua took such care with
himself. He was amazingly sensitive to the places where
Mulder was licking him now with lazy intent. Joshua's balls,
wet with saliva and melting loose under the warmth of his
tongue, ached with each passing of his mouth. Mulder rolled
him then, when the feeling became unbearable, and spread
his legs, continuing the tastings along his perineum to the
sensitive rim of his anus, almost like a clit, begging to be
soothed and teased.
It was something Mulder was good at, something he knew
would please, and with the removal of the 4 AM hourglass
and thoughts of Scully out of his head, he became fully lost
in it, tuned only to the soft cries of pleasure coming from the
man held captive under his slow ministrations. He had no
intention of letting him go for a long, long while.
###
Mulder should have known that the rubber duck would make
an appearance before the night was over. It was rocking on
the water rippling the reflection of the dimmed bulb lighting
overhead. Just under the duck's squeakable ass, Mulder
could see the outline of his legs scissored between Joshua's.
The younger man reclined with a washcloth over his eyes at
the opposite end of the large tub. He watched as his
companion reached out with a lazy hand to grope for the
bottle of lemon Calistoga and bring it to his lips, taking
several large swallows.
"I think," Joshua started to say, after he'd downed half of it.
"I think I might have had too much to drink today."
"Headache?"
"Not just yet, but I feel something coming on--an involuntary
clenching at the temples. I think I'll be in for it tomorrow. I
really don't hold wine very well...the sulfides..."
Mulder freed his legs causing the water to kick up into
waves. Joshua grumbled from under his towel. "Stop
moaning and turn around."
Joshua sat up, leaning his head over so the washcloth
plopped into the slightly steaming water. He turned around
and leaned back against his lover, nestling himself between
his legs. "What are you going to do?"
"Shh...just lie still."
Joshua complied, lying limp against Mulder while he poured
a little herbed bath oil into his palm, smoothing it between
his hands and then applying it with his fingers across
Joshua's forehead, rubbing in tight circles at his temples.
Joshua made a sound of utter contentment and relaxed even
further until his chin touched the surface of the water. "Does
that help?" Mulder asked, repeating the motions and then
journeying down the back of the violinist's head to rub the
tendons at the base of his neck.
"Shit...you have incredible hands," he answered between
grunts of pleasure.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should--your hands were the first thing I noticed about
you. You have a pianist's hands, long and perfect, excellent
for hitting octaves. And other important notes of interest..."
"Don't start," Mulder chided, slipping his hands forward to
rub Joshua's jaw and chin.
"Mwy?" he tried to ask.
"Because, you're spent."
"Wrong again, agent." Joshua took Mulder's right hand and
dipped it down deep into the warm water.
"Shit..." Mulder commented, feeling both impressed and old
while he was examining the evidence. "What I wouldn't give
to be thirty again. And you've had too much wine."
"Hmm...never been a problem for me. I feel I should tell you I
only drink when I'm especially happy. Or in Sonoma. Today, I
was both."
"Well, I wasn't exactly reserved myself. Oh, crap."
"What?"
"Andy still has my weapon."
"We'll go next door and get it in a minute. I'm enjoying this
too much right now."
"So am I."
"I have a confession to make."
"What?"
"There's something I still want from you."
"And that's..." Mulder stopped when he realized what that
was. He dipped his head to talk against the top of Joshua's
head. "I thought you preferred...um--I hate trying to find the
right words--the bottom?"
"Usually, but not all the time. One of most incredible aspects
of sex between men is the ability to switch roles. You can
keep stroking me by the way; I was enjoying that."
Mulder resumed manipulating Joshua under the water. Just
discussing fucking him was getting the young man solid in a
big hurry, not to mention the palpable stirring within
himself. Perhaps there was still some youth left in him. "Well,
I'll try anything once, but don't we need supplies?"
Joshua moaned and began to thrust into Mulder's hand.
"Your call. I've tested clean for six years since my last male
lover and there's plenty of bath oil."
"Am I going to smell like rosemary tomorrow?" he joked.
"God, I hope so."
Joshua sat up and pulled the drain. Mulder made to stand.
"Sit," Joshua told him. "I'm just going to warm us up and
lower the water table. I want you here, where I can see you."
Mulder gave him a strange, but acquiescing look and sat back
in the water on his knees.
Joshua turned on the hot tap and reset the plug. "Listen. Not
everyone goes for this. If it bothers you, let me know, okay?"
Mulder gave him a nervous grin. "Okay."
When the water had filled, Joshua took a folded towel down
off the rack and dropped it into the water. "For your knees,"
he explained, and turning Mulder around, he began to touch
and kiss his shoulders much like he did that first night on the
piano bench.
"God, I love your back. Beautiful..." Mulder could feel
Joshua's erection nudging against him as he gently bent him
forward and over, giving him access to his ass. "Put a towel
under your head," he suggested. "Get comfortable." Mulder
took his advice and lay against the wide edge of the bath,
settling his head in his arms upon a thick towel, closing his
eyes.
Joshua began by pouring a few droplets of bath oil over his
exposed back and ass, massaging it into his skin, kneading
the muscles and tendons, releasing his tension, relaxing him.
His chest was lying comfortably against the gentle sloping
back of the tub. The fact he was half-submerged gave him an
embryonic feel, like he was floating, secure. It was so quiet in
the room, he nearly went to sleep while Joshua massaged him
between his shoulder blades and down his spine, taking his
time. He could hear the tap dripping and the gentle whoosh
of water as Joshua moved behind him. He felt the violinist's
fingers slide between the cheeks of his ass, rubbing oil from
his anus to balls, giving the area a warm, slick, sensual coat.
The slippery sensation of hands and fingers rolling over his
balls, ass and cock, fingering, tugging gently, brought him
back from twilight and into the first stages of arousal. All the
while Joshua was murmuring softly to him against his skin,
kissing him, telling him how beautiful his body was, how
strong and masculine--exactly what he loved to fuck.
The musician leaned in, resting his aroused cock between the
cheeks of his ass, beginning to thrust slowly, running the
shaft past his anus, getting him used to the sensation of
having some pressure and weight directed toward such a
vulnerable and untested part of his body. It felt good and
Mulder turned his head to the side to reward his lover with a
low moan.
"I thought you might like this," Joshua whispered, his hands
reaching under the water to flick over his flat nipples. "Are
you ready for more?"
###
Seeing the man exposed and submissive before him was
almost like a dream. Joshua felt he could spend hours
running his hands over the long plane of Mulder's back, or
the narrow firmness of the well-formed muscles of his ass
and thighs. Joshua found himself in the grips of the strongest
physical attraction he'd ever felt for another person. Mulder
was beautiful in every way possible to him. He was so
desperately amorous for him right now, after their long day
together, he almost regretted not waiting longer until Mulder
had a chance to sleep. He figured after this Mulder would
most certainly be signing off for the night and Joshua could
only imagine himself waking a few hours from now, naked
against him in the bed, wanting more. There was something
he hadn't told Mulder--that although he'd had lovers enter
him, he himself hadn't had the pleasure of fucking a man
since the night he lost his virginity when he was seventeen.
He'd been waiting for this a long time.
Mulder seemed relaxed and ready for more, so he sat back
and replaced the gentle friction over Mulder's tight puckered
anus with the pad of his thumb, circling it over the muscle,
easing it, then gently pressing in. Mulder responded well to
that feeling, having experienced Joshua's fingers in previous
nights. He loved touching Mulder this way, feeling him inside,
pink and warm and beautiful--something that was impossible
to describe to most men who tended to associate their
assholes with foul and unclean imagery. Joshua had known
men who would think nothing of fucking him deep and hard,
but wouldn't allow that same vulnerable invitation to be
offered from themselves. This was a rare treat indeed.
In a minute he exchanged his thumb for his index finger and
slid in deep, letting his other hand take hold of Mulder's
cock, stroking him slowly, from base to tip, careful not to
oversensitize the head. He smiled when he felt the man under
him begin to rock back into his probing, so he added another
finger, sliding them in all the way and spreading them out on
the retreat, stretching the tiny ring of muscle, teasing some
give out of it. Bending his fingers, he found Mulder's prostate
gland, massaging it gently, moaning a little along with Mulder
as he felt his cock harden solid in his hand.
###
Mulder felt two fingers become three, and although it was
more than what he was used to feeling over the past few
nights, Joshua's slow but steady pace kept him relaxed
enough to not mind the extra pressure in his rectum, which
had seemed impossibly tight at first but was now noticeably
softer and more open. It wasn't half bad, this sliding, deep
feeling, and the occasional motions against his prostate sent
a shock of astounding arousal from deep in his groin through
to the head of his penis. Mulder wondered why he had never
pursued anal penetration with women or explored himself on
his own for that matter. He supposed it was another of those
cultural biases--to touch one's own ass in pleasure was
somehow dirty, evil and wrong. What utter nonsense. Joshua
was right about him, he needed to expand his thinking. He'd
wasted nearly forty years not knowing this side of his
sexuality. It felt almost like a rebirth.
"I'm going to try you now," Joshua said, slowly sliding his
fingers out. "Tell me if it feels wrong." Mulder nodded,
murmuring his assent and opened his heavy eyes. If he
turned his head just right he could see Joshua kneeling back
and lubricating his cock with oil. It was a gorgeous sight to
see those hands at work. He seemed to be taking his time
with it, taking some pleasure for himself. God, now watching
a man masturbate himself was turning him on, what next?
Well, he knew what next--if those Oxford boys could see him
now.
"Are you watching me, Mulder?"
"Yeah."
"Good, because one of the hardest things to get used to as a
man is not being able to see what's happening to you. We're
visual creatures. Feeling without watching is foreign to us."
He came back up and Mulder lost his glistening, erect organ
from his line of sight. "I'll tell you what I'm doing." Mulder
felt something against his anus and immediately tensed. "It's
okay, that's my thumb again, relax."
Mulder closed his eyes and gave into the feel of being rubbed
again around the anus; more oil was being spread. "You'll feel
the head now." Something soft and big was pressing in next
to Joshua's thumb as it slowly slid out. There was a moment
of pure terror as he felt his anus resist and then suddenly
give under the pressure and pop open and slip over like an
elastic band. It didn't hurt, but the oddness of it made him
clench. Joshua's hand was on his lower back, rubbing him.
"It's okay, Mulder. I'm in, or the head is, anyway. The rest is
easy. Tell me if I go too deep for you."
###
Watching the end of his cock slowly disappearing into this
man was an undeniably erotic experience. As much as he
wanted to thrust deeply into that incredibly tight clenching
heat, he knew he had to go slow--in a little, then back a bit
before pressing in again. He could feel the muscle ring
squeezing him, holding onto him as he descended into bliss.
He couldn't help but groan aloud at the sensation. Joshua
had found it somewhat mentally frustrating to be so aroused
these past several days without the psychological release of
thrusting into someone. He needed this badly. "Does that feel
okay?" he whispered, trying to hide how incredible this was
feeling in case Mulder wanted to stop.
"I'm okay. How far are you?"
"Almost there. Let me try the whole thing," he said and slid
steadily in until his balls rested against his lover's ass. God,
that was nice. "Done." He rested his cock there, in him,
waiting with all the patience he could muster for Mulder to
tell him it was okay to move.
###
Joshua was waiting for him, asking him if he felt okay.
Mulder wasn't sure...wasn't sure what he was feeling. It just
felt odd. He felt fullness and pressure and something kind of
good at the root of his balls. But the fact was, his brain
wasn't used to registering these types of sensations in this
part of his body. An erect cock was quite different from the
touch of fingers. Being fully penetrated was setting off some
natural alarm system in his brain, threatening to cancel this
experiment that had thus far brought him a great deal of
pleasurable anticipation. He supposed he thought it was
going to feel immediately different, like what he imagined a
woman feels. Except, he wasn't a woman. Joshua certainly
felt something pretty intense when he fucked *him.* Why
wasn't he feeling that? Was he missing something?
"Mulder?" Joshua was beginning to retreat.
"No. It's all right. My brain just got confused."
Joshua chuckled warmly, caressing his back and thighs some
more, soothingly. "It will do that until you learn to associate
these feelings with pleasure. We can try again some other
time."
"Wait."
"Wait?"
"Go ahead and move; I want to feel you." They'd made it this
far, after all.
"Okay, I'll start slowly."
Joshua sank back in until they met balls to ass again--then he
took a tiny pull back, thrusting gently in a shallow increment.
He felt Joshua lean back over him and take his confused
penis in hand, stroking it in a familiar and stimulating way.
Mulder soon discovered that as the pleasure rose in his cock,
the sensations in his ass grew more favorable and
comfortable--that nice little feeling near his balls was
growing into a rising disassociated sensation, a warming tug
that was definitely becoming a good thing, a really good
thing.
"More," he whispered and Joshua was more than willing to
oblige him.
###
Mulder was asking for more. That pleading tone in his deep
throaty voice sent a rush of heat straight to Joshua's groin.
Mulder was enjoying this; he wanted this, wanted him inside
him, letting Joshua take his pleasure from him in such a
vulnerable and giving way. The notion he was finally fucking
Mulder was stimulating in the extreme--as stimulating as the
unbearably tight sheath of his ass, hot and slick around him.
Joshua let go of Mulder's cock and came back up on his
knees, holding the man's hips firmly so he could thrust more
deeply, more satisfactorily. When Mulder responded with a
rough and urgent groan, Joshua couldn't resist the instinct to
move a little more vigorously, knowing he couldn't last like
this for very long. It was too close, too good, too passionate.
Water was kicking up and splashing over the edge of the tub
from his efforts. He needed this too much to hold back from
the deep pleasure gathering in his balls, drawing them up so
tight he was beginning to ache from holding back.
###
"I'm sorry.... I've wanted this so much."
And that's when it occurred to Mulder, this was Joshua in
him, about to come; this brilliant, attractive young man who
had taken notice of him, who had shown him such kindness
and understanding. It was Joshua who desired him, accepted
him, who had taken him away from the dullness he'd been
drowning in and reminded him of who he was inside, a
tender and passionate man-- someone worthy of love,
someone who could give love. This was about so much more
than getting off in a strange and unusual way. This was about
opening up and taking someone inside himself--opening up
his soul.
These thoughts were bringing about deep waves of pleasure
emanating from his pelvic area and sweeping over his entire
body, not just the length of his cock. His heart rate was rising
and he felt himself coming up off the edge of the tub, bracing
himself, seeking more and more of that strange and beautiful
pleasure taking possession of him. All the while Joshua was
fucking him, steady and solid, building to his own peak,
making soft unguarded sounds, thrusting faster and deeper,
holding them together.
Mulder almost didn't recognize his own orgasm when it hit. It
came from within, a crashing intense sensation--stronger and
longer than anything he had ever experienced. He cried out,
gripping the head of his penis, thrusting sharply, feeling his
come rising and spurting hard through his fingers. He felt
overpowered by it as it slowly retreated with Joshua's final,
disjointed, shuddering thrusts, leaving him with a peaceful,
sinking feeling of profound satisfaction, an exquisite
emotional release unlike anything he had ever felt before. He
felt rewarded, fulfilled--all he wanted to do was curl up and
sleep. He slumped back heavily against the edge of the tub,
softly moaning. Joshua was pressed up behind him, hugging
him, kissing him feverishly, thanking him, as the escaped
water pooled across the bathroom floor.
###
Joshua lay awake watching the fire whipping down. He had
re-laid it after he and Mulder made it up out of the tub, both
a little shaken and amazed, yet still somewhat shy about
showing it to one another. Joshua sat him on the edge of the
bed, drying his nodding head with a towel, before laying him
down naked under the warm covers of the bed to a well-
earned rest. It was well into the night now; it felt late. His
lover was sound asleep spooned against him, his arm over his
hip under the sheets. But Joshua couldn't sleep, not yet. Not
while his chest was aching and his eyes burning from more
than an errant wisp of smoldering firewood.
He knew this feeling that held him bitterly. The emotion was
deep and profound. The whole day--the companionship, the
wine, the kisses, the lovemaking--it was unmistakable, it rang
through his very bones. And now that the night was passing
so easily into dawn, he knew deep in his soul he was marked.
It's a terrifying and wonderful moment when a man realizes
he no longer belongs exclusively to himself. Now, in this
room, in this bed, being held so closely, he wondered if any
of himself remained at all. As much as he had wanted this
day, he had been wholly unprepared for what it would bring
him.
As close as they were, as close as they had become, the truth
burned into his mind--there was no composition written in
any key, in any century, by any composer for gun and violin.
And neither was ever likely to set their instrument aside.
***************************
5:30 AM
Joshua was woken from a heavy sleep by someone calling his
name. He opened his eyes. It was nearly dawn. The sky
outside the window was beginning to turn gray. Mulder was
still pressed up behind him, breathing deeply and steadily. It
wasn't him. Maybe he had been dreaming. He closed his eyes.
"Joshua..."
Joshua's bones went cold. He knew that voice. He opened his
eyes and turned his head slowly. The room was dark, empty,
but to his horror he realized the door was open, the dim light
of the hall peering in. He struggled to sit up and in doing so
looked back toward the fireplace. The Thin Man was standing
at the hearth, smiling. He opened his tattered and filthy coat
of felt to expose his distended and sickened stomach.
"I am swollen," he said.
His gray eyes were fixed on him as Joshua reached next to
him to shake Mulder awake. Mulder didn't respond, just kept
sleeping despite Joshua calling out his name. "Mulder, wake
up! Wake up!"
Mulder stirred, and mumbled something.
Joshua tore his eyes away from the specter to look down at
him. "Mulder, he's here!"
Mulder opened his eyes, struggling out of the depths of sleep.
"Who's here?"
"The Thin Man! He's..." To his shock the Thin Man had
vanished from the hearth. Joshua scanned the room with his
eyes. There was a silhouette floating in the doorway. "He's at
the door; can you see him?"
Mulder was sitting up now, blinking into the darkness.
"Joshua? Why is the door open?"
"He's there in the doorway. He's turning now," Joshua
whispered. "God, can't you see him?"
"No...Fuck! My weapon!" Mulder jumped out of bed to his
feet, grabbing his pants and pulling them on. "Shit, where's
Andy? I thought he was watching the door."
"He's gone now. Didn't you see him? I think he moved up the
hall."
"Who, Joshua?"
"The Thin Man, Mulder--he was in our room!"
"Look, stay right there; don't leave the room. I'm going next
door to get my weapon and have a look around, okay?"
Joshua pulled the sheet over his legs. He was shaking.
"Okay."
###
Mulder quickly checked the closets and the bathroom before
locking Joshua in the room and heading next door to knock
on Andy's door. The door pushed open with the pressure of
his knuckles. Inside, the room was lit, but empty. "Andy?"
There was no answer.
Mulder found his gun resting on a table next to an opened
bottle of Cabernay. He unholstered it, checking to make sure
it was still ready to fire. It was. If his guess was right, the Thin
Man was announcing the next attack, which could come from
anywhere at any minute--possibly from Andy, who was
missing from his post. Mulder inspected the room quickly,
anxious to get back to Joshua. His worst fears were realized
when he found a scrap of hotel stationery crumpled on the
floor. There was writing on it: "The soldiers are coming."
"Mulder...!" He heard Joshua yell from the room next door
and he ran out of Andy's room and back to theirs. The door
was thrown open. Andy was standing at the foot of the bed.
Fuck! He hadn't been gone more than fifteen seconds. Andy's
revolver was drawn, pointed at Joshua's chest where he sat
naked on the bed.
"Drop your weapon!" Mulder shouted. But the security guard
didn't acknowledge him; he had a glassy look to his eyes, a
stillness. His attention was focused only on Joshua.
"Joshua, listen to me," Mulder said, stepping stealthily
toward the armed man. "When I say 'Go,' I want you to dive
for the floor and under the bed as fast as you can."
Joshua gave a solemn nod. Mulder took another step and
said, "Go."
Joshua moved and Mulder fired his weapon. In the same
second he heard Andy's revolver turn, load and connect,
blasting past where Joshua had been sitting, breaking a
chunk of plaster from the wall. Andy was on the ground
holding his shoulder and squirming from where Mulder had
shot him in the upper arm, throwing off his aim and making
him drop the weapon. Joshua crawled forward from beneath
the fallen bedclothes to grab the pistol and hold it nervously
on Andy.
"Joshua, don't point that thing unless you know how to use
it," Mulder snapped, holding Andy down with his knee while
he looked for something to tie his hands with. His handcuffs
were conveniently back in the trunk of the car--perfect. He
ordered Andy to put his arms behind his back, which the now
visibly shaken and confused man did, as Mulder bound his
wrists with a telephone cord.
"Joshua, I want you to get on this phone, if it's still working,
and call hotel security. Now!"
****************************************
St. Helena Hospital
9:58 AM
Andy was safely admitted to the St. Helena Hospital where
the bullet wound was explored, bound and dressed. He was
going to be fine, but still had no reasonable explanation for
why he was found standing over Joshua with his weapon in
his hand, or why he failed to respond to Mulder's shout to
drop it.
It was pissing rain when the rental company pulled up with a
sedan to take Mulder and Joshua, and Joshua's spending
spree packed in the trunk, back to San Francisco. Mulder had
been delayed for almost two hours at the hospital answering
questions and filling out paperwork. Joshua had little to do
but pace around the visitor's seating area watching the rain
beat against the windows. It was a good thing they were in a
hospital, considering the level of anxiety he was
experiencing. One look at his lover's face, post-shooting, and
he knew things had made a turn for the worse. That self-
sacrificing stubbornness and determination he so admired in
Mulder was about to come crashing down on him. Mulder
hadn't so much as asked him if he was okay since they left
the scene. Joshua was shaking in his woolen coat and
stomped his legs to try and gain an edge over it. He was being
avoided. Fuck, he hated this feeling.
Eventually Mulder made an appearance, holding a set of keys.
"Come on. We're outta here."
###
In the car, Mulder kept a steely watch on the narrow valley
freeway, navigating through the traffic and downpour. The
windshield wipers were swishing aside a cascading sheet of
water with an audible whoosh-whoosh. Joshua sat huddled in
his coat, miserable at Mulder's silence.
"Can we talk about this?" he finally asked when the stress of
waiting had reached an unbearable level.
"What's to discuss? I think it's obvious...some changes are
going to be made."
Joshua shifted his legs, crossing one over the other, trying to
brace himself. "What changes?"
"I can't even begin to tell you how furious I am with myself,"
Mulder announced suddenly. "This stupidity on my part ends
now."
Joshua folded his arms across his chest, hugging himself,
trying to stay calm. "Mulder, I understand. But that doesn't
mean we can't..."
"Dammit, Joshua. That's exactly what this means," the agent
said, slapping the steering wheel with his palm. "I can't
protect you if I'm fucking you. I think we proved that today.
I'm sorry," he said, bringing some calm back into his voice,
"but continuing to risk your life is not an option."
Joshua swallowed an angry retort and looked away out his
window at the valley. Its once-brilliant colors were dulled and
smeared by sheets of rain. This place had been a paradise to
him not 12 hours earlier. He couldn't believe this was
happening. Why was he being punished like this? "I don't
think you realize how much I care about what happens with
us," he said thickly.
Mulder's fingers tapped the steering wheel and he heard the
agent sigh heavily. "Joshua..."
"Don't," he said, stopping him. He could hear the beginnings
of the 'this is the end' tone in the agent's voice. He ground
his foot into the floor of the car to keep himself from coming
apart. Two hours was a long time to wait to scream.
***************************************
He didn't scream. Instead, he dumped his packages
unceremoniously onto the floor near the kitchen bar and
made straight over to the violin, shouldering it and playing
vigorously every late-twentieth century discordant ugliness
he could recall. They were abstract and sharp tones that
reflected the broken and tousled contents of his chest. He
was much too angry for tears.
Mulder was standing near his front door on the phone, trying
to reach Dillmont, but instead arranged for another agent
from the SF office to head over. Then he called his partner,
telling her he'd be right over. Joshua knew it was only
business, but that call hurt him almost more than Mulder's
conversation or lack thereof in the car.
Joshua played loudly and harshly, whipping the bow, as
Mulder sat near the door in the chair Dillmont usually
occupied until the bell rang. A strange agent arrived, armed,
female, young. Joshua ignored her attempt to call out an
introduction to him.
"He's a little upset," he heard Mulder mutter.
"Goddamn right, the violinist's upset!" Joshua snapped,
sliding his violin back in the case with a 'tonk.' "I'll be in the
only place a person can find any privacy in this room," he
said with mocking calmness and headed toward the
bathroom, shedding his shirt as he went.
Ten minutes later, pelted with hot spray and half covered in
soap, he sank along the tile wall of his shower, brought to his
knees by hard, choking sobs.
**********************************