"Domesticated III: Territory"
RATING: NC-17; M/K. If m/m interaction bothers you, run away!
SUMMARY: Alex greets Mulder at home.
DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first. DISCLAIMERS:
All things X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Ten- Thirteen, and
Fox. I'm just sharing and not making a cent off this. No infringement
intended. Suing me would be a waste of time and a mean thing to
do. I have no money. At all. FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com
NOTES: I've become a fan of the Sith Academy site ( http://www.siubhan.com/sithacademy
), and one of the many featured characters is a Sith *cat* called
My Apprentice. When not plotting against her owner and master,
Darth Maul, she's trying to kill the Jedi hamster, Fluffi-Wan
Kenobi, next door. Discussion with a friend ended up leading to
thoughts of Sith kitty Alex, which immediately led to thoughts
of the "Domesticated" series. But the only place you'll
see a becollared, jingling Alex in bed chomping the heads off
of hamsters like they were little chocolate bunnies is in this
NOTE. So thanks, R!
Gravity Kills' self-titled album was a big help too. Thanks to
the very patient Karen-Leigh for stepping in to beta. Thanks to
Nonie for the subtitle.
You can find "Domesticated" 1 and 2 and my other stories
in The Green Room at http://members.tripod.com/~drovar/viridian/
"Domesticated III: Territory"
Mulder would be home any minute now, and nothing would look different
or out of place. A little filler and paint had covered the bullet
holes in the walls. Paint scent lingered, but I could always say
I did some painting while he was gone. I doubt he'd notice the
new lamp; he hadn't noticed the carpet had been cleaned that last
time, and it had been filthy before the blood had marked it further.
Establishing yourself as a neat freak had its advantages. If he
ever asked about any of these things I had a ready answer.
I was fucking sick of all the thugs wandering into the apartment
or trying to keep tabs on us from the other ones. If the old man
had to put Mulder under surveillance he could damned well do it
at the office. Home was off-limits. They had to know I was here
by now, and they already knew how I felt about people invading
I'd killed so many intruders over the last few months that I was
starting to wonder if Old Man Spender had reached a point where
he just sent the people that he wanted disposed of. "I'll
give them to Alex; he'll kill anyone." If that was true,
I wanted my fee.
Keys jingled in the lock. I don't know how many times I've told
Mulder not to give anyone hiding in his apartment that kind of
advance notice. I would probably never get him properly trained.
Grinning, I crouched in my spot and prepared to spring. I had
an open line at him as soon as he opened the door. If I had a
tail, it would be twitching. Our matched collars made an awkward
bulge in my jeans pocket beside another bulge. They rubbed together
nicely as I shifted now and then; in fact, I shifted just to feel
Four days without him. I wanted him so badly I could taste it.
I had finally successfully partitioned my life. When he wasn't
around, I could be the cold, ruthless bastard I had to be and
not even think of him while on the job. But it cost a little.
When I had him, the emotions and lust tended to make up for lost
time. Not that he ever complained.
The door swung open, but Mulder didn't come in. I aborted my leap
and waited. A gun barrel cleared the doorway, then withdrew. He
stalked in, gun ready, using the wall for cover, glancing in every
direction around the apartment.
My smile nearly devoured my face. He was playing! It was so damned
And so damned useless. I leapt and hit him from the back. He let
out a distinctly girly scream as he went down under me but kept
hold of his gun without squeezing the trigger in his surprise.
He was getting better. Only my lust was greater than my pride.
We wrestled for the gun, both grinning like loons. Or showing
our clenched teeth like dueling lions. He had two hands, but I
kept smacking him with my prosthetic arm. Struggling, we writhed
and ground against one another, panting. He was at least as hard
against me as I was against him. We must have looked like a flurry
of jerky movement. The tang of his sweat made me want to bury
my face in his neck.
He stopped fighting so suddenly I fell on him. I prepared for
some sneaky move from him, but he was just lying there giggling.
"You surrender?" I asked as I tongued his ear.
"Kinda. I realized that if we kept it up, I'd come in my
suit pants soon. That's not how I want to do it."
"You're smarter than you look."
"That wouldn't be too hard."
Our struggle had brought a flush to his face, and his hair had
spiked more. Not many people know what an incredible smile he
has, but he was shining it at me now. We were lying on his trench
coat unfurled beneath us. I'd successfully initiated the rumpling
process on his clothes and self; rumpling improved his looks.
I pulled his tie loose and put my teeth around the top button
of his dress shirt.
"Alex!" he protested.
"Mulder!" I replied.
"Let me do that."
"You want to bite off your own top button? I want to see
"And proud of it."
But I watched his long, clever fingers take off the tie and undo
the buttons. No undershirt, but he'd known I'd be here when he
got home. He made a small incoherent sound as I nuzzled the smooth
skin of his stomach. Yeah, he'd gotten me into it. Him offering
his belly to me like this touched something primal and atavistic;
it signaled surrender and trust.
His hips already bucked under me, since it had been days since
we'd last gone at one another. This first time would be on the
"wham-bam" level for sure, but I liked fast and frenzied
too, and we'd have more time later. Hell, I made him see God on
a nightly basis, at least he usually kept screaming like he saw
the Creator. I could also wring multiple erections from him, even
if he were nearing forty. With the exercise I was giving him,
I was probably adding years to his life.
Of course, getting shot at and throwing himself into danger fucked
with all that, but there was only so much even I could do.
"Maybe we should close the door first," Mulder said
with a grin.
"Why? I think old lady Scheel could use a thrill."
"Old lady Scheel doesn't deserve you."
"Aw! I think."
"I meant it in a good way. Mostly."
"I could still kill you with my hand tied behind my back."
Mulder's hand rummaged through my jeans' pocket a little longer
than necessary--not that I didn't enjoy it--and pulled out the
cat collars. "But you can't put these on."
"Give me enough time and a little privacy, and you'd be surprised."
"I like watching you twist around." But he put one collar
around his neck before reaching for mine. Strong fingers brushed
the nape of my neck in ways that sent a shudder through my whole
body. You shouldn't knock neck sex until you've tried it.
But... "You're wearing *my* collar, Mulder." His nametag
was green, while mine was red. The colors had felt so appropriate
for us that I only remembered his color-blindness later. Though
he seemed to be able to see a difference in the two tags even
without our names engraved on them. His was a darker shade of
He gave me a grin so insolent he could have stolen it off my face.
Something inside me ruptured. So we have strange and sappy ideas
of kink. Didn't stop me from swooping down and kissing him breathless,
bell jingling all the way. As I ground against him again, I said,
"How 'bout I sit on your lap while you stroke me?"
He answered by exhaling in a small explosion of breath before
unfastening his pants in a frenzy. I only helped by pulling back
far enough to let him. A little frustration did wonders for him.
Rhinestones flashed on my collar around his neck as he wiggled.
I didn't know if I'd be able to stand waiting much longer myself.
That was okay, because he tore my sweater off and hit a new speed
record for unbuckling my prosthetic arm before his hands went
for my pockets again.
"What else do you have in here?" he asked. "Besides
the obvious." He pulled out the condoms and tube of slick.
"Always prepared. You must have been a boy scout."
"The Russian version actually. I looked fetching in the little
Mulder moaned. "Don't I have enough dirty fantasies about
"You can never have too many."
"Maybe, but this one doesn't have us doing this on the floor."
"Spoilsport." But I stood up. Mulder wasn't half as
much fun if you wrecked his back early in the evening.
I couldn't help snickering when he closed and locked the door.
He had half the conspiracy watching him jerk off on the couch
and shower for years, but he couldn't stand the thought of the
neighbors, what few he had left, maybe getting a peek. He probably
preferred not to think about it. Well, if his mental blind spots
got him through the day and didn't compromise me, who was I to
I didn't have the heart to tell him that anyone who tried to walk
in on us would be dead in minutes. I hated interruptions. So maybe
a closed door was a good thing.
Mulder shrugged off his coat and shirt in a fluid motion. Made
me wish I had two hands to applaud with so he could stick out
his tongue at me. Then we were all over one another again: kissing,
stroking, biting, squeezing... I tripped him onto the couch, and
he managed to get our pants off. Neither of us had much time or
need for prep. I was so damned ready. He got the condom on, while
I slicked myself up.
When I impaled myself on his cock, it felt... I couldn't find
the word that would nail it completely. Right. Perfect. Necessary?
Whichever, it felt so good that sparks traveled up my spine. Pressure,
burn, weight, friction--familiar, but never exactly the same twice--all
combined in the hard, fast thrusts of Mulder's hips. I just about
felt him at the back of my teeth.
His hands clenched on my hips, moving and guiding me, would leave
new bruises, but I marked him up too. It wasn't a pain thing or
a possession thing, just a part of the way we made one another
lose control. Two control freaks in... in love wouldn't have worked
any other way.
The low, throaty sounds of satisfaction he made matched mine.
At times like these the blankness melted from his face and liquefied
into pure pleasure. The light of the nearby lamp gleamed off his
eyes, teeth, bell, and rhinestones in small bursts of brilliance.
I loved to watch him. He smiled as I stroked myself in time to
Our bells jangled out of time, so I started to move in a way that
would synchronize them. Soon, we were ringing together. Mulder
laughed and babbled, "You're insane, you're beautiful, Alex..."
Orgasm hit him in a wild rush, and he thrust upward in a way that
instantly brought me off. I vaguely heard the couch thump against
the wall and something crash, but I was too busy drowning in the
lightning thrumming through my body to care. When I came back
to myself, I was draped against his side, and he was stroking
my spine in slow strokes.
Sated, drained, I yawned and burrowed in closer. I'd gotten used
to waking up with him in the middle of the night for Round 2,
sometimes followed by Rounds 3, 4...
"I'd leave more often if I knew we'd have furniture-breaking
sex when I got back," he said as he kissed me.
I looked down at the floor and saw that we'd broken the lamp.
I smiled. One less thing to worry about. But Mulder stared at
"Alex, that isn't my lamp."
No matter how much he pleaded, I refused to tell him why I was
laughing like a lunatic.