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AROUSAL by Alison

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Category:  Slash, Mulder/Byers
Rating:  NC-17 for m/m relationship 
Disclaimer:  not mine, etc 
Spoilers:  Nope
Archive:   Ephemeral, Gossamer, Unusual Suspects, Basement:  
anyone else please ask
Summary:  Byers' agrees to help Mulder out, but it leads to more 
than they both bargained for.




The coffee shop off the Mall in downtown Washington was quiet 
that Tuesday afternoon in the hiatus after the lunchtime rush.  
When the pale skinny teenage boy carrying a plastic shopping 
carrier paused in the doorway to scan the occupants, he quickly 
picked out the man he had come to meet, sipping a latte in a 
secluded booth at the back.  Tall, darkhaired, in a smart 
business suit, he looked more like an advertising excecutive 
than the FBI agent the boy knew him to be. But he matched the 
description he had given during their telephone conversation the 
previous evening, and the boy was scared enough to take the 
risk.

The boy inched cautiously towards the other man between the 
tables, so intent on his mission that he did not see that he was 
himself being observed from a table in the opposite corner.  
Another suited man, also dark haired, bearded, a little shorter, 
a little younger, a little less composed, but but he didn't take 
his eyes off the newcomer.

The boy slid into the seat opposite the agent, who nodded at 
him.  "Duncan. Thought you'd changed your mind."

The boy looked around nervously before putting the plastic sack 
on the table between them.  He licked his lips nervously.

"Look, Agent Mulder . . . I've heard I can trust you, and I've 
done what you said.  The stuff is in the sack.  Now just let me 
get outta here, I dont want any more of this."

The agent tipped the sack upside down, and a thick wad of 
typescript fell out onto the table, along with several white 
plastic tubes.  He picked one up for a closer look.  The only 
identification was a computer-printed label bearing an 
identification number and under it, in capitals, the single 
word:  "AROUSAL".

Mulder turned it over in his hands and started to unscrew the 
cap.  The boy grabbed his sleeve.  "Don't get it on you."

The agent raised one eyebrow questioningly, but reached for a 
paper napkin from the neighbouring table and squeezed a little 
of the contents into it.  "It just looks like ordinary lube."

"Well, it's not, I'm telling you.  According to the notes, it's 
got some sort of chemical additive with some really weird side 
effects."

"Okay, so tell me again, just how did it you get hold of it, 
Duncan?"

The boy looked away.  "A friend of mine . . . he was working as 
a cleaner in a research lab in Georgetown, near the University. 
They were working on cloning of livestock, but the chief 
researcher, this guy Evans, he had a personal project he was 
working on, using lab facilities . . . my friend saw some notes 
he was working on and it was something about a follow up to 
Viagra."

"Okay. Go on."

"So anyway, Ross . . my friend, he figures he'd like a piece of 
that.  He'd met a guy in a bar that said he'd pay him for 
anything he could get.  He was planning to quit anyway,  so his 
last night he snuck around to see what he could find . . .

The agent sighed.  "Something tells me I know what happened 
next.  He just happened to find the lab door unlocked . . ."

Duncan nodded.  "Something like that.  Anyway he walked out with 
*that*", and he prodded the pile of tubes.  

"Then when he drove past the next day . . . there'd been a fire, 
the place had burned to the ground.  Evans was toast . . . all 
his notes, everything had gone.  What Ross had, was all there 
was."

Mulder nodded.  "I've seen the preliminary report on the fire, 
and the autopsy.  They say it was an electrical  fault.  And 
Evans died of smoke inhalation.  It was an accident."

"No way.  The next day, someone turned Ross's place over. They 
didn't find the stuff, he'd hidden it . . . somewhere else.  
That was when he told me about it. The guy from the bar had 
disappeared, so we figured we had to get rid of it, that's when 
I called you, but then this morning . . . coming from his place 
to meet me . . . Ross was mugged . . . he was found in an 
alleyway, he'd been hit over the head and they'd taken 
everything he had on him.  He's in the hospital, unconscious . . ."

Duncan broke off, scrubbing his hand across his face.  Mulder 
waited patiently for him to regain his composure, flicking 
through the notes while he waited.  "Is the formula in here as 
well?"

The boy shook his head, sniffing.  "No, according to Ross, Evans 
just kept that in his head.  All there is, is in those notes.  
Ross said he was a real paranoid old bastard."

The agent smiled as if at a a private joke.  "Don't underrate 
paranoia, Duncan."  He indicated the notes.  "You've read 'em?"

The boy flushed.  "No . . . I don't read too good.  Ross was the 
one who knew all about it."  He took a deep breath.

"I just want out, Agent Mulder.  I'm scared to go back to my 
place. I don't know what that stuff is and I don't care.  All I 
know is my friend is in the hospital because of that, and I want 
out, before they come after me."  He was becoming increasingly 
agitated, and Mulder put out a hand to restrain him.

The boy pulled away, jumping to his feet.  "No, please - you 
said I could trust you.  Please, just take it and let me go."

He wrenched his wrist out of Mulder's grasp and headed out of 
the cafe at a run.  

Byers came over from the table where he had been keeping watch. 
"You're not going after him?"

Mulder shook his head regretfully.  "No point.  He's too scared 
to testify, even if we could prove anything.  And whoever is 
behind this is too smart to leave any tracks."

"But don't you think he's in danger?"

"Yeah, but I can't protect him if he won't let me.  All I can do 
is put the word out on the streets that a package from the lab 
has come into the possession of the FBI.  That might help."

Byers slipped into the seat vacated by Duncan as Mulder quickly 
skimmed through the pages of notes.  What he read made his hair 
stand on end.  Evans had struck gold, discovered what chemists 
had been trying to achieve for hundreds of years.  A compound 
that guaranteed arousal, with immediate effect on both males and 
females, absorbed through the skin when applied in the form of 
lubrication.  

Mulder quickly realised that Duncan could have no idea what he 
had got hold of.  If the stuff was genuine the formula could be 
worth a fortune.  No wonder there was more than one group of 
people out there who would like to get their hands on it.

And, Mulder admitted, he would like a chance to get a closer 
look, maybe even a personal sample, for himself.
  
He looked up at Byers.  "I'd like to take a closer look at this 
-can we take it back to your HQ and run some tests?"

Byers nodded.  "Sure.  I don't know that I can be as effective 
as Agent Scully, it's a pity she's away.  But I can try."

Mulder tipped the tubes into the plastic sack Duncan had given 
him.  He didn't feel the tiny touch of wetness on his wrist from 
one of the plastic tubes that was not quite as tightly sealed as 
the others.

Perhaps he would have been more worried if he had read to the 
end of the sheaf of notes, and seen the hastily scrawled 
handwritten notes on the last page.

ALL TESTS DISCONTINUED on this batch.  Present formula at 
dangerously strong concentration.  Uncontrollable reaction 
observed in test subjects.  Reaction spread from primary test 
subject to secondary subject through simple skin contact due to 
high absorbtion in primary subject's body.  ALL FURTHER WORK TO 
CEASE IMMEDIATELY AND ALL STOCKS OF PRESENT FORMULA TO BE 
DESTROYED."

---000---

They had come in Byers' car, and as they drove back to the HQ 
Mulder couldn't help sneaking the occasional sideways glance at 
Byers as he drove. The late afternoon sun was shining through 
the car window, silhouetting his hair in a halo of red gold.

Mulder was struck by the fact that Byers seemed much more 
relaxed these days;  less tense and defensive.  He smiled more; 
seemed more at ease with himself, less nervous.  It had been 
only recently that Mulder had learned about the relationship 
between the two younger Gunmen.  He had known Byers and Langly 
for ten years, and while he had no problem in accepting their 
relationship, he couldn't help a little curious speculation 
about the idea that two of his best friends had developed a 
deeply passionate sexual attachment.

Whatever games they play, Langly must be good for him, he 
thought enviously.  

It seemed warm in the car:  Mulder loosened his collar and 
pulled his tie down a little, turning slightly sideways to look 
at Byers more closely.  It seemed strange to see him now without 
his constant companion.

"Where's Langly, anyway?"

"Gone to visit an aunt of his, it's her birthday."

"You didn't go with him?"

Byers smiled secretively.  "He didn't think she'd be very 
comfortable with knowing about us."

"Does she have to know?"

Byers shrugged.  "She's one of the few relatives he has that 
he's still talking to . . . he thinks a lot of her.  He doesn't 
want to upset her."  He spoke fondly, an affectionate smile 
curving his mouth, and Mulder felt a touch of envy.  If only 
Scully and me had that . . . we have the closeness, the security 
of knowing we can trust each other utterly, but it could be so 
much more . . . she's so gorgeous . . . the sun on her hair, her 
perfume . . . how about it, Scully  . . .

"- Mulder?"

Mulder jumped.  Byers was looking curiously at him.  "Sorry, 
Byers, what did you say?" 

"Oh, nothing . . . I said Langly'll be back tonight, so I want 
to be finished by then."

"Um . . . sure."  Mulder looked harder at Byers.  He realised 
that Byers was looking good these days too:  Hard to say why, 
but there was just something in the way he looked, the way he 
moved, as if he was more aware of his body, took pleasure in 
being young and fit and goodlooking and . . . desired.  Mulder 
allowed his thoughts to stray to picture the two in bed 
together.  Byers, his head thrown back against the pillow, body 
arching, writhing in ecstasy, crying out uncontrollably, lost in 
his orgasm . . .

Mulder dragged his mind back to the present, somewhat conscious 
that his thoughts had started a familiar pulsing in his groin.  
Jeez, not here . . . guess it's been too long.  When was the 
last time?

He wound down the window and took deep breaths.  It's a warm 
afternoon . . . and I've been thinking way too much about Scully 
since she's been gone.  I miss her  . . . yes, that's all it is . . .

---000---

When they arrived back at the HQ neither of the other Gunmen 
were around, to Mulder's relief.  He really didn't want 
Frohike's curiosity or lewd comments about the contents of the 
tubes, nor Langly's cynical derision.  But Byers believed him.  
Yes, he could trust Byers.  Byers was a great guy, a good friend 
. . .  
While Byers was locking up behind them, Mulder dumped the bag on 
the workbench, looking around him.  The impressive array of 
equipment ranged along the back wall looked as effective as 
anything he had seen in the FBI laboratories, and he knew Byers 
was expert in chemical analysis, as he had shown in the past 
with his analysis of Scully's blood during her illness.

He looked up as Byers came back into the office, and watched the 
Gunman as he moved around, setting up the equipment competently 
and calmly as in everything else he did.  It crossed Mulder's 
mind that he didn't need Scully after all.  Byers could do 
everything he needed, reliably and efficiently, without fuss or 
argument.  

Byers called over his shoulder - "Okay, we're ready - bring it 
over here and we can take a look."

Mulder upended the plastic sack on the table and shook the tubes 
out into his hand.  He felt a warm sticky sensation on his palm 
and a tingling shot up his arm like fire.  He yelped and dropped 
the tubes on the table.  "Hey . . . . jeez, one of them's leaked 
-."  He pulled out a handkerchief and scrubbed at his hand, but 
his hand continued to tingle, not unpleasantly, spreading from 
one to the other as the lube came in contact with his other 
hand, spreading up both arms, into his chest, his head.

Byers looked over.  "Hey, you'd better wash it off.  We don't 
know what effect it might have."

The warmth was spreading all over Mulder's body, an increasing 
excitement, a reckless feeling possessing him.  He giggled.  
"No, wait - maybe a guinea pig is just what we need here."

Byers frowned, coming over towards him.  "Mulder, you crazy? We 
don't know what side effects that stuff might have.  You of all 
people should know better than that."

The other man's voice seemed to be coming from a great distance, 
as if muffled in some way.  Mulder took a deep breath and looked 
across at him, and felt his heart almost stop.  A wave of heat 
swept over his entire body as though he had been suddenly 
plunged into hot water.  He blinked and stared at the man 
standing next to him as if he had never seen him before.

Confusion swept over Mulder as he felt himself starting to 
become hard; his pulse rate was increasing as was his breathing 
and his palms were becoming damp, his hands shaking slightly.  
He couldn't take his eyes off Byers as he stood just a few feet 
away, the dim lighting of the HQ highlighting his hair with a 
soft copper glow that reminded Mulder painfully, again, of 
Scully.  But the intense blue eyes were regarding him with none 
of Scully's cynicism, only friendly concern.  Why would he be 
thinking of Scully now  . . . red hair and blue eyes . . . John 
. .  tall and lean . . . remember seeing him in the hospital, 
when I made him give me his clothes . . . so shy, but so 
beautiful . . .

He brought his hand up and wiped his fingers round his hairline, 
finding it slick with sweat.  He was so hot;  his armpits were 
damp and sweat was trickling down his back.  There was a deep 
growing heat in his groin, tightening his balls, a familiar 
fluttering in his stomach increasing simultaneously with his 
growing erection.   He felt dizzy;  the ache in his groin was 
spreading throughout his whole body, his mouth was dry and his 
chest tight with a mixture of panic and arousal.  This simply 
couldn't be happening in this totally inappropriate time and 
place;  he tried to fight it, shutting his eyes and turning away 
from Byers, trying to take deep breaths.

Byers' voice, husky and gentle, broke through his attempts to 
focus and centre himself.  "Mulder, what's wrong?  Are you 
okay?"  

Jesus, why had he never realised what a sexy voice the guy had? 
 God - if he comes any closer, if he touches me -

He shook his head and managed to stumble a few steps away.  
"I'll be okay, just a bit dizzy -"

Closer now, just behind him - "Mulder, you're sick.  Come and 
sit down -"

Mulder managed to swing his outstretched arm back behind him, 
fending Byers off.  "No, just leave me alone -"

"Mulder-" and a hand on his arm, just a simple human contact but 
the sensation shot through him like an electric shock.  He swung 
round to face Byers and his hands came up of their own accord, 
grabbing the younger man by the shoulders.  "I told you to leave 
me alone!"

Face to face with him now, only inches away and he couldn't tear 
his eyes away from the blue ones now staring into his own with 
real concern.  "John-"   and his hands came up of their own 
accord,  fingertips still sticky with lube caressing the other 
man's face, stroking over his beard, down, feeling the pulse 
points in the neck.  Byers jerked and gasped and his face 
flushed, his hands came up and grabbed Mulder's wrists.  Grabbed 
them and held them, but made no move to push them away as he 
stared back into Mulder's eyes.  He swallowed audibly and his 
lips parted, his tongue came out to moisten them and his 
breathing quickened.

Mulder wrenched his hands free and grabbed Byers' head in both 
hands, running his fingers through the silky dark softness.  
Byers' gasp was quenched by Mulder's mouth fastening on his in 
desperation, tongue thrusting in deep and fierce. But Byers' 
mouth opened under his, submitting, taking him in, and his arms 
came up round Mulder's shoulders and pulled him close.  Blinded 
with lust, his heart hammering, Mulder pushed against him, 
trying to clamp their bodies even closer, but his knees buckled 
under him and he fell to the floor, dragging Byers down with 
him.

They fell to the floor in a heap beside the couch, Mulder 
landing on top and pinning Byers down with his weight.  He held 
Byers' wrists in each of his hands either side of the other 
man's head and kissed him again roughly, tongue thrusting hard 
into Byers' mouth in tempo with the thrust of his hips against 
the man beneath him.  Byers' mouth opened under his own, 
responding eagerly with a lust that matched Mulder's own as the 
drug entered his system.  Soon he was moaning frantically and 
thrusting back against Mulder with equal fervour.  

Mulder hitched himself up and began to tear at the buttons on 
Byers' shirt, ripping it off impatiently then pulling at the 
belt and fumbling with the zipper.  Byers' hands were on 
Mulder's hips, divesting him of his pants at the same time and 
freeing his erection.  As soon as they were both free Mulder 
pushed down again, thrusting his aching cock against Byers' 
equally ready erection.  Byers cried out and his hands tightened 
on Mulder's back.  His head fell back and Mulder fastened his 
teeth on the exposed throat, biting hard.

With his free hand he reached out for the tube which had fallen 
to the floor beside him, smearing it thickly on his fingers 
before grasping and caressing his own now painfully hard cock.  
He pushed Byers' legs apart, fingers pushing quickly up behind 
his balls to find the opening and thrusting in.  Byers cried out 
again and shuddered as the drug in the lube was quickly absorbed 
by his sensitive tissues, further heightening his arousal.  

Mulder pushed himself up onto hands and knees, grabbing Byers by 
the shoulders, rolling him over and pushing his legs further 
apart.  Down again on top of him, Mulder grasped his cock firmly 
in one hand and pushed in with a sob of relief.  

The sensations pouring into Mulder's body from the increased 
concentration of the drug in his system were now overwhelming.  
He thrust frenziedly, aware of nothing but the need for his own 
release.  Somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny portion of 
his consciousness was aware of what was happening in a detached 
way as if watching a movie, but the familiar sensations of 
arousal overwhelmed him and carried him away like a twig swept 
away in a flood.

He tightened his clutching hands on Byers' shoulders and thrust 
harder, desperately,  shutting his eyes tight and trying to 
convince himself that the taut muscular frame under him was the 
softer supple body he had desired for so long.  He buried his 
face in the dark red hair, almost able to convince himself it 
was the other, fiery mane he had so longed to touch.

Byers was jerking back into his thrusts, crying out with each 
jolt into his body.  His body arched as his orgasm hit him, and 
Mulder felt his whole body tense and shudder.  His internal 
muscles spasmed involuntarily around Mulder's cock and Mulder 
yelled in surprise as the sensation triggered his own violent 
orgasm.  Several more uncontrollable thrusts shook him as he 
shot into the man beneath him, pressing his mouth against Byers' 
neck as if trying to possess even more of him.  He felt Byers go 
limp under him before he too lost consciousness.

*******

Mulder lay panting, resting his forehead on Byers' shoulder.  
Byers was still shuddering, his limbs twitching in the aftermath 
of his orgasm, totally out of it.  Mulder caught his breath and 
pulled out of Byers, lifting his body up a little before 
subsiding down on top of him again.  

Presently he pushed himself up, still a little breathless, 
looking down at Byers.  Byers still seemed barely conscious, 
hardly stirring as Mulder pulled himself off him, and only 
moaning softly as Mulder turned him over on to his back.  Mulder 
scrambled to his feet and stood looking down at his friend's 
unmoving body as he adjusted his clothing.  He looked utterly 
helpless and very desirable as he lay still, his body exposed, 
half naked with his clothing disarranged, there for the taking.

Mulder felt a stirring in his groin again, returning heat and 
pulse dragging at him, and he knelt down again between Byers' 
legs.  He reached out, stroking his hand down Byers' stomach, 
through the hair on his abdomen and down to his cock. He 
caressed it gently, rubbing his thumb up and down the shaft, 
squeezing the hardening organ in rising excitement.  His other 
hand stroked up and down Byers' thigh, cupping his balls at 
every upward stroke and allowing his finger to brush against his 
opening.
 
He heard Byers moan and looked up at his face, seeing his eyes 
slit open, watching Mulder's face, and heard him whisper "Mulder . . ."

Mulder was overcome with a wave of self-disgust and concern as 
he realised how close he had come to repeating his abuse of his 
friend;  and his desire dissipated and was replaced by 
tenderness and affection.  He reached out and touched his 
friend's face gently.  "John . . ." He shifted position till he 
was sitting beside Byers, leaning back against the couch, and 
pulled him up into his arms with Byers' head resting on his 
chest.  Byers' weight relaxed against him and Mulder realised he 
had gone to sleep.  He tightened his arms around the younger man 
and rested his cheek on the top of Byers' head, holding him 
protectively, gently stroking his sweat-streaked face.

Half an hour had passed before Byers stirred, sighing in his 
sleep and then drowsily raising his head.  He smiled muzzily 
into Mulder's face, still obviously disorientated.  

Mulder drew away a little, allowing Byers to push himself up 
into a sitting position against the back of the couch.  He shut 
his eyes for a few seconds, shaking his head in puzzlement, 
before focusing on Mulder again in consternation as his memory 
returned.  "Mulder . . . oh god, what happened . . ."

"Byers . . . John  . . . I'm sorry, it was my fault, I couldn't 
stop myself.  That stuff . . whatever was in it -"

Byers shook his head, the confusion gradually clearing from his 
eyes.  "No - it affected me too.  It wasn't just you, Mulder, I 
felt it too.  As soon as you touched me, it was like I couldn't 
stop either.  I didn't want you to stop."

Mulder buried his head in his hands.  "No, I should have been 
able to stop . . . god, John, that I should do this to one of my 
best friends - I'm so sorry -"

After a few minutes he felt Byers' hand on his shoulder, 
squeezing reassuringly for a moment.  "Mulder, don't blame 
yourself.  We both should have taken more care."

Mulder didn't move or reply, and after a while he felt Byers get 
up and leave him and move away stiffly towards the bathroom.  
Mulder pulled himself up onto the couch and sat there staring at 
the wall, his mind a morass of self-recrimination.  

After a while Byers came back from the bathroom, dressed again 
and looking more like his usual self.  "Why don't you get 
cleaned up, you'll feel better."  Mulder didn't react and Byers 
sat down beside him.  

"C'mon Mulder, I want you to get cleaned up and dressed and out 
of here before Langly comes back."

Mulder flinched and caught his breath.  Langly . . . "Jeez . . . 
John . . . you're not going to tell Langly about this?"

Byers shook his head.  "I don't know . . . nothing like this has 
ever happened before.  We usually tell each other everything.  
But this . . . no, I don't want to hurt him."

Mulder nodded fervently in agreement;  his mind recoiled from 
what Scully's reaction might be.  He squinted sideways at Byers, 
realising that whatever happened, they were linked from now on, 
in a shared pact to protect the people they loved.  He stood up, 
sighing.  "Yeah, you're right.  And John  . . . I guess we just 
pretend this never happened?"

The younger man flushed and looked away.  "Mulder, if you or 
anyone else ever mentions this again, I'll deny all knowledge, 
okay?"

Mulder grinned in relief and slapped him on the shoulder, on the 
way past him to the bathroom.  

He cleaned up quickly, anxious to be away from there before 
Langly or anyone else came back.  When he came back into the 
office, Byers was still sitting on the couch.  He looked up and 
gestured at the parcel on the table in front of him.  "What do 
you want to do with this stuff?"

"Give it to me, I'll take it back to the office and get it 
incinerated, notes and all."

Byers nodded, got up and handed the parcel to him.  "You mind 
you do that.  It's too dangerous."

At the door Mulder paused, trying once again to articulate his 
thoughts.  "John - "

Byers shrugged.  "It's okay, Mulder. It happened, we've got to 
live with it, that's all we can do."  

Byers held out his hand automatically and Mulder took it without 
thinking, and was unprepared for the electric tingle which shot 
through him.  He gripped tighter and heard Byers' almost 
inaudible gasp. They stared at each other, transfixed.  Mulder 
found his other hand coming up and resting on Byers' shoulder.  
The sensation was different now, not the nightmare 
uncontrollable imperative but a dreamy, languid relaxed feeling. 
 Mulder leaned forward and kissed Byers gently on the lips, 
confident this time that he was in complete control of himself 
and yet still feeling there was no reason at all he should not 
do this. Byers kissed back, responsive, gentle and sensual, and 
it was a long time before they broke apart reluctantly, smiling 
slightly embarrassed at each other.  

Byers gave him a gentle push.  "Go on.  Before we do something 
more that we'll regret."

Mulder took a deep breath.  "Yeah, you're right.  Bye, John" and 
in another minute he found himself outside the heavy steel 
reinforced door of the Gunmen's HQ, hearing the bolts being 
drawn across behind him.  For the first time in his friendship 
with the Gunmen, he found himself almost wishing he belonged on 
the other side of that bolted door.  

Back in the HQ Byers leaned on the other side of the door, 
catching his breath.  It had taken all his willpower to push 
Mulder out and shut the door behind him.  He wandered back into 
the office and down the corridor to the room he shared with 
Langly, and sat down on the big double bed.  

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tube.  Smiling to 
himself he turned it over in his hands before pushing it into 
the back of the bedside drawer.

Ringo Langly wasn't going to know what hit him.  


END

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