============================= Kraken By Jessica Harris July 1999 ============================= With one slow thrust I slide home inside of him, and I see it start to happen, see him start to spiral away deep down inside himself. He makes love like it hurts, like it's some dangerous but essential act. Sometimes I'm sure it *does* hurt, I can smell it in his sweat as his body tenses and writhes in some fierce inner struggle, his muscles clenching so tight I'm afraid of doing him damage. But "keep going" he grinds out from between gritted teeth, determined to win this battle against himself. I'm still surprised that he wants it this way so often, pinned down, my cock inside him. It's not what I'd expected. His leather and gunmetal surface is no lie, he's a dangerous man, but when I stroke the taut skin of his belly he trembles. His eyes have darkened now to an undersea green and he shuts them, turns his face away even as he moves more urgently against me. It's a long way away, wherever he goes, and sometimes I think I could be anyone, here on top of him. I suppose I should find that upsetting. But - When I watch his eyes darken I think of the ocean, of the depths where the pressure alone could kill you, and it gives me vertigo, the thought of how deep you could sink. I have nightmares about it sometimes, the airless darkness, the fish with glowing eyes on stalks, the massive sharp-toothed things so old we have no name for them. It's strange, really, we carry the ocean within us, it's salt and water I lick from his skin as it pools in the hollow of his throat, but the ocean depths are as alien and inimical to us as anything that comes from the skies. I'm just as glad he doesn't take me down where he goes. He's pinching his own nipple so hard now that I swear it's bruising before my eyes, and I pry his fingers away, lean in to take it hard between my teeth, and he makes a sound that I can't, oh god, can't even *begin* to describe. It echoes through his whole body and into mine, a tight hard shiver up my spine that just makes me bite down harder, and his one warm hand grabs roughly at the back of my neck and holds me there. He won't look at me and he never calls my name, but sometimes he does this, grabs me and holds on tight, and this is when I know that he needs me, needs someone who will let him go where he needs to go and still make sure he comes back. And I should be honest here, that's not the only reason he needs me, he needs me because he knows that I can't judge, that he doesn't have to take me with him, I have depths of my own that answer to his. For the ocean is in me too, it's my own salt-water sweat that oils the constrained slide of our bodies here. I have almost no leverage pulled tight to his chest like this, but our bodies struggle and grind against each other and he buffets me from beneath like waves until I clutch his hips so hard he growls in pain, and I can't be like this with anyone else, could never leave these bruises or close my teeth so hard on anyone else's flesh. His cock rubs hard and slick between us and his grip on my neck weakens as his breathing grows harsher. I slide up a little until we're face to face, watching the movements of his eyes beneath their lids as I run my hands up his sides and place them around his throat. That makes his eyes snap open, and I look into their depths and feel my own ancient nameless monsters stirring. I brush my thumbs up and down his windpipe, a little harder each time, and he shudders helplessly at every stroke, the muscles of his ass twitching and tightening around me. I brace myself and plow into him harder, sweating and breathless, and when the monsters rise to the surface and fasten sharp teeth on the base of my spine I tighten my hands and he gives a voiceless strangled yelp and comes with me, we sink together. What brings me to the surface again is his struggle beneath me. He's scrabbling at my chest, so I pull out and he rolls violently away. He's shaking, shaking so hard that I can hear his teeth clack together, and he gropes blindly until his hand finds the pillow and clutches it tightly. When I reach out to touch his sweat-soaked side I see that I am shaking too, and for a moment I am dizzy and afraid, adrift. At my touch he goes rigid, then suddenly thrusts the pillow away and rolls back towards me, curling into my body and biting my neck hard enough that I gasp and flinch. "*Fuck*, Mulder," he rasps in my ear, but here in the dark it feels like a benediction, and I kiss him gently before I fall into sleep.