😍 – a first kiss (muldah)
It was an accident, Doggett wanted to tell himself. Entirely unintentional. Something born out of instincts that were meant to be long dead.
But Mulder had made him lunch, of all things. Mulder, who had all the cooking ability of a university student, had decided that today he’d give Doggett a sandwich and some greens and fruit in a brown paper bag like it was his first day at school.
He didn’t know why. Granted, since Scully’s first visit to his home, Mulder had been far more amicable, but the lunch had thrown him off so severely it was like his mind had shut down. All that was left then was instinct-- the memory left in his body.
And apparently what his body could remember was that the last time he had someone call to him before leaving for work, asking him to wait because he forgot his lunch, this person had been his ex-wife.
So, in place of confusion (which was deadly in a world like this), instinct gave way to taking the bag in hand, as he used to forever ago. It gave way to a ‘thank you’ coming out of his mouth. It gave way to Doggett leaning in and kissing Mulder on the lips with a ‘goodbye’.
And then, as if this was all natural, he left and shut the door after him without even sparing a glance at Mulder’s face, and it was only when he was sat alone in his transporter that the horror began to set in.
It would’ve stuck with him all day if Doggett wasn’t good at compartmentalising. But as it was, the experience was packed away, sealed with duct tape, and shoved into the far corner of his mind.
It returned in full force as soon as he got home, though.
Oh, he still opened the door as usual, of course. And he entered as usual, and shrugged his coat off as usual, and undid the buttons to his suit jacket as usual, but instead of opening his mouth and telling Mulder he was home, he hesitated.
And John Doggett wasn’t supposed to hesitate, not in this world.
In an effort to keep moving, he tried to go upstairs as quietly as possible. Maybe they wouldn’t have to acknowledge it. Maybe Mulder wouldn’t ask him about it. Maybe Doggett was safe.
He’d just wash the containers Mulder had given him later at night while the other man slept. Easy peasy, right?
Except he walked right into his closed bedroom door, split the wood with the impact against his face, and brought a cracking noise that was definitely way, way too loud.
