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Rodrick hurt. His bones ached. His head pounded like wildebeests' hooves clomping on the dirt of the Savannah. His eyes, bloodshot and teary, stung like bees piercing his skin, their angry buzzing noises echoing through his empty and dull head. A beer was in his hand. He didn't normally drink beers, he preferred heavier drinks, but this one was different.

It was empty already, its neck crusted with long-dry beer. Its scent was different too. Instead of smelling musty as damp, a faint scent of cologne and aftershave clung to it. His cologne and aftershave. A tear slowly slid down Rodrick's face, the young adult kind of feeling like dying.

"Rodrick!" A snappy yell echoed from the downstairs. "Come down, idiot!"

"Okay! I-I'm coming, Frank!" The dark-haired man stuttered back, wiping his face, putting the bottle back where it had been laying. "Let me just go to the bathroom."

He walked into the bathroom, splashing his face with water, his eyes meeting his face in the mirror. A large, blue and purple bruise had clustered in his cheek, from yesterday. It was Rodrick's fault, really. He hadn't listened to Frank.

Whiskers poked at his chin and neck, his overgrown hair scraggly and flying everywhere. He combed his fingers through his hair, allowing it to remain somewhat flat. He sighed, turning away, not wanting to look at his reflection of pale skin and hurting cheekbones.

The young adult reached the stairs, clambering down them, to the kitchen, where Frank was seemingly cheerfully making a few pancakes for the two of them. A smile plastered his face, but his eyes, stone-cold, didn't share the same expression.

"Hey, Roddy." Frank said, his teeth gritted. "What's up, honey?"

His boyfriend's fingers went through his hair, grasping it rather tightly. He gave him a kiss, and pushed him away, smiling. Rodrick returned the smile, though a bit half-heartedly. His cold eyes glinted, as if Rodrick didn't know where he'd been last night. Probably off with some girl, just cheating on him.

"Hey, Frank?" Rodrick muttered, rubbing his toes against the ground. "I-i was wondering if I could go out today. Just walk a bit."

"You're a dumbass, Rodrick! I won't let you leave!" Responded Frank in a loud voice. "Make sure you bring a jacket, at least. And eat some food. I made us food for a reason!"

Oh, sorry. I thought that was for your one night stand. He thought, glancing at the ground so Frank wouldn't see the glare on his face.

"Thanks, lover." The young adult replied, this time out loud, smiling to his boyfriend.

Lover... Such an interesting word. Was Frank really that? Did he love being with Frank? There was no other place to go now, anyway. H had no connections, no one to speak with. He couldn't just show up at his family's house, especially like this. Besides, Frank loved and cared for him. It didn't matter how he felt, right?

Frank handed him a pancake, grabbing a large plate and walking up the stairs. He disappeared, leaving Rodrick at the mercy of his own mind. The dark-haired man sighed, putting his hands into his face. He ate the pancakes, though they were starchy and dry, drinking water with it. He got up and cleared his plate, wiping it clean with his sweatshirt. Frank would kill him if it wasn't clean.

"I'm leaving, Frank!" He yelled up the stairs, receiving only the rhythmic creaking of a bed. The only answer he needed.

He put on his coat, pulling it over his limber shoulders, zipping it up to his neck. He stepped out, enjoying the crisp feeling of an Autumn morning. He sighed, smiling. It felt like the first real smile in a long time.

The car was parked out front. He got into it, feeling the keys where he had put them earlier. He turned on the car, pulling out of their driveway, speeding off, but making sure not to go too fast.

Even if his mind didn't, his heart knew the route to where he was going. He drove down the interstate, exiting on the first exit. Towards the open fields. He sped past gravestones, their gray color flying through his teary vision. And then, he stopped.

Turning the car right, he pulled in through the open gate, driving slowly up the gravel pathway. He put the car to a stop, climbing out, a tear slowly streaking down his face. He walked to where it was, stopping there, glancing down.

The young adult took a long, deep breath, collapsing onto his knees on the cool, frosted grass. A gravestone. A simple, plain gravestone.

The words:

R.I.P. Fox Mulder
The best man anyone could know.
1961-2017

He felt his soul shatter into a thousand pieces. He.. He had loved him. He loved Mulder. It was too late now. He couldn't hold his ex in his arms, comfort him, speak to him like he used to. He couldn't. That was over. All of it was over. It was never coming back.

oKAY ITS LATE BUT I WAS REALLY TIRED LAST NIGHT SORRY. OKAY HOPE YOU LOVE IT AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU <3