Triangle

Somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle...

"Mayday, mayday. This is Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. I'm on the SS Queen Anne." Mulder desperately twists the dial to another channel and barks into the microphone once again. "Ship in distress. Mayday, mayday."

There is the sound of static and a broken radio broadcast comes in more clearly as Mulder adjusts the radio knob.

"The British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless we heard from them that they are prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland a state of war would exist between us. No such undertaking has been received. Consequently, as of today, September 3, 1939 this country is at war with Germany."

Mulder sits listening, staring straight ahead in shock.

"Oh, sh.. "

The rattle of the door lock pulls him away from the disturbing radio broadcast and Mulder turns to assess the situation, peering into the darkness. He hears a strangely familiar, rumbling voice.

"Hallo? Hallo? Hallo?"

Mulder tries to place the voice as he watches the dark form enter the room. He struggles to make out a face but all he can see is the shape of a man, looking around the room. The radio broadcast rambles on in the background, largely forgotten.

"All cinemas, theatres and other places of entertainment are to be closed immediately until further notice. The evacuation of British children is going on smoothly and efficiently. The ministry of health says that great progress... "

As the man passes in front of the table, Mulder leaps out and throws himself on top of him, knocking them both into the radio, which is re-tuned to a boppy little Andrews Sisters tune. He takes a punch to the gut and returns an uppercut into the man's jaw with a loud grunt. While the soldier is reeling back from the blow, Mulder bends in low and headbutts him in the gut, driving him to the floor. He quickly climbs on top of him, yanks his gun out of its holster and flings it to the side, straddling him and pressing his arms to the floor.

A dazed and blinking Krycek looks up at him angrily.

"What the hell is going on? Krycek?"

The man sputters up at him in German, and Mulder's features contort into angry confusion.

"Speak English, you bastard!"

"Arschloch!"

Mulder leans in, his spittle spraying the soldier's cheeks as he growls. "I said English, ratfuck!"

"Asshole!"

Mulder grins wickedly. "So, you do speak English. Maybe you can tell me what the hell is going on here."

Glaring furiously, 1939 Krycek struggles in his hold, but Mulder leans in, using the weight of his body to still his struggles. He grunts as he feels the soldier's half-hard cock slide against his own inexplicably stiffening member. Both men freeze, shocked by the contact.

"Oh Gott!" The low growl comes from snarling lips as the soldier's hips press upward, seeking more contact.

Mulder gasps, eyes wide, mouth open, as he realizes the soldier's intentions. His lids flutter closed on a forced groan as the soldier hits his mark, driving a now totally hardened cock up into Mulder's similarly full crotch. He looks down in shock to see the Krycek-soldier's eyes struggling to remain open, the soft pink lips parted on shuddering, panting breaths.

Mulder leans in low, bringing his face to within inches of the other man's, and smelling his sweat and musk. His voice is a shaky rumble.

"What do you want, Krycek?"

The intense green eyes under his clear and stare up into his face and Mulder feels the chest below him rise and fall with deep breaths. The soldier says nothing, just staring into Mulder's eyes. Mulder feels himself throb against the man under him, aroused by just the intensity of the gaze. He sighs quietly and struggles not to let his own excitement show, though it's a fool's game, seeing as how his dick is grinding down into Krycek's in a steady, hard press. The gaze is not broken by either man, and Mulder's lips curve up into a slight, cruel smile. He grinds his hips slightly into the other man and watches the soft lips open on a gasp as the long lashes flutter against the pale cheeks, the green eyes closing in ecstasy.

"That what you want?" Mulder whispers snidely, leaning in and bathing Krycek's ear with his hot, moist breath.

"Ja! Oh! Ja!" The man gasps out, bucking his hips up into Mulder's, causing both men to lose their breath. Krycek strains against Mulder's hands, struggling to use his arms, and because he can't do much without the use of his own, Mulder hisses in his ear.

"I've got your gun, asshole. If you try anything, I'll blow your brains out, no matter what decade we're in."

The soldier nods furiously, undulating beneath Mulder and moaning, and finally Mulder lets one wrist go, grabbing the weapon he divested the soldier of earlier and quickly pressing it against the man's sleek, dark head. The soldier rolls his head slightly, as if Mulder were caressing him, and reaches down with his free hand to yank up on Mulder's filthy, wet T- shirt.

Mulder lets his other hand go and uses his free hand to begin unbuttoning the man's uniform, his only thought getting this long, lean, well-muscled body naked and writhing at his mercy. The soldier uses his freed hands to rip the T-shirt off over Mulder's head and then reaches between them, scratching Mulder's belly as he roughly works to unfasten the button and zipper of his waterlogged jeans.

"Scheisse!" The soldier hisses, unable to get the wet zipper to work.

Mulder decides they both probably know how to strip themselves much faster than they can undress each other. He leans back, settling in hard over Krycek's pulsing crotch, and levels the gun at his face.

"Strip."

The wide green eyes stare at him in confusion and he frowns, eyes narrowing. Then he reaches down and works his zipper down with one hand, then grabs Krycek's hand and puts it to the uniform buttons roughly. The pale pink lips break into an understanding grin and the soldier uses both hands to very quickly unbutton his shirt, undo his belt, and unfasten his pants. Mulder watches for a moment, mesmerized by the man's efficient, graceful fingers, then shakes himself out of his reverie and helps pull the man's pants down his thighs, sliding down his legs and then kneeling to the side, gun still pointed at Krycek's head. Herr Krycek doesn't even look at it as he sits up in one hard move and rips off his uniform shirt and undershirt, tossing them to the side with a satisfied smile. He then bends down and pulls off his jackboots quickly, tears off his socks and divests himself of pants and boxers, never leaving his seated position on the floor.

Mulder watches, mouth open, as the pale, muscular body is unveiled before him. When Herr Krycek is completely naked, he leans back on his hands confidently, spreading his legs with a sultry grin.

Mulder can't help but stare at the proud, stiff, dark cock pointing up from the dark nest of hair. He raises himself to stand and kicks off his shoes, pushing his jeans and underwear to his ankles, sparing a glance up from time to time to remind the soldier that the gun is still in his hand and pointed at his head. The soldier only stares back, making no attempt to hide the fact that he is entranced by Mulder's own long, stiff cock as it bounces free of the cotton knit and denim. Mulder kicks his clothes to the side and narrows his eyes. He takes his pulsing erection in hand, breathing hard.

"Suck it."

The soldier merely stares up at Mulder, licking his pretty pink lips. Mulder rolls his eyes in frustration. Apparently this man really cannot understand English, because the look on his face suggests he's more than ready to comply with Mulder's orders. He lets go of his cock and brings two fingers up to his own lips, opening them and sinking his fingers deeply into his mouth. He uses his tongue to lick from the base to his fingertips, sucking noisily before letting go, never taking his eyes off the man on the floor. The soldier watches the demonstration, entranced, mouth parted on stuttering breaths and his own pink tongue licks hungrily at his bottom lip. As Mulder grabs hold of his cock again, raising his eyebrows impatiently, Herr Krycek nods and scrambles to his knees, eager to obey.

Mulder staggers back with the force of it as the soldier grabs him roughly by the hips and eagerly begins sucking and licking, slurping and grunting hungrily. Mulder gasps at the ferocity of the sensations, struggling to stay on his feet, using his gun hand to steady himself on the soldier's head as it bobs in front of him. He throws his head back, taken completely by surprise at the raw lust displayed by this strange German Krycek sucking his cock. He very quickly feels his orgasm being wrenched from him by the hungry, hot, strong mouth and pulls out, gasping.

"Enough. Stop. Enough. Jesus."

The soldier looks up at him, lips glistening with drool, as he licks his lips, eyes confused and wary. Mulder points at the floor.

"On your hands and knees." His voice is shaky but firm, and he can hardly believe he's saying this. He's always known that this is what he really wants to do to Alex Krycek, but he'd never let himself show that kind of weakness to the real double-crossing, triple-agent. But here, on a 1939 cruise ship in the Bermuda triangle in what is most likely a trauma- induced hallucination, he's finally going to fuck the holy hell out of him once and for all.

The Krycek soldier backs away, still on his knees but doesn't turn around or put his hands down to the floor. Mulder raises his gun and slowly walks around behind him, pressing the barrel against his neck. He can feel the man trembling below him and can hear his shuddering breaths. This is going to be so fucking good. He shoves him forward roughly with his other hand, using his foot to give him an extra push. The soldier finally gets the idea and steadies himself on hands and knees, his back and shoulder muscles bunching with anticipation.

Mulder stares for a moment at the gorgeous body laid out for his taking. Strong, perfectly muscled back tapering to a narrow waist and hips and tight, rounded buttocks. Firm, strong thighs slightly spread, heavy, dark balls hanging down between them, glimpse of that thick cock jerking into view from time to time as he breathes. Mulder sways forward in anticipation, unable to tear his eyes away from the pale skin backlit by the radio dial's soft glow. He grips his erection with his free hand, staring at the cleft between those round, firm buttocks as he strokes and squeezes himself, prolonging the moment of conquering.

The soldier turns his head to look back at Mulder, confused at what's taking so long, and his mouth drops open at the sight of Mulder pleasuring himself, eyes trained on his ass.

"Tu es!" he grits out, spreading his legs wider and leaning forward, opening himself further.

Mulder groans and goes down on his knees behind him, sliding his shaft between the cheeks of his ass, trailing the gun barrel down along his spine. The soldier shivers and moans, pressing back into Mulder's caress.

Mulder humps against the sweet, cushiony cheeks for a moment or two and curses the absence of condoms and lube. The former he decides is probably not as necessary, seeing that AIDS isn't a concern in this time and any other venereal disease is treatable in his. The latter is sorely wished for as Mulder spits repeatedly into his hand and slicks the small opening bared before him.

Herr Krycek's hips buck and tremble as Mulder moistens his hole, and then Mulder presses one long, wet finger gently against the tight pucker, pushing and moving his finger in a small circle, willing it to open. It opens more quickly than he might have expected and he realizes that this soldier isn't exactly a virgin. He smirks and sinks a second finger into the writhing ass, steadying himself with his gunhand gripping Krycek's hip. Krycek moans and shivers beneath him, lowering his chest closer to the floor, his ass open and high and ready for Mulder. Finally Mulder can wait no longer. He spits copiously into his palm once more and slicks up his cock, gasping as just that brings him closer to his release. Panting and shaking, he guides the tip of his cock to the dark, relaxed opening and gives a firm push.

As the fat mushroom head of his cock pops in past the ring of muscle, the soldier cries out softly, his head coming up and back. Mulder stops a moment, struggling to regain his breath, then begins to slowly, steadily, push himself the rest of the way in, wriggling his hips to ease the way, feeling Krycek first freeze in surrender, then hesitantly begin to push back at him. Finally, he's balls-deep in Krycek's ass.

He lets out a deep, shuddering groan and falls forward over the strong, pale back, the heat of naked flesh on flesh burning him and adding to the wave of pleasure washing through his body.

"Oohhh God, Krycek..." he moans, pressing his lips against the sweaty shoulder beneath them. The soldier arches back into the soft touch with a whimpering groan. Mulder feels the hot, tight flesh squeezing him pulse and contract and he feels the intense need to move. He pulls himself up off the body of the soldier and steadies himself, hands on the soldier's hips, and begins to pull back.

The German Krycek moans as the length of flesh is pulled from his clutching body, then grunts loudly as it is rammed back in. Mulder quickly sets into a pounding rhythm, biting his lower lip painfully in an effort not to lose it too quickly.

The soldier below him is moving with him, impaling himself even more deeply with each of Mulder's forward thrusts. Mulder very quickly feels his climax coiling in his balls and whines, tasting blood as his teeth break the skin of his full lower lip.

"God! Jesus! God!" Mulder gasps, unable to believe how good it feels to be buried in this man's body, the pleasure all the sweeter knowing how badly this man wants him to be there. Suddenly, even more than he wants to lose control in this man's heat, he wants to hear the man scream out his own release at Mulder's hands.

Adjusting his hips so that his thrusts don't come as far out, and thus are deep and hard and directed at the man's inner pleasure center, Mulder reaches around, gun still in hand, safety on. He lets the gun dangle by the trigger guard from his finger as he slides his loose fist up and down the hot, pulsing cock of his conquest. Sooner than he had expected, the man throws back his head and yells a string of German, and Mulder feels the organ spasm and pulse in his hand as it shoots its load across the man's belly and all over the wooden floor.

The intense, squeezing contractions of the soldier's orgasm drive Mulder right over the edge, and with a cry, he jams himself as deeply as he can, going rigid as the waves of intense sensation wrack his body for endless seconds. He collapses on top of Herr Krycek's body in a boneless heap as his shudders subside, driving them both to the floor with loud 'oofs.'

"Sorry," Mulder murmurs against the man's shoulder. The soldier grunts in response, not sounding too put-out. Mulder breathes for a few minutes, then carefully pulls his deflating cock out of the sticky sheath of flesh which just gave him such unexpected pleasure. He rolls off the body of the man under him, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

The soldier breathes for a few moments, then stirs, starting to get to his hands and knees once more. Mulder lifts the gun tiredly, not bothering to flip off the safety. He watches as the soldier slowly gets to his knees, watching Mulder, then leans back on his heels. His hands come up to his sides in a gesture of surrender, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his eyes gleaming in the near-darkness.

Mulder lets one corner of his own mouth twitch in an almost grin in response. The soldier then leans to the side, never taking his eyes off Mulder, and takes his uniform shirt between thumb and forefinger carefully. Mulder tightens his grip on the gun, a look of confusion washing the amusement from his face. The soldier drags the shirt over and then lifts it slowly in front of him, extending it toward Mulder.

"Nimm es."

Mulder reaches a trembling hand forward and takes hold of the shirt, brows furrowed in puzzlement at the soft, low whisper. For not the first time that day, he desperately wishes he had taken more than just first-year German in college. He vows to brush up when he gets back to D.C....and his own decade.

He takes the shirt, bringing it to his lap, carefully setting it to the side of his sticky crotch.

"Thanks."

"You..are...velcome." the soldier says in halting English with a warm smile.

Mulder returns the smile and leans over to get his own slightly damp T-shirt. He offers it to the soldier, running it softly over his thigh to let him know he can use it to clean himself off. The soldier takes it with a grateful grin and begins to wipe himself clean. He then leans forward, folding the shirt to expose a clean area, and very gently wipes around Mulder's flaccid cock. Mulder holds his breath until the Krycek double is done, spreading his thighs slightly to make it easier.

He gets to his feet then, and quickly dons the soldier's uniform, balling up his well-utilized T-shirt and shoving it into the corner behind the desk. Someone will be very surprised to find that there, he thinks with a smirk. He stands, adjusting the hat, and looks down at his cabin-mate. The beautiful soldier gets to his feet gracefully and stands naked before Mulder, totally unselfconscious. Mulder feels his heart speed up, not knowing what to expect from this mysterious Krycek Doppelganger. The man's face softens in a heated smile and he leans forward slowly, his hands coming up. Mulder makes no move to stop him, unafraid of this man who has just given him a disguise which will greatly improve his chances of survival. He feels soft hands take his face and then that so-familiar, passion-dazed face leans in to his and presses soft lips against his firmly.

He brings his own hand up, stroking through the short, dark hair as he deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to the tongue pressing at his lips. His mouth is filled with tongue and then he pushes back, exploring the other man's mouth with an answering intensity, feeling dizzy at the complete abandon of this kiss. He presses himself tightly to the naked soldier and then suddenly feels himself being shoved away, and the man steps back, a look of hard intent in his eyes. He bends and puts on the underwear and T-shirt Mulder left for him, then straightens into ramrod posture, chin held high.

"Schlag mich!" He says sternly.

"What? I don't understand..." Mulder begins, and the dark green eyes looking into his narrow, and he watches the man double his hands into fists. Before he can even step back in surprise, the soldier punches himself in the jaw, hard enough to rattle his teeth together. Mulder frowns in shock, then realizes what the man is asking. If he doesn't make it look like the man struggled and lost, he will almost certainly be killed as a traitor. He closes his eyes a moment and opens them, nodding slowly in understanding. The soldier lifts his chin again, giving Mulder a mischievous grin of encouragement.

Mulder takes a deep breath, and putting all of the force he can behind it so that he will only have to do it once, throws a roundhouse punch into the side of the soldier's face, knocking him several feet to the side, bouncing him off the wall, and sending him to the floor, unconscious.

Mulder shakes his pained fist and leans over the soldier to make sure his breathing is steady. He checks his pulse and it thrums strongly beneath his fingers. He leans in to feel for his breath. As the warm puffs of air issue forth from between barely parted lips, Mulder presses in and licks delicately at the blood on the top one.

"If I'd known this was all it would take to get you on my side, Krycek, I wouldn't have wasted so much time." He presses a gentle kiss to the soft, slack lips and then stands.

"Can't wait to get back to the nineties and test this new theory of mine." He straightens his cap and with a last look back at the man sprawled on the floor of the cabin, steps out into the hall to try to figure out how to get back to his own time and his own mysterious dark soldier.