Part One
Same old show in a different town of another kind
And I'd like to change my life, and you know I would
On the road it's a heavy load, but I'll get by
Friday, 10:35 p.m.
Fox Mulder moved deftly through the dark apartment, stopping
only when he reached his desk. The soft click of the lamp switch
was followed by the dim illumination of the immediate area. The
rest of the room remained fairly black. Forty watts in a room this
size just didn't do it.
He removed his charcoal suit jacket and tossed it across the swivel
chair behind the desk. He loosened his tie even as he fished around
under the stacks of files and papers. His hand came in contact with
a long, smooth object. He curled his fingers around the cool
hardness and pulled the remote control out of the mess. He flicked
the television on, adding a bit more light to the muted gloom. He
removed his holster and laid it across the coffee table, then settled
back onto the sofa.
He really didn't know why he turned the t.v. on, he was in no mood
to watch anything. Even a selection from his video collection held
no allure tonight. All he really wanted to do was sleep. But sleep
eluded him—like the meanings of his fragmented dreams. Like the
truth behind the disappearance of Samantha. Like the simple joy he
might find in the welcoming smile of a loved one as he walked
through the door, at the end of a long day.
His eyes slid closed. Not that there was any sleep to be found
behind his lids. There was just nothing else to do... yet. Mulder's
eyes snapped open at the faint rustle that came from the direction of
his bedroom. In one fluid movement, he spun to his feet and
released his Sig Sauer from the holster.
There had been no sign of forced entry. No clues that anyone had
been there. He knew he was exhausted and those two whiskey
sours that he'd tossed down at the airport bar before he came
home, probably didn't do much to help his already dulled senses,
but that was a noise, he was sure of it.
Mulder crept to the doorway then flattened himself out against the
wall, gun positioned just parallel with his head. He took two deep
breaths, then kicked the door open. Bloodshot hazel eyes squinted
into the almost dark room, determining that there was no one there.
Cautiously, he entered the room, eyes scanning the darkness as he
moved toward the closet. He nudged the already partially open
door with his foot and quickly stepped into the doorway, pointing
his Sig out before him.
Nothing.
Immediately, his head turned toward the bed. He moved over to it
and flipped the cover off. He jumped back, pointing the gun
downward. After a second, he bent to have a look. Again, nothing.
Satisfied that it might have been his imagination after all, he secured
his weapon and left the room—just in time as it turned out, to see a
dark figure breaking from the bathroom into the hall. Mulder gave
chase and tackled the intruder just before he reached the door. The
two struggled briefly before Mulder was able to turn the man over
onto his back. His eyes glittered with a murderous rage when the all
too familiar face became visible.
"Krycek?!? What are you doing here?"
Krycek smirked up at him. "Lovely to see you too, Mulder. Miss
me?"
His answer came in a sharp blow to the jaw.
Krycek's eyes squeezed shut as he ran his tongue over his split
bottom lip.
"Shit!"
Mulder held the collar of his jacket together in one hand, almost
cutting off his air, fist curled, poised to resume the assault.
"What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?" His only answer
came in a tight gasp. He loosened his grip slightly. "Now talk."
"I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd come by for a little
visit... and this is the welcome I get."
Mulder startled him with a stinging backhand.
"Usually, when people visit, they actually want to see who it is
they're visiting. Now for once in your fucking miserable life, tell the
truth. What do you want?"
Krycek raised a hand carefully to his cheek and rubbed it. He gave
no verbal response, but the look in his green eyes was somehow
response enough. And it unnerved Mulder... a lot. Suddenly he was
very aware that they were on the floor and he was straddling
Krycek's slim hips. The faint stirring in his body shocked him. He
rose to his feet, pulling Krycek up by his jacket. He raised his
weapon and trained it on his former partner.
"One funny move and I'll blow your head off." Mulder dragged him
to the sofa and threw him down on it. "Who sent you here?"
"No one."
He released the safety. "I'll give you five seconds to re-think your
answer."
Krycek looked up at him with the same disturbing gaze that had
made him so uneasy just a few minutes before. He spoke softly.
"Would you really kill me?"
"Try me."
He sighed softly. "I haven't done anything. I only got here a few
minutes before you did. You were supposed to be gone till
tomorrow."
"Gee, sorry I ruined you plans," Mulder sneered. "Which were
what, by the way? Would I have been killed or simply maimed?"
"Mulder, you know that if they wanted you dead or incapacitated,
you would have been by now."
"They. Now we're getting somewhere. Who exactly are they?"
"You know who they are."
"What did they send you here for?"
Krycek studied him for a moment, then spoke. "I'm going to reach
in my pocket. One hand, okay?"
In a second, Mulder was there, slapping his hand away from his
jacket. He reached into the pocket and withdrew a small device.
"They wanted to monitor you. I was supposed to plant that."
Mulder laughed softly, almost to himself, then addressed Krycek.
"You know how many times they've tried to monitor me? I
thought they would have given up by now." He tossed the tiny
camera onto the table. His eyes narrowed on his unwelcome
company. "And why you?" Any drone could have hooked this up.
I'd have thought they'd have better things for cold-blooded killers
to do."
Krycek responded softly, his eyes cast downward. "I didn't kill
your father. Or Scully's sister. I wish you could believe that. And I
volunteered to do this."
Mulder glared at him. "First of all, what do you care what I believe
and second, why would you volunteer to come here?"
Krycek hesitated, then looked up into Mulder's eyes. "I could cover
both of those questions in one answer, but..." He shook his head,
almost imperceptibly and lowered it once again.
"But what? Answer them!"
"I don't think you really want me to."
Mulder advanced toward him and held the muzzle of his weapon to
Krycek's forehead. "Yeah, I really do."
"Do you ever wonder, Mulder, why when you're around me, you
can't seem to control your violent tendencies?"
"Gee, I don't know Krycek. Couldn't have anything to do with the
fact that you killed my father!"
Krycek raged back, not caring that there was a cocked pistol aimed
at his head. "For the last fucking time, I did not kill your fucking
father!" He took full advantage of Mulder's momentary
discomposure and lunged at him. They rolled onto the floor,
wrestling for the gun. Krycek managed to straddle his chest and
kneel on his arms. Mulder howled with rage, as his Sig was pried
from his hand.
"I've had enough of this shit," Krycek heaved, holding the weapon
against Mulder's temple. Mulder glared up at him defiantly.
"Go ahead, man. You can do it." He shrugged "Piece of cake,
right?"
Krycek shook his head, almost sadly. "You don't get it, do you?"
He secured the gun, then gently drew the barrel down Mulder's
cheek. "I don't want to kill you." Mulder swallowed against the
huge lump that had suddenly risen in his throat. "I just want... I want
to talk."
"About?"
"About you... me." Krycek got up and handed the gun back to him.
Mulder rose to his feet and backed away.
"Awful big chance you're taking, giving me my weapon back. How
do you know I won't kill you where you stand?"
"I don't know for sure. I'm just... I'm reading something here. In
your voice... your eyes. It's something I've suspected... for some
time. Or maybe I just hoped for it... I don't know."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"We're attracted to each other, you and I."
"What?"
"From that first day... in the bullpen. I felt it and I think you did,
too."
"Oh, you're a sicker puppy than I thought you were," Mulder said,
with total disgust.
"Then put me out of my misery. Go ahead, you've got the gun." He
stood, waiting.
Mulder did not raise the gun, but he didn't put it down, either. "Get
out of here, you goddamn fag. If it's an ass fucking you're looking
for, try the bar downtown. I'm sure somebody there will be more
than happy to oblige you."
"I don't want to go to any bar. I am where I want to be. With the
man I want to be with."
"You just said it, fairy. Man. I'm a man!"
"Believe me, I know you're a man. I wouldn't want you if you
weren't."
Mulder began to pace. "I don't believe this. I don't fucking
believe this." He whirled to face Krycek. "Get our ass out of here,
before I pound you into nothing!"
"And that's the only way I can get you to touch me, isn't it? It's the
only way you can put your hands on me without feeling any guilt or
doubt." Mulder began to pace again, shaking his head. Krycek
continued. "The last time you were being monitored, before you
found the device, I witnessed your encounter with a blonde
woman." Mulder's head snapped around and he glared at Krycek.
"The earth didn't exactly move for you, did it?" Before Mulder
could respond, he went on. "Oh, I give you credit. She left here a
very happy camper, but you got very little, if nothing from it."
"She turned out not to be my type... simple as that."
"No, she wasn't your type at all, you're right about that." He
lowered his voice, almost to a whisper. "It's just you and me here,
Mulder. Tell me what your type really is."
Mulder shrugged. "My tastes run more to petite redheads."
"Scully?!?" Krycek roared with bitter laughter. "Get off it!"
"You asked, and not that it's any of you fucking business, but I told
you. I've wanted Scully for years, now!"
"That's the biggest bunch of shit I've ever heard! You don't want
her! Sure, you're partners, and sure you spend more time together
than most married couples, but there's about as much sexual
attraction between you two as there is between that coffee table and
your couch! Do you know an Alexandra or an Alexis?"
Mulder knitted his brows and placed his hands low on his hips.
"What?"
"Answer."
"No! What the hell has that got to do with anything?"
"I've watched you some nights, in front of the t.v., on the
couch... jerking off."
"Is there no fucking part of my life that's mine alone?"
Krycek answered his question with a question. "Did you know I
could read lips?"
"So?"
"I've watched you touching yourself, stroking you cock with such
gentle hands..."
Mulder's respiration deepened.
"I've seen you mouth the name 'Alex' on more than one occasion."
Mulder was stricken. He looked as though his knees would give out
on him at any moment. Krycek pressed on. "Were you imagining
that I was here with you?"
"No."
"That it was my tongue sliding up and down on you, instead of
your fingers?"
"No!"
Mulder practically fell backward against the desk. Krycek advanced
and stood before him.
"Look at yourself. You're wrecked. All because of a few words
that I said. What would happen right now if I touched you?"
Mulder gritted his teeth. "I'd break your fucking hand."
"Cut the shit Fox," Krycek said gently. "You're not fooling either
one of us. Give in," he whispered as his hand slid tentatively up
Mulder's chest to the wild pulse in his throat. "Let me give you
what you need."
Mulder whimpered softly as he felt the warm pressure of this mortal
enemy's lips against his. Krycek brushed against his mouth a couple
of times before pulling away. "Tell me what you want, Fox. You
can have me any way you want me. Just tell me."
For a moment, it looked as though Mulder would do just that—just
for a moment. Suddenly, violently, he shoved Krycek away.
"Get out! Get the fuck out of here and don't you ever let me see
your face again, or I swear, I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
He picked up the nearest object—the phone—and hurled it against
the wall. He stumbled toward the sofa, but before he could make it,
crumpled to the floor and lay there, arms wrapped around himself,
shuddering.
Krycek swore softly and kneeled beside Mulder's prone body.
Carefully, he lay behind him and tucked his arm around his chest.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you. I just came here to plant
the camera. And I only did that because it was a way for me to
keep some kind of physical contact with you. I never intended to
actually meet up with you. I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it. It's
been so long since I've spoken with you. I missed your voice. I
missed your smell. I never intended to tell you. I knew that this
would turn your life inside out and still, I did it." He paused for a
second, then continued. "You're right about me. All the times you
called me a dirty, worthless son of a bitch, you were right. The
only real thing in my life was my feelings for you. And now I've
gone and blown that to hell."
Mulder didn't move. Krycek wasn't even sure he was breathing. He
lay there, eyes closed, arms still wrapped tightly around himself.
"I'm leaving, Fox," Krycek murmured in his ear. "I promise you,
you'll never see me again." He attempted to get up, but was
prevented by Mulder's hand, which had closed around the wrist
draped over is chest.
"Don't go. Please... Alex."
Shocked green eyes met glazed hazel eyes.
"Are you sure?"
Mulder nodded slowly. "Don't leave."
The man who Alex Krycek had always considered to be the
toughest, most self-assured person he'd ever known, had suddenly
taken on a whole new persona. So much hurt, so much... insecurity
and need. Krycek's heart pounded in his chest.
What do I do, now?
What do you mean, what do you do, now? You stay, stupid. You
show him who you really are.
He resettled his body and pulled Mulder tightly against it. "I won't
leave you," he whispered into his hair. "I promise."
They lay together on the floor in silence for a while, then Mulder
stirred slightly. "I'm so tired," he said, almost inaudibly.
"Why don't you go to bed?" Krycek smiled into the back of his
neck. "I give you my word, I won't kill you in your sleep."
"You're word isn't worth a whole hell of a lot, Krycek."
"What happened to 'Alex'?"
No answer.
He slipped his hand under Mulder's cheek and turned his face, so
that they were eye to eye.
"You've got no reason in the world to trust me but... I won't hurt
you. Now, you'll either believe that, or you won't."
"What, are there a couple of goons waiting in the shadows to take
care of me, for you?"
Krycek shook his head, vehemently. "No. No, no. There's no one
waiting anywhere... not that I know of, anyway. And even if there
was... they'd have to come through me to get to you."
Mulder shifted onto his back and stared up into those incredibly
deep green eyes. "So, I'm supposed to believe that while I'm
sleeping, you're going to stand guard over me?"
Krycek shrugged one shoulder. "If that's what you want to call it.
I'll just hang out and watch t.v. or something. It's been a long, long
time since I spent an evening in a warm apartment just doing
nothing."
Mulder regarded him through half-closed lids. "Where do you
live?"
Krycek's gaze fell to a patch of carpet, just beyond Mulder's head.
"Nowhere."
"You gotta sleep somewhere."
"Usually, I just grab a motel room wherever I happen to be." Not
waiting for the next question, Krycek patted him gently on the chest
and said, "Come on, get up. Time for bed." He hoisted Mulder up
and started to steer him toward the bedroom.
"I usually just crash on the sofa."
"You ever think that maybe that's the reason why you don't sleep
well?"
"You watch me all night, or what?"
"Sometimes."
"That's more than just a little unnerving, Krycek."
"Not any more so than anything else I've said to you tonight, I'll
bet."
Mulder looked away and said nothing.
"Nevermind. Come on."
Krycek led him without protest, to the bedroom. When they
reached the bed, Mulder dropped down onto it and stretched out on
his back.
"Aren't you even going to undress?"
"Too tired."
"Want me to help you?"
"No," he snapped, more irritated with himself for considering the
offer, than he was with Krycek for making it.
Krycek held is hands up in a defensive gesture. "Okay, okay, if you
want to sleep with all your clothes on..."
"I do."
"Fine. The important thing is that you get some sleep. Close your
eyes."
Mulder stared up at him. Krycek held his hands out to his sides,
palms upturned and raised his eyebrows. Mulder emitted a heavy
sigh and closed his eyes. Krycek moved away from the bed and
slumped down in the room's only chair, about six feet away. He
watched quietly, as within the span of roughly ten minutes, Mulder
shifted position at least five times. He moved again, onto his right
side. Then seconds later...
"Krycek?"
"Hmm?"
"You remember when I said I was tired?"
"Yeah. Apparently you don't..."
"I didn't just mean that I was sleepy."
"What else did you mean? What else are you tired of?"
"Everything." His back remained to Krycek as he spoke. "All of it. I
feel like a rat in a maze, searching for that crumb of cheese at the
end and every time I get close, every time I'm about to get to it,
somebody changes the maze and I have to start all over. I
wouldn't... I wouldn't mind all the shit, you know? I wouldn't mind
so much if at the end, there was something I could hold on to.
Something tangible. Proof that it isn't all for nothing." Krycek rose
from the chair and came to sit at the edge of the bed. He laid a hand
on Mulder's shoulder and massaged lightly. Mulder continued in his
soft monotone. "Sometimes I think about just giving it all up.
Turning in my badge and moving to Idaho."
Soft laughter came from behind him. "Idaho?"
"Yup. Become a potato farmer."
"You know, that actually doesn't sound all that bad. Think there
might be room on the old homestead for an extra hand?"
"You like potatoes?"
"Well... they don't lie, they've got no hidden agendas and you don't
have to worry that they're all out to get you."
Mulder smiled sadly into his pillow. "Yeah."
"It's after twelve-thirty. Go to sleep."
Krycek reluctantly pulled his hand from the warmth of Mulder's
shoulder and went back to his chair. Several minutes later, Mulder's
sleepy voice reached his ears.
"Krycek?"
"Now what?"
"If I wake up dead tomorrow, I'm going to be really pissed."
An easy smile graced his partially swollen lips. He leaned his head
back against the chair. "Goodnight, Fox."
"Mulder."
Krycek's eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright.
"Jesus Christ," he grated. "You scared the shit out of me!"
Mulder sat on the floor, in front of the chair, intently observing the
man whom he was positive, until last night, had been his sworn
enemy.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
Krycek looked around. "What time is it?"
"After four."
"Have you been awake long?"
Mulder shrugged. "Few minutes, I guess."
Krycek's brow creased. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"I'm still alive."
"Yeah... imagine that."
"You kept your word."
"Mulder, go back to bed. You need a little more than four hours..."
Mulder ignored his words. "Have you moved out of this chair?"
"No."
"You're going to be stiff, sleeping like this."
"I've slept in much worse positions." A faint smile crossed his lips.
"You're worried about me?"
Mulder turned away from his warm stare. Krycek pitched forward
and cupped his cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed back and forth
across the light stubble. "Please look at me." Mulder did as he was
asked and met the rapidly growing heat of Krycek's stare. "Can we
stop this? I really would like to just stop it."
"Stop what?"
"This pretense. This... fucking game we're playing. You know,
normally I like a good game... especially when I'm playing against
an equal... like you. But this is no time for that. I want you... like
you wouldn't believe. And you want me. Now if you can't admit
that out loud, if you need help, I'll give it to you. I'll go get your
gun and hold it to your head." He snapped his fingers. "It was rape.
I forced you. You didn't want any part of it..." he stroked Mulder's
cheek. "no matter how many times you screamed my name... no
matter how hard you came. The guilt is all off you. Will that work
for you?"
Mulder's eyes glittered with anger. He slapped Krycek's hand
away. "Fuck you."
"Please do."
He saw Mulder's body tense and instinctively knew that another
bloody lip was coming his way. He decided to head it off. He
sprang from the chair and pushed Mulder to the floor. He held him
there, by bringing his full weight down upon his chest. Mulder
roared his fury.
"Get off me, you son of a bitch!"
"Not until you calm down."
"Get off!"
"You don't sound calm."
"I'll kill you, you asshole! I swear to Christ..."
The rest of his tirade was abruptly cut off as Krycek's lips covered
his. As much as he didn't want it to, his body immediately began to
respond. The vibration of his soft moan against Krycek's mouth,
drew an almost violent reaction from the younger man. His fingers
clutched in Mulder's thick golden brown hair and he forced his
tongue into the sweet warmth of his mouth. There was a brief
struggle before Mulder's body began to relax and submit to the
sensual assault. Slowly, his hands traveled up Krycek's back. They
stroked and massaged the taut muscles as his tongue twined around
the one invading his mouth.
Krycek let out a satisfied groan as he felt the ever hardening length
of Mulder's erection against his thigh. He pulled away just far
enough to mumble against his mouth. "I can give you what you
want." He licked that exquisite lower lip. "I can give you anything
you need. I'm the only one who can. Admit it... to yourself, at
least."
Mulder's eyes glazed over as he looked up at the man who wanted
so desperately to become his lover. His breaths came fast and
shallow and his body shook uncontrollably.
Krycek smoothed the hair back from his face. "Talk to me, Fox.
Tell me what you want."
Mulder closed his eyes. "It was you."
"What was me?"
"It was you I was thinking about. I can't get off anymore, unless
I do."
Krycek stroked his outer thigh and breathed into his ear. "I'm here
now, baby. Alex will take care of all your needs."
The tears that had been gathering in Mulder's eyes, spilled over and
ran down the sides of his face. Krycek lowered his head and licked
the dampness away. The taste of Mulder's tears on his tongue were
like nectar. He drew back a few inches and asked softly, "Why are
you crying?"
"Because," Mulder answered even softer, "I want you and I hate
myself for it."
"You hate yourself enough already. You don't need to find another
reason." Krycek's hand slipped between their hips and stroked
Mulder's raging erection through the loose suit pants. "I know how
you hate lies..." he squeezed the solid thickness under his hand.
"This is the truth. Don't deny it."
Mulder reached up and tentatively stroked the tips of his fingers
across Krycek's lips, pausing on the cut he'd given him just a few
hours before. His thumb stroked it slowly and he was rewarded
with a soft groan. Krycek allowed him a few more seconds of
exploration, before taking two fingers into his mouth.
What could only be described as an electrical surge, shot through
the middle of Mulder's body. "Jesus," he moaned through gritted
teeth. "Alex..."
Krycek sucked his fingers deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue
around them. Mulder's head rolled on the hardwood and his breath
came in ragged gasps.
Cool air replaced moist warmth as Krycek abruptly released
Mulder's fingers. "Let's get comfortable."
Mulder was in no condition to protest, as he was pulled to his feet
and led to the bed. Krycek pushed him down onto the mattress then
stepped back. His eyes stayed riveted on Mulder's as he unbuttoned
his shirt and removed it. He almost let it drop to the floor, then
thought better of it. He extended his arm and held the shirt out in
offering. Mulder hesitantly reached forward and took it from his
loose grip. He lay it carefully in his lap and absently stroked the
black cotton while turning his eyes back to admire the lean,
muscular torso of his soon-to-be lover.
Krycek's hand dropped to the waist of his jeans and undid the
button. The sound of the zipper as it worked it's way down the
track, echoed in Mulder's head. He closed his eyes against the
sound and reopened them when it had stopped. Krycek stood
motionless before him, waiting. Mulder drew a shaky breath and
nodded. The faded Levis and shoes came off.
It's on now, Mulder thought to himself, as his eyes tried to take
in everything he saw before him, at once. Krycek moved toward
him with feline grace. He reached for the hand that was still
caressing his shirt and placed it against his chest. His eyes glittered
in the near darkness of the room as he moved Mulder's hand up and
down. "Pet this."
Mulder's mouth went suddenly dry. His hand broke from Krycek's
control and wandered of it's own accord, across the span of his
chest. His fingertips lovingly brushed one hard nipple. Hearing the
quick intake of breath, fueled his courage. His other hand came up
to pay equal attention to the other nipple Krycek gritted his teeth
and endured the erotic torture, determined to let Mulder move at
his own pace.
Mulder's hands slipped downward, over the solid contours of his
abdomen. Slowly, he leaned in and touched his lips to the
overheated flesh. A clipped grunt escaped Krycek's throat. He
wanted so much to plunge his fingers into that silky golden brown
hair and force Mulder's mouth down over his aching cock, but he
fought the urge with every ounce of strength he could summon.
Mulder's hands moved to Krycek's waist as his mouth slipped
lower, licking and kissing the salty sweet skin. He froze, however,
as he felt the tip of his erection, bobbing against his chin. Krycek
held his breath and waited. Only disappointment followed.
"I can't, I..." Mulder squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his hands
to the bed. Gentle fingers tilted his chin up.
"Open your eyes, Fox."
Thick, honey brown lashes lifted half way. The back of Krycek's
hand stroked his face softly, again and again. "It's okay," he
whispered soothingly. "You don't have to."
Mulder tried to swallow against the dryness in his throat. "But..."
"But nothing. Let me take care of you." He reached down and
started to undo the buttons on Mulder's shirt . "Just relax
and... trust me." He pulled the shirt off and tossed it aside. "Lay
back." Mulder did as he instructed, then let Krycek remove his
pants and gray boxer-briefs. His eyes dilated to near blackness as he
viewed the long, muscular body, stretched out before him.
"Incredible," he murmured as he bent to capture a hard brown
nipple in his mouth. Mulder whimpered and his body began to
tremble.
"Are you cold?"
"A little."
Krycek retrieved the light blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled
it up over them, then gently settled his weight on top of Mulder. "Is
that better?"
"Better."
Stone brushed against stone as Krycek shifted his position.
"Ohhh, God..."
"Do you like that?" Krycek pushed against him.
"Jesus, yes."
"How about this?" He reached down between them taking both
cocks in his hand and began caressing them. Mulder arched his back
and cried out sharply. "Alex!"
"That's one..."
"Please... stop... stop... please!"
"Why?"
"I'm going to come any second now, and I don't..."
"You don't what?"
"Not so soon. Not... more... I want more."
Krycek smiled triumphantly. "How much more, baby?"
"I... I don't know."
"I want to give you everything." Krycek squeezed them together in
his hand. "Tell me your deepest, darkest desires." He slid his
tongue across Mulder's trembling lips. "I want to know all your
most intimate fantasies. "I'll fulfill them all... one by one." Mulder
sighed against his mouth. "Tell me, Fox."
"I want..." he stopped, then started again. "Just... show me. Make
me understand this."
"Okay. I understand, if that's all you can handle right now. There'll
be time enough for the rest."
Long, smooth fingers caressed the absurdly beautiful features of the
face that, for years now, had haunted dreams and occupied many a
waking thought. Lips, soft but insistent, kissed and teased, leaving
the beneficiary of their attention, writhing in agonizing bliss.
Slowly, painfully, Krycek worked his way downward, leaving a
path of tingling warmth in his wake. He heard the sharp intake of
breath come from somewhere above his head, as his cheek brushed
ever so lightly against Mulder's straining erection. He'd intended to
completely ignore it for a while—a little payback for the swollen lip,
but Mulder's reaction to his touches were driving him out of his
mind. He couldn't wait. He had to...
That first sweet touch of Krycek's tongue to the head of his cock,
drew a strangled moan from Mulder. His fingers clenched in the
sheets in an effort to keep them from pulling that lovely dark hair
out of it's owner's head.
Krycek continued to tease his former partner with quick, feathery
flicks of his tongue, until a drop of viscous fluid appeared and
started to dribble down the long shaft. Without warning, his mouth
engulfed the head, greedily sucking at it and removing all traces of
moisture.
Mulder arched upward, trying to thrust deeper. "Alex!"
Krycek released him and slid up his chest so that they were face to
face. His eyes sparkled. "That's two."
Mulder growled his frustration. "What the hell are you talking
about?"
Krycek smirked at him. "I'm counting the amount of times you
scream my name."
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Nope." He kissed Mulder deeply, letting him taste himself. When
he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily. "Do me a favor."
"What?"
Another kiss.
"Say it the way you do when you're alone."
Mulder opened his mouth to speak, then fell silent. Krycek stared
intently at him for a few seconds, then bestowed one last kiss on his
parted lips, before again moving south. Mulder winced as he nipped
at the soft skin on his stomach. Not that it hurt, really. He was just
so overstimulated, that the slightest touch was magnified ten times
over. Krycek lingered a while longer, then continued his journey
downward, this time completely ignoring that which was begging
for his attention. He moved from the inside of one strong thigh to
the other, first biting gently, then soothing. Mulder twisted and
moaned under his touch, then gasped aloud as Krycek took his
testicles into his open mouth, worshiping them with his tongue.
For so long, Alex Krycek spent nights fantasizing about this,
especially at those times when it looked like he would never see the
light of day again... and there were so many of those. His fantasies
were all he had at those times, and he'd often wished feverishly,
that he could have made just one of them a reality before he died.
Now, by some bizarre twist of fate, he was here... in the apartment
of the object of his fantasies, doing things that he was sure he'd
only ever dream about. Life had never been this kind to him.
Mulder's head spun. He was at the very edge of a precipice,
ready... willing to fall. No thoughts, other than those of intense
hunger and need, could pass through the fog that surrounded him.
It hurt. He knew that, too. And if the pain wasn't relieved soon, he
didn't know that he could survive it. As if his thoughts had been
read, he felt the wet heat of his lover's mouth, enveloping his rigid
cock, taking in half of it's length, only to withdraw and then slide
back over it.
"Alex..."
That was it. That rough, throaty whisper. That was the way he'd
imagined Mulder had said his name while masturbating alone,
on those dark, lonely nights. The vibration from his satisfied groan,
only served to excite Mulder further. Instinctively, he began to
move his hips, thrusting in and out of Krycek's mouth. Krycek
began to thrust as well, rubbing himself against the cotton covered
mattress.
No. Stop. You don't have to come into a sheet... not tonight.
Tonight, you've got the man you've wanted for so long.
He stopped his movements but encouraged Mulder to continue his.
He grasped the lean hips and pulled them forward, bringing him
fully into his mouth. He could feel the head pushing against the
back of his throat. He relaxed the muscles and encouraged Mulder
to push deeper. His eyes traveled upward to see his lover's face.
Beautiful. He would have been willing to bet that Mulder had never
felt anything this good before. He sure as hell knew that he
hadn't. He began to move his head in perfect cadence with the
other's hips. The pace quickened and he knew from Mulder's
increasingly anguished cries, that he was almost there. He took a
deep breath through his nose and prepared himself. Mulder gave
one last vicious thrust and emitted a long, sobbing groan as he
emptied himself into Krycek's mouth. The sudden rush of bitter
fluid gagged the man, but he refused to let go until he'd drained him
of every drop.
When it was completely over, he discreetly cleaned the residual
semen from his mouth and chin, then slid up and wrapped an arm
around Mulder's still heaving chest. He studied his flushed face
with loving interest. The hazel eyes were still closed, those full,
luscious lips were parted and gasping for breath. How he ached to
feel those lips around his own still throbbing erection.
He's exhausted. Give him some time.
Krycek lay quietly, stroking the moderate sprinkling of golden hairs
that covered Mulder's chest, while he recovered. A few minutes
went by, and his eyes fluttered open.
"Finally," he smiled. "I was beginning to think that I'd killed you."
Mulder's eyes scanned the ceiling. He seemed a bit dazed. Then
Krycek's heart sank as a different look replaced the confusion.
"Oh my God," Mulder whispered. "Oh, God."
"What is it?" He wondered if Mulder could hear the rising panic in
his voice. "What's wrong?"
Mulder lay silent, trying to take it all in. The realization of it hit like
thunder, a few seconds later. Unable to meet Krycek's eye, he
quickly slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.
Krycek got up and followed. He didn't open the door though, only
leaned his head against it and listened, broken hearted, to the sound
of Mulder, vomiting.
When he was done, Mulder stood weakly and looked toward the
door. Jesus. He should go back and face this. Unfortunately,
what he should do and what he was ableto do, were two
different things. He lowered the toilet lid and sat heavily.
How the hell did this happen? Are you out of your fucking mind?
How could you let a man... hell, not just any man... Krycek... do
that to you?
He once again looked toward the door and wondered how long
Krycek would wait out there, before coming in. He reached out and
quickly locked the door, then jumped up and turned the shower on,
full hot. He got in and gritted his teeth as the steaming water
pounded his skin. For fifteen minutes, he scrubbed, trying to
remove Krycek's smell... the feel of his hands and mouth. Finally, he
turned the water off and dried himself. He grabbed his robe from
the hook on the back of the door and threw it on, belting it tightly.
He walked to the sink and picked up his toothbrush. He squeezed a
glob of Crest onto the bristles and brushed his teeth till they
squeaked.
Okay, now what? He looked into the mirror. You've done
everything you could possibly do in here. He turned away from his
reflection, unable to face himself. Christ, if you can't look at
yourself, how the hell are you going to look at him? He leaned
against the sink and stood that way for a long while, trying to
convince himself to open the door. Finally, he did.
Silence greeted him as he walked slowly into the bedroom, eyes
cast downward. What the hell to say? Maybe he should just remain
quiet and let Alex... Krycek... talk first. He leaned back against the
wall, staring at a worn spot on the hardwood floor. Still, all was
quiet. Finally, he risked a glance at the bed. It was empty. He
scanned the room and found no one there. Then he noticed that
Krycek's clothes were gone. He pushed himself away from the wall
and stepped into the living room, where he was met with more
emptiness. A small square of paper was tacked to the door. He
pulled it off and stared down at it, not knowing how to feel about
the two word message. He walked over to the sofa and lowered
himself onto it. He looked back at the paper in his hand, and read
aloud.
"Forgive me."
Alex Krycek stood, protected from view by two large trees, looking
up at the window of apartment number forty-two. The heavy
morning mist gave way to a cold rain. Perfect.
He hadn't wanted to leave, but fear of Mulder's complete rejection
prompted his departure. He couldn't handle that. Not after... he
gave himself a mental shake. How could you be so stupid? So
fucking weak? Was a night with him really worth risking your life?
His eyes closed involuntarily, as he remembered what had happened
between them, just a couple of short hours ago. There was only one
answer to his question. He opened his eyes and turned to lean back
against one of the trees. At least the next time your ass is in a
sling, and death is inevitable, you'll have this to reflect on.
Well... maybe not all of it.
He glanced carefully around the quiet neighborhood, then flipped
the collar of his jacket up, and walked away.
Admission
by Aries
Sleepless hours and dreamless nights and far aways
Heaven knows and lord it shows when I'm awake
Wishing you were here
Even though you're far away, you're on my mind
Wishing you were here
Just to be with you tonight, baby, if I could
But I've got my job to do, and I do it well,
So I guess that's how it is..
Wishing you were here
Pay the price, make a sacrifice, and still I'll try
Wishing you were here
Wishing you were here
—Wishing You Were Here, Chicago
Saturday, 4:25 a.m.
7:05 a.m.
