When he appeared in my living room, I was too tired even to grab my gun. I
guess I was hoping
he would turn out to be a hallucination. After all, my short "vacation" in a
mental hospital
hadn't been that long ago and I still wasn't certain I was actually well enough
to be let out.
Not that I would admit it to Scully or anyone else. Then again, if I started to
imagine Krycek
of all people, that probably meant I should go and commit myself before it
was too late.
"What, you're not even going to try and shoot me?" he asked with that ironic
smirk of his,
causing a sudden wave of relief wash over me. I wasn't crazy—it really was
Krycek
in front of me, not just a product of my poor, overheated brain.
"I would," I answered automatically "but I'm too tired to deal with the police
now. Could you
be so kind as to come back in the morning, so that I can welcome you
properly?"
"Yes, I know that you must be exhausted." he said with an unexpected sorrow
in his eyes.
"That's why I'm here actually. I believe you could use a bubble bath and a
massage..."
"Excuse me?!" I spluttered, suddenly remembering that I was supposed to
hate the man in the
first place.
"Oh come on. The fact that I've lost an arm doesn't mean that I'm incapable
of giving you
a great massage." Krycek even had the guts to sound hurt.
"Please tell me you're real and that it is you that's nuts and not me." I
pleaded, way to
tired to keep up my rage for long.
"Jesus, Mulder, this commital has really got to you, hasn't it." Krycek
sounded
concerned. "Don't worry though. I am really here. You see, I have decided to
help you
because you are very important to me and my cause."
"Since when have you had a cause?" I snorted, deciding to leave the remaining
hundred of
questions that had suddenly started to nag at me for later.
"Since I woke up in a secluded silo with an alien life form pouring out of my
eyes, nose and
mouth." he answered with dignity. "Look Mulder, I'm not in the mood to
discuss my reasons
with you right now, so shut up and let me take care of you." he added, with a
peculiar mixture
of tenderness and annoyance in his voice. Then he disappeared into my
bathroom together with
his duffel bag and soon I could hear the sound of water filling my bathtub.
I stared after him speechless until a wave of well-known rage overcame my
confusion. When did
the smug bastard take control of the situation? Why did I let him do that,
again? Well, I
definitely wasn't going to fall for whatever game he was playing with me now.
He wasn't
leaving this apartament without providing me with some satisfying answers,
just for a change.
When he came out again, I was ready for him. I took him by surprise and
managed to pin him
to the wall, pushing my gun hard against his left temple.
"What the fuck do you want, Krycek?" I hissed at him, letting him know that
my patience had
finally run out.
"I told you I want to help you." he answered calmly, looking me straight in the
eye.
"And that's your idea of helping me?" I snorted incredulously.
"Not only that. But you're going to deny all the times I've helped you in a more
subtle way, so
I don't have much choice."
"Oh, and what times would those be?" I enquired sarcastically.
"Have you ever wondered where the vaccine that you gave Scully had come
from? Or how come
Skinner agreed to sign you out of the mental hospital? Or how the X-files
have come back
to you?"
"Have you just admitted you shot an FBI agent?" I interrupted harshly,
fighting with
the sudden urge to kiss this wonderful man who had freed me from the
horrible Jeffy Spender.
Krycek rolled his eyes and sighed heavily: "You're such an asshole Mulder.
Have I mentioned
shooting anyone?"
"No, you haven't." I agreed and stepped away from him, suddenly
disheartened. "Get the hell
out of here before I change my mind and decide to kill you after all."
"No, I won't. Stop being difficult and get in the bath." Krycek said tiredly.
"How do I know you haven't put acid into it?" I eyed him suspiciously, no longer
able to deny
that the prospect of a hot bubble bath seemed very tempting indeed.
"Oh for Christ's sake!" Krycek exclaimed lifting his arm in desperation. "I give
up! Go and
torment someone else; I've had enough!"
"Alright, alright! You don't have to be this touchy." I grumbled entering the
bathroom. The
bathtub, filled with white bubbles and smelling of sandalwood, was a truly
heavenly picture
for my fatigued eyes. Not giving myself time to have second thoughts, I
closed the door,
took off my clothes and sank into the tub.
I still didn't know what it was all about, or why Krycek was so desperate to
help me.
However, in the dazed state I was in at the moment, I didn't feel able to
analyze the man.
I could always do that the next day. For now, taking whatever advantage I
could of the
situation seemed like an extremely wise idea.
I guess I must have dozed off because the next thing I registered was Krycek
knocking on
the door and asking if I was OK.
"Krycek, what the hell are you still doing here!?" I shouted but my heart
wasn't in it. The
hot water enveloping my body and the delicate aroma of the scented oil
Krycek must have
put into the water had sucked all the strenght from me.
"What, you don't remember?" Krycek sounded surprised. "I told you that I
was going to give
you a massage after the bath. With that eidetic memory of yours you can't
have forgotten."
"You're crazy." I announced before I could stop myself, and then flinched
waiting for him
to comment on my own mental state.
But Krycek just said gently: "Get out of the tub before the water gets cold."
and went away.
I sat for a moment in stunned silence, trying to process what the hell had
just happened.
I had given him my head on a plate and he hadn't used it; Alex Krycek, the rat
bastard,
the guy who had killed my father and who ... had prepared me a bubble bath
and was now
offering to give me a massage. Damn, I could feel a massive headache
coming.
I jumped out of the water, which by this time had become unpleasantly cool,
and towelled
myself dry. Then I fastened the towel around my waist, took a deep breath
and went out to
face the rest of this gentle nightmare.
There was no trace of Krycek in my living room but I managed to find him in
my bedroom, or
at least in the room that used to be my bedroom but now was somehow ...
changed.
The main difference that I could pin down was that my bed was actually
visible, standing
proudly in the middle of the room, covered with a white silk sheet.
The second thing was the light. Instead of the flat, artificial illumination
provided by
the main lamp, the bedroom was filled with the golden, flickering glow of
dozens of candles,
placed all around the bed.
And last, but certainly not least, was Alex Krycek, standing in the middle of
it all, in
black jeans and a tight, long-sleeved T-shirt, and laying out a collection of
scented massage
oils on a silver tray. At my muffled gasp he looked up at me and smiled like a
kid on
Christmas morning.
"You like it?" he asked innocently. "I wasn't sure what smell you'd prefer, so I
brought them
all." he explained pointing at the tray.
My knees felt as if they were going to give, so I came to the bed and sat on it
heavily,
all the time desperately trying to find some argument I could throw in his
face to make him
go away together with his seductiveness. Because I was being seduced, of
that I had no doubt.
"So? Which scent?" the question practically whispered in my ear startled me
and made my
thoughts scatter, completely burying my chance of getting out of this. As
the hot breath
tickled my neck, I felt the last of my defences crumble and turn into dust.
Defeated, I lay down and said with resignation: "I don't care, just get this over
with
and leave me alone."
Krycek laughed—a low, sexy sound that made me thrill with anticipation—and
commented
huskily: "You know, you said that as if I was here to kill you and not to make
you feel
better."
"Are you? Here to kill me, I mean?" I asked out of habit, but Krycek didn't
dignify my remark
with an answer. Instead he set to work.
He squeezed a fair amount of what smelled like cinnamon oil into the hollow
along my spine
and started to gently rub my back, relaxing the knotted muscles and
comforting my aching
flesh. Then he proceeded to massage my legs, first my feet, then calves,
thighs and finally
his hand sneaked under the towel to knead my buttocks.
Reveling in the sensual pleasure of the massage, I didn't even notice when
Krycek lost
the towel altogether and began to openly stroke my naked butt. I just let the
delightful
sensation caused by his expert touches seep through my seemingly boneless
body until it
was no longer comfortable for me to lay on my stomach. Then I started to
worry.
Eventually Krycek slapped my ass teasingly and told me to turn over.
Although I successfully concealed the needy moan that tried to escape me as
the mild sting
filled my cock with even more heat, there was no way I could hide my arousal
if I did what he
was asking. My dick was throbbing and trying to dig its way through the
mattress, as if the
whole tension from my body had flown into it instead of disappearing, and I
had no illusions that
it wouldn't glue itself to my stomach as soon as it gained enough room to do
this. What's more,
I couldn't trust my reaction at the sight of Krycek in his ridiculously thin T
shirt. He was
beautiful in this dangerous way that made you want to touch him, even
though you had never
suspected yourself of being interested in the same gender. All in all, the last
thing I wanted
at the moment was to turn over, no matter how painful my current position
was.
"Hey, turn over, don't be shy." Krycek insisted, making me realise that I
needed to think of
a way out of this NOW if I wanted to keep my honour intact.
"This doesn't change the fact that I hate you for killing my father." I stated
harshly, hoping
to offend him strongly enough to make him go away. "You can't expect to be
redeemed by giving
me a massage."
"I know that." Krycek answered seriously.
There was something in his voice, some sadness and honesty, that made me
want to see his face
desperately. I cursed my unfortunate position and tried again: "I mean it
Krycek. I won't
hesitate to kill you the next time I see you. You're the same scum sucking rat
bastard to
me as you've always been."
"I understand." Krycek said quietly, ignoring the venom dripping from my
words with meekness
I couldn't fathom. Alex Krycek in the submissive mode was something I had
never even suspected
existed. I wondered how far he would go in this game he was apparently
playing with me. He
had let me beat the shit out of him during our earlier encounters but this
was something new,
something more.
Tired of my fruitless pondering, I decided to check his limits and without
further delay I
turned over to reveal my unambiguous state.
If my arousal surprised him, he didn't let it show. However, he didn't react
with a smug
grin and a smart-ass comment either. If anything, he looked ... concerned.
"Do you want me to take care of it?" Krycek finally asked, pointing at my
crotch.
Even though I'd expected this sort of reaction, I was still stunned when I
heard the actual
words. As soon as I managed to get a grip of myself again, I sneered at him:
"I should
have known that whoring yourself isn't below you, Krycek."
He didn't answer, just kept looking at me, accepting the insult without
protest—like he had
done with the previous ones.
"What's your goal?" I was wondering until I noticed that he was still waiting
for me to
answer. And just then I realised what a beautiful trap I had managed to
prepare for myself.
I had a pliant Krycek before me, offering to take care of my persistent hard
on and not
allowing himself to be discouraged by my cheap insults. My only options were
to either chicken
out and let him win, or to sink myself even further in the surreal situation
with the
offensive attitude I had so carelessly adopted.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and called his bluff: "Well OK, show me
just how much
of a cock-sucking scum you are."
He was on me in an instant. The echo of my words was still lingering in the air
when his
hot mouth surrounded my aching flesh.
I was lost. All possible words of protest were drowned in the loud moan that
escaped me as
my cock unexpectedly entered Heaven. I arched off the bed, totally unable to
stop my shameless
cries of ecstasy while his talented lips worked their magic on my most
sensitive organ.
It was way too long since I'd received a decent blowjob, and he was... Let's
just say that
Krycek knew what he was doing.
His tongue was swirling around the head of my cock in maddening circles,
sending jolts of
electric pleasure up and down my spine. My skin was burning while my feet
went cold, only
to be filled with dizzyingly sweet tingling. And he hadn't even swallowed me
yet.
I looked down at him and gasped at the unbelievably erotic sight of his
luscious lips
stretched around my erection. Then my eyes locked with his, the burning pair
of emeralds
observing and possessing me, exploiting the distraction his silky mouth
caused to the
maximum.
When Krycek noticed I was looking at him, he lowered his eyes with deliberate
slowness,
moved forward changing the angle and worked his lips down my shaft until I
was buried
in the wet heat to the hilt.
I bucked and threw my head back against the pillow as a wordless cry of
passion broke from
my constricted throat. For a moment I felt the panic seize me because my
body didn't seem
to remember how to breathe, but the adrenaline rush caused by the
temporary lack of oxygen
only intensified my pleasure.
I wanted to cup the dark head moving rhythmically between my legs but my
fists were twisted
into the sheet too tightly to be removed. All I could do was strenghten my
grip even further
and hold on for dear life.
I can't tell which stimuli was the strongest: the way his tongue rubbed the
underside of my
cock whenever he moved, the way his throat muscles massaged the head of
my dick, or the way
his impossibly long eyelashes tickled my belly when his lips engulfed my cock
completely. I
guess it must have been the joined actions of all these factors that finally
sent me
flying over the edge.
The orgasm hit me like a lightning, tearing up my body and stealing a part of
my soul, which
Krycek immediately absorbed, purring with content.
"You're the Devil." I gasped when the gift of speech was returned to me, my
nerve endings
still tingling with the intense pleasure that had filled them up just moments
earlier.
Krycek just smiled mysteriously and said nothing, letting my stupefied brain
weave the wildest
theories.
Although he didn't exactly disappear in a cloud of smoke, it was close enough
since I was
watching him pack his toys and leave with my eyes still fogged in the post
coital satiety.
And the only trace of his presence I had was the white, silk sheet on which I
was lying
and which was completely ruined by the greasy stains of the massage oil.
I wasn't sure what the hell had just happened, or whether he would come
back. Strangely enough,
I didn't even care. I just let the reality slip away from me and fell asleep.
Possession
by Czeri
"(...) Wash me down in Pepsi,
Sweet obsess possess me.
What love, what hate
Could reach the point of no return?
What love, what hate
Could reach that point?"
—NENEH CHERRY
The first time he came to me, I was really beat after a long and extremely
unpleasant
case. I remember that, when I returned home that night, my greatest dream
was to fall on
the couch and not to get up until Judgment Day. But Krycek, of course, had
to spoil this
sophisticated plan.
