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Chemistry

Book 1: Desired
by Louise Wu


Chapter 1

12 April 1998

Krycek

I was watching his apartment—for no reason other than my own lust. I kept remembering that chaste kiss on his cheek and I wanted more. I wasn't socially backward enough to think stalking him was the right way to get laid. It's just that with all the history between us I didn't know what else to do.

I couldn't stop myself from wanting him. I'd wanted him from the very beginning—his lean figure in those too perfect suits. The intensity of his color-shifting eyes made my knees weak. I used to stand next to him, watching those long, strong fingers on his keyboard and struggle to stop imagining them on my own input devices. His body caught my attention, but his mind and his tortured soul just did me in. I sought his witty put-downs like caresses. I craved him like I'd never desired anyone. If he bashed my intestines or slammed me against the wall I still wanted his touch more than I'd ever wanted anything.

I'd been telling myself for years that it was a hopeless attraction. Mulder was a man of honor; I was a criminal. I had betrayed him. And, well, he didn't seem to like me very much. He hit me often and hard. He called me bad names and made snide remarks about my character and even my hair. Oh, and there was the minor detail of his apparent heterosexuality.

I tried desperately to find data in my favor. He was kind to me after I'd killed Cole—concerned about what he believed was my first killing. Surely that must mean he wanted me. There was definitely something happening in those Speedos when he got out of the Hoover pool. He didn't struggle when I kissed his cheek and didn't shoot me when I returned his gun. Mulder was the one who joked about me beating myself with one hand. Had he been fantasizing about my cock? But my best card to play was the Hong Kong airport. I thought I was a sick fuck for getting hard while he beat me, until I felt his erection against my leg.

With all that, I still couldn't convince myself there was more than a hint of real hope, but my lust was in overdrive. I wanted the lanky G-man. Surely there was a chance that he just might want me too.

My life was falling apart. Through some miracle, I hadn't been killed yet, but I knew it was coming. I didn't want to die. And if I had to die, I wanted to take something good from this crappy little life first.

So I was sitting in the passenger seat of my old BMW, staking out his apartment. It wasn't a useful way to come on to someone, but it was a big night on the town for me and my hard-on. It was the third time I'd been parked on Hegal Place in the last month.

I'd imagine ways of approaching him. I'd be cool and sexy as I knocked on his door. He'd open it. Without sticking a gun in my face. Okay, so I'm dreaming. 'Hi, can I come in?' But my sex appeal would dissolve as soon as I imagined his response, because—face it—the man hated me. I'd comb my hair, stand up straight, show my best side and give him a smoldering look, but I was still Alex Krycek.

I'd get lost in these infinite loops of my fantasies for hours. In my head, I'd see myself stroking the side of his face, 'Can I come in?' If I was horny enough, he'd let me in. Inside I'd pull him into a deep kiss, tasting those lips that I'd imagined touching so many times. I'd start to tear his shirt off, running my hand down his lean chest, feeling his skin under my fingers. Then reality would poke its ugly head. 'He hates you, you fool!' My frustration would dampen my erection and I'd be stuck with ugly black thoughts again. Even if he did enjoy sex with men, I'm the last man on the fucking planet he'd fucking want.

I couldn't take my hand off my cock. Sitting in the car like that, I had to keep it in my pants, but I'd press into it through my jeans and imagine him teasing me. 'Isn't that how you beat yourself?'

That night I acted on some impulse that I would later call intuition if it paid off or madness, if it didn't.

I was watching his neighbors and their guests come and go. It was about 9:30 and fewer were passing by. A car parked in front of me and a pizza delivery boy got out. I could smell pepperoni through the crack in my window. I was suddenly hungry.

I hopped out of the car. "Is that for #42?"

"Yeah."

"That's just where I'm going. How much?"

Pizza boy was cautious. "How do I...?"

"Mulder, right?" I handed him two twenties and took the pizza.

Now, of course, I needed someplace to eat it. And someone to eat it with.

Outside #42 I rang the bell and mumbled the name of the pizza company printed on the box. I was hoping he wouldn't look through the peephole.

He looked. I heard a muffled "What the fuck?" from the other side of the door.

Mulder opened the door a few inches and stuck out a gun. "Get a promotion, Krycek? Or did you poison the pizza?" The annoyed tone in his voice went straight to my crotch.

Sexy flew right out the window as I tried to figure out what to say to him.

"What do you want, Krycek?"

What the fuck was I doing? "Dinner."

"Is that my pizza?"

"Yeah. I figured you wouldn't mind sharing."

Eyes that looked olive in the dim light of the hall met mine and he seemed to be thinking. I considered my best 'trust me' or 'fuck me' gestures but couldn't manage any of them while holding a pizza. So I just stared at him and licked my lips.

He softened a little. I wondered if he knew what I was really hungry for.

Mulder opened the door, cautiously. "If you pull any surprises, I'll blow your brains out."

He let me in and he locked the door behind me. That made me chuckle—like there was anything worse out there than me who he'd just let in. I smiled and walked carefully to his dining table. It was one of those basic, cheap apartment tables leaned against the wall, buried in today's newspaper, with a crusty toaster for a centerpiece. I set the pizza down and pulled up a chair.

He came toward me, keeping the gun pointed in my general direction. A man in my profession has to know when a gun-holder means to use it or not. I thought he was holding it like a security blanket, but without intention to fire it.

"Napkins?"

He made a feeble gesture with the gun toward the kitchen.

Mulder had the same half dazed, half resigned expression on his face that he'd had at our last meeting. And I hadn't even knocked him on his ass this time. At least not literally. It dawned on me that the master profiler couldn't figure me out. That boosted my confidence. I scored a kiss last time. I just had to take this to the next level.

The pizza was pepperoni and onions. Yum. But not nearly as appetizing as the man seated next to me. His hair was in need of a trim and a strand threatened to tickle one glaring eye. I attempted to sublimate my desire with pizza as I watched him eat.

He held onto the gun, but it was no longer in a firing position. He consumed a slice of pizza one handed in about three bites. I recalled eating like that right after I lost my arm. I didn't want to spend a lot of time flailing with awkward food, so I ate fast. With pizza the trick is to get control of the tip, before it flops down and leaves pepperoni on your pants. I wondered stupidly if Mulder would still find me attractive with one arm. Still? What was I thinking?

Then I realized that this experience—whatever it would become—had nothing to do with thinking. It was pure chemistry. Pheromones just flew out of his armpits into my nose, tweaking the 'I want it' section of my brain and cranking up my dick. My only question was what were my pheromones doing in Mulder's overactive brain? Triggering something besides the 'I want to hit it' response, I hoped.

Mulder seemed committed to a path of silence, which annoyed me. I wanted to hear his smooth voice, even if it was only to insult me. I tried to come up with some conversation openers, but couldn't think of anything between the extremes of 'Seen any good monsters lately?' and 'Would you like to have sex?'

He just ate. I examined his face for clues to his feelings. I didn't get much. If anything, he seemed almost depressed. Didn't seem to be trying to think up conversation starters himself. Soon he'd mastered one-handed pizza consumption and was curling it just like I did. I guess that meant I wasn't going to be eating fallen pepperoni out of his lap.

After a while the silence was starting to do something to me. Just me looking at him and him looking at me was starting to feel intimate. Simply eating pizza with this handsome man was erotic. He popped the last bite of his second slice into his gorgeous mouth. I wanted to be that piece of pizza. Then he licked his fingertips and I stopped breathing.

I realized that I was no longer being subtle about my intentions and examined his face to try to understand his reaction. He seemed unaware, almost relaxed with me. I had the distinct feeling that even Mulder didn't know what was going on in his brilliant mind at that moment.

Before he became more alert and I lost my nerve, I quickly leaned over and kissed him on the lips. When he didn't shoot me, I kept going. My tongue entered his mouth. I brought up my arm and put my hand behind his neck, pulling his lips into mine. His tongue began to respond to my ministrations. It was only then that he seemed to realize we were kissing.

"Shit." He yanked himself away. "Krycek, what the fuck are you doing?"

I'd tasted him. I wanted more and I wanted it bad. "Something I've wanted to do for a long time."

He grabbed his gun like it was a lucky rabbit's foot. "Get away from me, you pervert." In spite of his angry words, he sounded more sheepish than pissed off. I knew if he was really mad he'd hit me or shoot me or call me something worse than pervert.

"I believe you were responding to that kiss, Mulder."

We both looked at his crotch at the same moment. He was hard. All the blood in my body seemed to heat up with the realization that I'd given the man an erection.

His face flushed. He bolted from the table into the living room. Leaving my leather jacket on the chair, I followed.

"Get out of here, Krycek." He looked at me, desperation in those dark eyes. Then he looked at the door hopefully.

I stood up and went to him, standing too close like I always did with Mulder. "I'll leave as soon as you convince me that that's what you really want."

He rolled his eyes. "I want you to leave. Now."

"You don't lie as well as I do, Mulder." I wrapped my arm around him and kissed him again. He responded instantly. Oh, god. Could it be true that Mulder wanted me?

Okay, maybe he didn't really want me, but whatever this was I was taking it while I had the chance. Pressing my body against his I could feel his erection and I knew he could feel mine. I nibbled furiously on his plump lower lip.

When I pulled away from his face for a breath, I heard him mutter softly, "Damn you." To me, at that moment, those words were the sweet soft words of a lover.

Testosterone pumping in my veins, I kissed him again pushing deeper into his hot mouth. His tongue relaxed and he just gave it up to me. My hand came up his back and invaded his soft hair. I petted him for a moment then wandered down the side of his face feeling his five o'clock shadow sanding my fingertips. I got to his neck and started unbuttoning his shirt. I had to touch his chest.

My temperature was rising. I broke from his mouth to breathe. I kissed the side of his face. I rubbed against it with my similarly scratchy cheek. I'd worked free two buttons of his shirt and pulled back to concentrate on the others. He looked down at me like a man who'd just lost his dog. Something precious had died and he was helpless to do anything about it. His despair pained me, but my dick was heartless.

This was so, so much better than letting him beat me. I got all the visible buttons free and yanked up hard on the shirt. Sometimes brute force is the best strategy. Two more buttons. Shit. I reached in to feel his chest, needing some pleasure before I continued disrobing the man. Mulder's chest was smooth, firm, masculine. He squirmed against my touch. Oh, yeah. I loved the silky feel of his hot flesh. I returned to the damned buttons. I still couldn't do anything useful with my prosthetic arm, so I hadn't worn it. I was glad. I didn't want him to see the crude and ugly thing.

When I'd freed the last buttons, I pulled the shirt off one shoulder and ran my hand down his spine. I could feel fine hairs along his lower back. I imagined his ass and needed to see it. And touch it. I tucked my fingers into his pants, but his belt was too tight to reach very far. I pulled my hand away in frustration and tossed the other side of his shirt off his shoulder.

Mulder pulled his hands away from his body and allowed the shirt to fall to the floor. When he reached for his belt buckle, I knew he wasn't going to stop this incredible thing that was happening between us. He slipped off the belt and I fumbled with the button on his pants. Then, releasing his fly, I ran my hand down the front of his briefs. His cock felt good—hard and throbbing. I needed to see it. I loosened the front of his pants and looked up at him. His eyes were closed. For a moment I was hurt. I hoped he wasn't imagining that I was someone else.

I reached behind him and pulled down his pants and shorts in one jerk. I took a step backward to admire him. My eyes scoured every visible inch of his swimmer's body. He opened his eyes and gave me a look that was part hurt, part desire. I knew I'd hurt him. I'd made him admit that he wanted his enemy. I was awed by his capitulation.

My eyes traveled lower to his cock. Beautiful. Long and lean. Watching his erection grow, I realized that he was getting turned on by me looking at him. My emotions were out of control. I could get seriously attached to a man who finds my very gaze erotic.

I wanted to throw him on the floor and fuck his brains out, but I didn't want to scare him away either. I had no idea what he was willing to do or the extent of his experience with men. His mostly passive state so far made me cautious. I had to assume a lack of experience. Hell, the way he went after his work, he was probably inexperienced with women, too.

I stepped toward him, reaching for an embrace.

"Take off your shirt," he muttered and reached for my collar. He had two buttons done before my hand got there to help. We pulled it off my body and I closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to see him look at me in pity. When I opened my eyes he was looking at the stump of my arm, not in pity, more like fascination. He touched it gently for a moment. I suppressed some scary feeling that made my eyes water. I pressed forward to feel his chest against mine and conceal my face over his shoulder. Fuck!

He was slightly sweaty or was that me? I felt his arms crush around me and his hot breath on the back of my neck. I bit his ear lobe and he groaned.

We stumbled together around his legs, which were captured in his pants, but he managed to right us. "Get these things off me," he growled.

I dropped to my knees and helped him lower his butt to the floor. Together we tore off his shoes, socks and pants as rapidly as possible. He scooted a little to rest his back against the sofa. I sat on my heels next to him. I kissed his face and worked my way down to his nipples. I ran the rough side of my cheek across his tender nips and was rewarded with a delicious moan.

"Up on the couch," I told him.

He raised his sweet ass onto the leather sofa. I followed him on my knees, opening his legs and inserting myself between them. I teased the soft skin of his belly with my lips and face. His hands gripped my head and lifted my face, brushing his lips against mine. I could feel my hard-on strain against my jeans.

"Take me in your mouth," he whispered.

I needed something from him first. "Say my name." I needed him to acknowledge who he wanted to blow him.

His breathing became shallow and his voice dropped. "Suck me... Alex." The way he said my name was like his hand on my cock. I wanted him so badly that I wasn't sure I could wait for him to get off first.

My hand went to my own crotch and I took out my cock. I looked up at him and he almost snarled, thinking I was going to make him wait. I stroked myself hard and fast just a couple of times, then moved my hand to his thigh. "Slide forward a little," I whispered and he obeyed immediately. I cupped my hand under his balls and squeezed them gently a couple of times.

"Oh, please." His voice was weak.

I couldn't wait any longer either. Reaching out with my tongue, I licked the tip of his straining erection. I enjoyed the bland taste and the feel of the softest skin on his body. I tongued around the head of his cock, teasing the rim with my lips. Then I took a breath and took the head into my mouth. He immediately began trying to thrust into me, but I held him back with my hand at the base of his cock, pressing into his balls a little to send a message. This was my show.

He emitted an almost girlie sort of whimper. I released his cock for a moment and responded with a hoarse laugh of lustful joy. I was doing this man and he was loving it.

Just as he was about to complain, I wrapped my mouth around him again. One quick lap around the head and I took him into my throat. He slammed himself forward and my hand pushed on his nuts again and not as gently, to let him know who was in control. He backed off and let me make the motions. I deep throated him, then pulled away to just the head and did it again. I knew he was already close to coming. I took him in and out, listening to his raspy groans and struggling breaths. My hand wandered downward and found my own cock. I stroked myself to the same rhythm I was sucking him with. I lost a little finesse as he began to thrust into me, but I was too turned on to care anymore.

I decided that he had to come first or I wouldn't be able to control my mouth. Kill his father and be forgiven, maybe in my dreams. Bite his dick off, no way. I tightened my lips so they were putting more pressure on the shaft of his cock. His hands found the back of my head. He tried to verbalize something that I interpreted as 'yes' and then began to climax. He squeezed my head with his hands and shot into my mouth.

I swallowed, remembering just whose come I was swallowing and that put me over the edge. I let his cock fall out of my mouth, resting my head on his thigh and let go into my own orgasm.

A fleeting moment of blissful recovery and then my brain began to work again. At first it was 'I just had sex with Fox Mulder.' I was deliriously happy at having nailed my favorite G-man. Then I remembered that he didn't like me. I got a knot of anxiety in my intestines. What am I going to say to him? After sex chat was never my strong point. Actually, chat of any kind was a stretch.

I was afraid to look at him. I didn't want him to still hate me. I had to look, though. He was lost in thought, but saw my gaze. "I'm not going to thank you for that. I think my life would have been better without it." He was putting on a show of being angry, but he wasn't. He seemed sad.

He looked away, uncomfortable. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't.

I stood and pulled my pants up. Avoiding the detritus of his clothing spread out on the carpet, I walked over to where my shirt lay and retrieved it. I put it on slowly. I found my jacket in the kitchen. As I stepped out of his apartment and probably out of his life, I repeated the same words I'd spoken at our last meeting. Waiting for the elevator I thought about what I'd said. Tovarisch. Friend. I wish.

Mulder

I was so fucking relieved when he left. Oh, god. What had I done?

I tried to pretend that it wasn't the best sex of my life. He took advantage of me during a weak moment. But all I could think about was his hot wet mouth sealed onto my cock. God, that man knew how to give a blowjob. Do they teach that in traitor school?

I tried to tell myself that I wasn't really attracted to him. But it was hard to forget the sight of his beautiful green eyes. Even while we were eating the pizza, he was just looking at me, but oh the way he looked at me. Raw sex. It made me want him. So maybe I was just a little bit attracted to him. I'd practically begged him to suck my cock.

It was just sex. I'd felt no tenderness toward him. Right? But apparently I had. When I saw his arm I hurt for him. And I'd wanted to kiss him before he left, but I wouldn't let myself do it.

Well, it didn't mean anything. After all, he just did me, right? I never touched his cock. But I wanted to. I was just afraid of what it might mean or where it might go.

At least I'm not gay. 'He looked like a man, Mulder. He smelled like a man. I think that was a man.' There were a couple of boys in high school, but adolescent jacking off doesn't really count. I read that somewhere. Lots of heterosexual men do that.

I've had sex with women. 'Did you enjoy it?' Yes. Definitely. I think so. I remember that time Phoebe and I had sex at Doyle's gravesite. Up till now that was the sexual highpoint of my life. Up till now...

I won't do it again, I told myself. But by the time I got to that untruth, I already wanted him again.

I spent hours agonizing over my feelings before the real problems even occurred to me. Scully. Oh. My. God. What would she say? Would she find out? My apartment was probably bugged. Who else would find out? Today's modern FBI more or less tolerates homosexual agents. (Of course I wasn't one.) But having sex with a known felon was more than sufficient to merit dismissal. At the very least, it was certainly going to affect how people treated me or whether they trusted me. I almost laughed trying to imagine the look on A.D. Skinner's face, but then sank into the gloom.

The next morning in my office, waiting for Scully to arrive, I'd managed to whip myself up into a fine case of anxiety. I became irrationally convinced that she'd take one look at me and know that I'd had sex with Alex Krycek. When she finally entered the office I was tacking something up onto my bulletin board. I didn't even hear her.

"Morning, Mulder."

"Waaahh," I screamed, dropping a large box of pushpins.

She responded with a hearty laugh.

I was glad to hide my face in the floor, picking them all up. But when she came over to help I got flustered. Went down on one knee and yelped as my knee encountered the sharp end of a pin.

"You're in fine form this morning. Let's try to avoid anything really dangerous today, Mulder."

"Like scissors?"

I was just starting to feel in control again, when she stopped picking up pins and looked at me. "You look different this morning. Your face is kind of... rosy."

I lost it completely. I wanted to get my flushed face away from her as quickly as possible. I bolted to my feet, muttered something about remembering a meeting and walked out. In the continuing vein of the morning's screw-ups, I left my suit coat on my chair. This meant I had neither my badge nor my entry card, so I couldn't even leave the basement. I also didn't have my cell phone, so I couldn't make any phone calls. The only place I could think of to go was the men's room.

There's not much to do in the men's room, so I unzipped my pants and peed. Of course, thinking about Krycek while holding my dick had an unwanted effect. I crammed my partial erection uncomfortably into my pants and paced the bathroom trying to think.

'Calm down, Mulder. The harder you try not to think about something the more you will think about it. Just get him out of your head and you'll be fine.'

It was too soon to return from my imaginary meeting and I didn't want to face Scully yet, so I wandered the basement. There were a few other unappreciated agents who had offices down here. Or so I thought, but as I looked around I realized it was just the accounting department. I walked into one open but empty office and sat down at the desk a plaque declared belonged to one Margie Jones. I picked up "Accounting for Dummies" and read for a while. Did you know that the accounting valuation you place on inventory directly affects the net income for the period?

Finally I realized I was acting like a teenager and returned to my office.

Scully gave me an inquisitive look. I watched her scrutinize my face and decide to say nothing.

"So, Scully, did you hear about that serial killer in Maine?"

At the end of the day, I was relieved to conclude that I had retained my lifelong ability to ignore my personal problems through hard work.

I worked as late as I could stand and picked up a sandwich on the way home. Of course the first thing I saw when I got home was the dining table, both chairs left out and half a pizza happily rotting away. I turned on the TV and watched a ball game I didn't care about.

I didn't order pizza again for a few weeks, thinking it would be better if I never saw him again. Then I lost my resolve and ordered pizza every other night for a few weeks hoping he'd turn up. When he didn't, I finally decided that he was doing me a favor—a big one.


10 June 1998

Mulder

Scully and I got called in on a case to find a kidnapped scientist, Marie Chao. RNA Technologies, a biotech firm in Santa Clara, California, employed Dr. Chao. Last week her brother reported her missing. No paranormal bouquet on this case, but two directors on the RNA Tech board were affiliated with Roush, an elusive company with apparent ties to the government conspiracy. When Skinner joined us on the westbound flight I knew something unusual was up.

We searched the doctor's house. It was obvious that we hadn't been the first ones to do so. In the bedroom I found impressions in the carpet in front of the dressers, where someone had stacked the drawers there. In the corner of her home office, five Morleys had been stubbed out into her carpet. Ever confident, Cancerman didn't care that we could DNA test his saliva. There were suspicious gaps in the very neat sequence of files in Chao's filing cabinet.

When we got to RNA Tech some bigwig led Skinner away without granting Scully and me an introduction. The two of us searched Dr. Chao's office, overseen by a junior executive who appeared to be present to ensure that we didn't find anything. Scully tried to lose him by requesting Dr. Chao's personnel records, but the guy whipped out a cell phone and ordered them up.

I took a careful look at Dr. Chao's bookshelves and picked up the themes—cloning, biophysics and genetics. No paranormal bouquet, just the stink of consortium business... Otherwise, her office had been picked clean. The only file folder contained restaurant menus. Not only were there no clear leads, there was a dearth of anything that looked like her work—even on her PC. We were just going through the motions.

When Skinner came back, we returned to our rental car. One of the back doors was unlocked. I was certain we hadn't left it that way. I made a point of conversing loudly about a soccer game that I'd seen last week. Both Skinner and Scully responded to my hint. I drove us around the neighborhood for almost 20 minutes, blathering on as only I can, until I found a small Mexican restaurant with an outdoor patio. I asked for seating outside and picked the most isolated table I could find.

Skinner was the first to speak. "Another five minutes of your analysis of goalie techniques and Scully would have had to resuscitate me."

I ignored his complaint. "Why do I get the feeling that no one here wants us to find Dr. Chao?"

"I think you're right, Mulder." Skinner shook his head. "I just spent an hour with the CEO being lectured on the extremely sensitive nature of their work, which he was completely unwilling to describe to me in even the vaguest way. If we find her, they don't even want us to talk to her."

I interjected, "I don't know what they're doing at RNA Tech, but I have a bad feeling that it's not for the betterment of mankind."

Scully gave me a glance, and then addressed Skinner. "Why are you here anyway? You don't usually baby-sit us on field assignments."

"The CEO called me yesterday morning and said he wouldn't allow the team access unless accompanied by a senior agent—someone who appreciates the importance of sensitive public relations matters." Even Skinner used a snotty tone on the last few words.

I offered, "So they're being proactive about whatever it is they want to cover up?"

He nodded. "It seems that way."

After lunch we returned to the car rental agency to get rid of our possibly bugged gray sedan and pick up three fresh cars. We had decided to split up. Skinner and I concealed our cars near the plant waiting for end of day departures. I would follow the CEO, Skinner the junior executive and Scully would stay behind to see if anything interesting happened at the plant after hours.

Just before 6 P.M. my man, the CEO, left the building in a powder blue Mercedes four-door. Skinner had already left with Junior. I followed the Mercedes in and out of heavy traffic to the hills of Los Gatos. He pulled up to an extravagant custom home. Probably his, but I called the local field office and requested the names of the residents at that address. I was prepared for a long wait when Skinner phoned me.

"Mulder, I think I've got something. I'm at a deserted office building in San Jose. It appears to be under construction. You're not going to believe this, but I swear I just saw Alex Krycek heading for the front door."

Shit. "Can you give me an address? I'll be right there. I think my man has gone home."

He gave me directions and I begged him not to do anything until I got there.

A Krycek sighting was always an emotional firecracker. Exciting, because it meant that I'm close to something important... But fear provoking, because I'm about to lose control of the situation... And now it was personal, too.

The rat must have been born to torment one Fox Mulder.

I raced down the freeway trying to locate the site on a map as I drove. I got off at the wrong exit, but still managed to get there in less than 20 minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Skinner's rental still parked behind a huge construction dumpster. I could see three other vehicles in the lot on the other side of the three-story building. All seemed quiet as I pulled in behind Skinner's car.

Skinner met me at my door already holding his gun. "He's had some time in there, so I don't know where he his. You take the back and I'll take the front. Phone me if you find anything." I pulled my gun out of my holster, hoping there was someone in that building to use it on besides Alex Krycek.

I nodded and sprinted to the back, knowing I had to hurry to increase my odds of finding Krycek first. The rear door was unlocked. It wasn't a huge building, but it had a large number of small offices. The hall lights were on, but most of the offices were dark. No signs of construction.

I listened to silence for a minute, then proceeded to the first door. Empty. No furniture. No bad guys. Exiting, I hung back in the doorway listening again. I proceeded in that manner down the hall. About half way down, I heard something overhead: water running in a pipe.

I reminded myself that things hadn't changed between Krycek and I. That was sex; this was not. If I found him, it was business as usual.

I continued down the corridor, when I felt the pulse of my cell phone. I opened it silently and whispered into it, "Mulder."

"I've got him."

"Where are you?"

"In the front, about halfway down the West side—an office by the water fountain."

"I'll be right there."

I crept back to a corridor that led forward. When I reached the front hall, I could make out a drinking fountain on the far right-hand side. No more sounds from above. I made my way to the fountain, turned into a doorway and saw them.

Skinner had Krycek standing back against the wall, hand on his head and legs spread. The A.D. held his gun to Krycek's jaw and was growling at him in a throaty whisper, "Tell me, Krycek or I'm going to blow your brains out."


Chapter 2

Mulder

Krycek was cool, shaking his head. He'd been threatened by Skinner before. "They won't let you take her alive."

Skinner sensed me; his eyes darted to verify my identity. I nodded and walked over to where they stood.

Skinner jammed one knee up between Alex's legs. The grunting response was consistent with smashing the most sensitive place on a man's body. "Tell me what I need to know, Krycek." Krycek was struggling to breathe at this point.

After all the times I'd beat him myself, I didn't like watching Skinner hurt him. Seeking an excuse to get the A.D. out of the room, I whispered, "Let me work on him while you search the rest of the first floor. I don't want anyone to surprise us in here."

Skinner looked at Krycek like he really needed to hit him again, but then he nodded. "I'll come back when I'm done with this floor."

I pointed my gun at Krycek, as I had done many times before. This was different—even though I didn't want it to be. I watched those soulful eyes and waited until I could no longer hear Skinner's footsteps. It was pizza night all over again. Eye contact with the bastard was sex.

He slowly lowered his arm. He wiped his sweating forehead with his hand, still catching his breath, as a hint of a grin quirked his lips. My cock responded to the memory of that night. Krycek put his arm behind my neck and pulled me into a kiss. An insane kiss that shouldn't have been happening here. I kissed him back. He pulled away after a moment, his voice husky "I've been wanting that for too long."

I fought the urge to ask him why he hadn't come back for more.

He smiled again and I wanted to hit him, fuck him or something. Shit, the man just looks at me and my body goes haywire.

He spoke again, taking a more serious tone. "You've got to get out of here, Mulder, or someone's going to get killed."

"We're trying to find Dr. Chao."

"She's here, but they didn't leave her alone." He shook his head at me—a warning.

"So, we'll be careful."

"I know these guys, Mulder. They'll think I'm on their side. I'm the only one who can get to her without getting shot."

"What? I'm supposed to wait here and let you go after her? And what exactly are you being paid to do?"

Krycek looked at his shoes, faking contrition. It didn't take much imagination to guess his assignment.

I could feel his body heat.

Electric green eyes found mine. "She's on the third floor, toward the front." He looked away then back again. "But you have to let me go for her. You'll just get yourself killed. I'll get her for you, Mulder."

Kiss this man? Fuck him? Sure. Trust him? Not in this lifetime. And, yet... sometimes I could trust Krycek. Trying to ascertain if this was one of those times made my brain go TILT. I let my gut decide.

"What do I tell Skinner?"

He shrugged and shook his head.

I had no brilliant ideas, so we went with a mediocre one. "You're going to have to escape. I've got this permanent bump on the side of my head. I'll tell Skinner you hit me with the butt of my gun." I made clear, unambiguous eye contact with him. "But you can't kill her, Krycek."

Alex looked dubious. "You had the gun on me. I have one fucking arm. He's not going to believe-"

"He'll have to believe it. It's just lame enough to be true." Against my will, my hand reached up and stroked the side of his face. "Remember, you're not going to kill Dr. Chao." I'm not sure who I was trying to convince.

He gave me a curt nod, "I get Chao, while you wait for Skinner..."

"Then I tell him I think she's on the second floor, toward the back."

"I come out with the doctor—out the front—and you get her away from me. Wait... Without your gun?"

"But you escape."

"No one is going to believe this story, Mulder."

"Well, they'll have to. We don't have time to make up a better one."

He knew I was right. I handed him my gun. Icy fear invaded my spine: I just gave Alex Krycek my gun. He gave me a glance I couldn't read—regret, perhaps? Then he disappeared.

Somehow sex had changed everything. I wasn't the least bit happy about it.

I scratched that bump on my head, so it would look inflamed. I lay on the ground faking unconsciousness trying not to hope for Krycek's safe passage. What was I fucking doing?

Minutes later I heard Skinner's steps. Followed by his curse, "Oh, shit. Mulder."

He pulled my head into his lap and was looking down into my eyes as I opened them. "I'm sorry, sir."

His deep voice softened. "You okay?"

"I was distracted by a sound overhead. He got my gun and nailed me with it." The lie left a bad taste in my mouth. Skinner was my friend. Krycek was not.

"Where?"

"Here."

He felt around in my head and found the lump. "Can you stand up?"

"Yeah." I leaned against him and he pulled us both up. I faked being dizzy and slumped back down. "You're going to have to find her and come back for me. I'll be okay in a few minutes."

Skinner gave me a worried look. I knew what he was thinking. Mulder wanting to stay safe out of the action was proof of the severity of my head injury. "I can't leave you here. You don't even have a gun." Skinner grimaced. He pulled his own revolver out of his waistband.

"No! You're going to need it," I said. Then I felt a rush of fear, afraid he'd end up using it on Alex.

"Wait, I have Krycek's Glock." He handed me the weapon and stared at me for a long moment. "Call for backup."

I nodded, as he turned to leave. "Skinner? Those footsteps... Second floor heading toward the back of the building..."

He nodded and was gone.

It took me only a moment to realize that either of them could get killed and it would be my fault. While I sat there, uninjured, doing nothing useful to protect anyone... I looked at my watch to count out three minutes before I went looking for Dr. Chao myself. It wasn't even another minute before I heard shots fired.

Krycek

I shot Davidson, Hart and the dweeb from RNA Tech with Mulder's SIG Sauer. The Consortium slacker boys only got off one shot—a perfect hit if they were aiming for the light switch. Dr. Chao looked at me like I was her hero.

I was hired to kill the doctor, so I took advantage of the sex with Mulder. One kiss, a little manipulation and he was susceptible to me. I bluffed my way to freedom, even got him to give me his gun and lie to Skinner. It was cruel to use him like that, but I've got to stay alive, don't I?

Betraying Mulder again was easy, or so I thought until I looked at Chao standing there and asked myself why she was still alive.

I had five minutes at most before the gunshots brought Skinner.

I put my hand around her throat, not too tightly, but enough to ensure that I had her undivided attention. I started speaking before I even realized what I was going to say. "Dr. Chao, you need to listen to me very carefully. I've been hired to kill you..." Her eyes flared in panic. "But I don't want to do that. So you've got to help me. There are two ways this can end. One, I kill you. Or two, I let you escape, but if you tell what you know, then they'll kill me. So you have to tell me how you want it. Are you willing to be silent forever, so both of us can stay alive?" With my gun at her temple, she rapidly made the right choice. I hoped she'd stand by her decision. Even if she didn't talk, I might find myself facing a bullet anyway.

Shit.

I led Dr. Chao out of the building. Mulder tackled me on the front walkway. The contact felt good. I wanted only one thing more than rolling him over and fucking him where we lay—to live. So I scrambled away to explain myself to my employer. And to wonder why I was risking my life for the memory of one god damned blowjob...

Mulder

I looked forward to debriefing Dr. Chao, but she disappointed me. The doctor explained calmly that she'd been working on a confidential project and hadn't been able to get home for a few days. She had nothing to say to us about what had happened. She wouldn't even describe her captors. I couldn't make her talk, even after suggesting that she be held for the murders. We'd found three corpses—the weasely junior executive and two others we hadn't yet identified. No doubt killed with my gun.

Krycek had yet again kept me from obtaining the evidence I sought. Damn him! Damn his sexy little ass.

That night I lay in bed in my hotel room. The consequences of having sex with Krycek really hit me. Even if no one ever found out, I'd had sex with a liar and murderer. I tried to be an ethical human being. How could I possibly be attracted to this man? Yet, inexplicably, I was. My body was the real traitor—giving me this perverse desire for him.

I reviewed my accounting of his crimes. There were a lot of probables. I saw him kill Cole, but I'm certain that Cole tricked him. He'd probably killed the Skyland Mountain tram operator and Duane Barry. My father... The militia truck driver... The courier thrown off Skinner's balcony... Scully had linked Luis Cardinal to her sister's murder. If Krycek had killed her, or worse—Scully, would I forgive him? No. Do I forgive him for any of his crimes? No. Would I have sex with him again if he was here right now? Probably. Revise that—definitely.

There wasn't any clear resolution for me. I didn't know who the assassin was working for—maybe no one did. He'd lied to me. Betrayed me. I still wanted him. I just didn't feel good about that. I couldn't.

Two days later, we returned to D.C. I took a cab home from the airport. I opened the door and turned on the light. Krycek was waiting for me. It was just after midnight.

"How did you know when I'd be back?"

He just shrugged and pulled me into an embrace.

Krycek seemed fresher than I was, but, of course, in his line of work he didn't complete each assignment with two days of paperwork. I rubbed my thigh against his and discovered his erection. I wanted him, but I was exhausted. I pulled away and slumped on the sofa. "I'm too tired."

He smiled sadly and went into the kitchen, returning with a beer, which he opened deftly with the fingers of one hand. He handed it to me and sat on the coffee table facing me, watching me.

I drank my beer, looking at him, looking out the window and just thinking. Krycek wasn't much of a talker. He seemed content to observe me, but I noticed his body was tense, ready for anything.

When did beating him stop being an option? The day the fucker seduced me.

I needed to talk to him, but I didn't know where to begin. Aliens? My father? Dr. Chao? Why he was here? Why he didn't come back after the first time? Who did he work for?

My emotions were flying, too. I used to get angry when I saw him because he'd done so much to hurt me. And Scully. Now he had more power over me, not less. I tried to go down the path of 'he's not such a bad guy, he helped rescue Dr. Chao.' That was such a joke. Maybe he hadn't killed my father, but he'd killed someone along the way and he didn't do it in self-defense.

Finally I asked, "What was your assignment in San Jose?"

He hesitated and I figured he was making up another lie, until he said, "Kill Dr. Chao." My hand twitched in an aborted attempt to reach for the phone. I thought to warn her, but then I realized that she already knew her life was in danger. I also suspected that Krycek wouldn't admit to his assignment if he still intended to kill her.

The assassin watched me intently, his frown making a quirky little crease at the bridge of his nose.

"Who gave that order? Why?"

"No, Mulder." His voice left no room for discussion. "I start telling you things like that and people are going to die. Me. You. Others. No way, Mulder."

I started to ask why he hadn't killed the doctor, but then I had a strange feeling I couldn't remember having before. I didn't want to know.

I gave him a hesitant smile, maybe the first time I'd ever smiled at him. His tight face seemed to hold back a response. "Why'd you come here tonight?"

"Lust." He smiled tentatively.

"Then why didn't you come back before?"

His gaze shifted away. "You said it yourself. Your life is better without me in it."

"Does that make any difference to you?"

"Apparently," he replied bitterly.

I sat up, feeling cold all of the sudden.

Krycek was a time bomb. I'd thought that my life was screwed up before, but I couldn't begin to name all the reasons I didn't want to be caught fucking Alex Krycek. Scully, Skinner, Dad, the FBI code of conduct, my own heterosexual self-image. I'd stepped into something really nasty.

My rational mind was working on asking him to leave, when this tiny voice peeped up from the depths of my psyche. 'You need to be touched,' it said and I started to cry. I hate to cry, but the loneliness exploded in my chest. I thought of the damned few times anyone had touched me nicely in the last five years. Make that ten years. Make that twenty-five. I looked back at my life and felt all the sadness since Samantha was taken. And I bawled my little G-man's heart out.

I saw Alex through my wet eyes. He wanted to do something, but didn't know what.

I pushed back the tears. I felt I deserved a little happiness in my life, not another twenty-five years of denying myself everything nice. Then I laughed. Once I started I could not stop. I laughed at the idea that Krycek qualified as something nice. My life was so perversely turned around.

He watched me with... I think it was envy. He tried to look like he thought I was crazy, but it didn't work.

I laughed until I cried again. And then I felt good. Peaceful.

"You going to tell me what was so funny?"

"Nope." I took him by the hand. "I'm going to take you to bed." And I led him to my bedroom.

"Take off your clothes," I said to him in the glow of my bedside lamp.

He started to unbutton his shirt.

I tossed a half dozen books off the edge of the unmade bed and went to work on my own shirt.

"I thought you were straight, Mulder." He tossed his shirt on the floor.

I grimaced my reply, "So did I."

Krycek laughed at me. His gentle laugh was a beautiful thing. He opened his jeans and ran his palm up from his crotch to his chest to tease me. His muscular chest was nearly hairless, but a trail of fine black hair began at his navel, darting provocatively toward his crotch.

The tease worked all too well. I went to him and grabbed him by the hair. "You bastard." I wrapped my arms around him. "There is no fucking way I was meant to be attracted to you." I slammed my body into his knocking us both onto the bed. "How could this happen?"

His laugh was wicked now.

During those few milliseconds it took for us to land on the bed I made a decision. I deserved to be touched and I wanted him. I let myself completely desire Krycek the way I felt it deep inside without so many layers of denial. I felt impulsive and dangerous and intoxicated.

I rolled on top of him letting him feel my weight and kissed him. His mouth was hot. His tongue chased mine. I inserted one leg in between his and used my knees to force his legs open.

He pulled his mouth off mine and bit my neck. Hard. I twisted to escape the bite and he slipped out from under me. "I don't want you on top." He came at me with a wrestling move and flipped me onto my back.

I was surprised by his strength. I'd thought my two-armed advantage was more substantial. I made him work to keep me there on my back, but it was work for me, too.

He aggressively took a kiss from me, as if I hadn't wanted to give it. But I consented into his mouth stealing his victory. I savored the spicy taste of Krycek. He nipped at my lower lip before pulling his head back to look at me. Green eyes bored into me the way one looks at a long sought prize. It gave me pause. I'd never thought of myself like that. Desired.

There was some indefinable connection between the blood flowing in his veins and the blood in mine. As obviously wrong as it was to bed this man, it was also so perfectly right as to have been inevitable.

Krycek leaned back, allowing his arm to take his weight, still gazing at me. I could see the muscles in his arm and chest. He wasn't overbuilt like some body builder, but he was bigger than me. And solid. I touched his forearm and his biceps and his chest. I'd never had anyone that strong on top of me. I liked it. A lot. I think I was high on his testosterone. Or maybe he'd stolen those pheromones from the Kindred. What a way to die, I thought, my hand reaching down into the back of his pants. His butt was muscular too.

He clenched his ass when my fingers got too far down his crack. "Behave yourself," he whispered.

"We wouldn't be here if I wanted to behave myself."

He lowered himself back onto me. I relished the pressure of his weight on my body.

My tongue found his ear and he squirmed away. "Let's get the rest of these clothes off." The husky sound of his voice made me frantic to touch more of him.

He kicked off his shoes and lifted his butt to slide off his jeans. No underwear. I got my first good look at his cock. It was thicker than mine and about the same length. Nice.

I'd imagined that cock often in the past few months. I knew what I wanted to do. But first I had to get serious about removing the rest of my clothes. Leaving the belt in my pants, I peeled them down and kicked them away. I lifted my hips again to free my boxers and threw them somewhere.

Rolling onto my side, I found him facing me. I kissed the side of his face, his chin and his neck. The pale skin on his neck was surprisingly soft. He wriggled a little so I moved down. I remembered the scratchy feel of his five o'clock shadow on my chest, so I rubbed mine across him. He groaned his delight.

I could feel his respiration in the rapid rhythm of his chest. His heart was pounding, too. His skin was smooth, but taut over his muscles. My hands explored reaching lower. I wanted him really turned on. As I pulled away from his chest, so I could find what my hands were looking for, I took a deep breath. His cock was bigger than it had been just a moment before. It was definitely longer than mine. "God you're hung." I felt a pang of anxiety remembering where I'd wanted to put it.

He smiled at me, a little flushed. "I'm glad you approve." But he read my face. "You've never done this before, have you?"

I was so embarrassed. "I jacked off a few boys."

"In high school, right?"

"Yeah."

He gave me a skeptical look. "Just jack me off."

The way he looked at me... No way was I playing nervous novice to Krycek's experienced gay man. I'd received blowjobs; I could give one. I pushed him onto his back and lowered myself between his legs. Reaching for his cock, I let him think he'd won for the moment.

At first I just brushed it lightly.

"Mmm." I felt his hand on my shoulder, rubbing lightly.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah, but harder is good, too."

I chuckled and kept my touch light. I ran one finger around the ridge and then down the underside of the shaft. Then I squeezed one hand around the base of his cock. It had beautiful veins like bodybuilders have on their arms. The ultimate masculine appliance. And though it felt a bit foreign to me it also felt so damned good in my hands. My own cock was urging me on.

I slid both hands up and down the shaft. The tip was starting to leak fluid. Krycek ran his fingertips into my hair, sort-of massaging my head. I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled my head further toward his crotch and licked the tip of his cock.

"Stop," he commanded and pulled my face away with an iron grip.

That was not the reaction I was expecting. "What?"

His voice softened, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Sure I'm sure," I replied in my best snotty voice, giving him a good glare.

"Okay! Just use a condom."

"What?"

He was pissed now. "A condom, so you don't have to swallow anything you're not used to..."

"You didn't use one on me."

"You've never done this before, Mulder."

"Fuck it. I'm not using a condom."

His cock was no longer quite as hard, but that might have been a good thing for my first blowjob. I lay my face on his belly and licked the tip again. It didn't taste like much, a little bitter.

He was rapidly getting harder. I figured the best strategy was to start at the top. I took the head fully inside my mouth and spent some time exploring it. Supposedly this was about pleasing him, but I'm an oral guy. It was a damned nice thing to suck on.

I alternately kissed the tip and sucked on the head. I could feel around the ridge with my tongue. I tried to penetrate the opening. I sucked on the head again. Mmm, I thought to myself. Just about the right size for a good chew toy. I nibbled at him carefully with my teeth.

That got a reaction. "Oh. God. Mulder."

I leaned over him, opened my mouth wide and took in as much as I could without using my throat. That got me about half way down his shaft. Thank god I have a big mouth. I put a hand at the base of his cock and squeezed.

He groaned, releasing my hair. His hand slid up to his belly and began to twitch.

I sucked as hard as I could on the upper half of his cock, using my lips on him. I worked my mouth onto him then off and on again. My hand kept with the rhythm on the lower part of his shaft.

Krycek was moaning to my rhythm now and his breath was raspy. I knew I could bring him off this way, but I really wanted to go all the way. I wanted to give him the best damned blowjob I could.

I pulled completely off his cock and took a deep breath. Then I pushed my mouth onto him as hard as I could. I got about 2/3 the way down before I gagged and pulled up again.

"Too fast," he yelped at me.

"Yeah," I muttered and took him again. This time I went slow, slow, slow. I felt pressure in my throat and that excited me, so I went faster and gagged again, pulling back, but not all the way off this time.

"Don't... make... me give... you... a lesson..." He fought to breathe between the words, so I wasn't worried about him losing interest.

I went down on him again, very slowly, wrapping my mouth and tongue as tightly as I could. I could feel him in my throat and I was so pleased with myself. I could even feel his balls pressing against my chin. As long as I didn't think about it too much, I could keep from choking.

He was making deep groans like a dying animal.

I pulled off a little and went down again. He was muttering between moans—incoherent words of praise.

When I knew he was right at the edge I took him as deeply as I possibly could and he started to come. Unfortunately, he began to thrust into my mouth and I gagged like crazy but somehow held on, until I felt the spasms in his cock subside.

I relinquished his shrinking cock and reached for a tissue. I hadn't meant to swallow any of it. I just didn't think about it until it was too late. Wiping up what I didn't swallow from my face, I decided that swallowing was a much tidier strategy.

Alex watched me out of the corner of his eyes, with a smug, but sated smile.

"Did you enjoy that?" I asked with my own smugness.

"Mmmm."

He was lying back, very relaxed, green eyes blissfully defocused. I smiled to myself knowing that I did that to him. It scared me to realize how much I'd wanted to please him. I'm a pretty selfish guy.

I found another pillow and lay down beside him. My plan was to wait there patiently, but my cock needed attention, so I began to stroke it lightly.

"Stop that, Mulder."

"I didn't think you were conscious."

"Uh hmm."

"Well, if you pull yourself together, you can stop me yourself."

He was up in an instant, hanging over me for a kiss. A really slow kiss. I was still stroking my cock, hoping he wouldn't notice. But his hand appeared out of nowhere and pushed mine away. Then he was stroking my cock. Then he stopped.

"Hey."

"Just a minute," he snapped impatiently. He sat up and manipulated his neck into a satisfying crunch.

He turned back to me and pulled my hand off my cock again. "Christ, Mulder!" He raised the offending hand until it was over my head and then he reached for my other one and did the same. "Keep them there."

"Why?"

His face loomed over mine. "Because. I. Want. You. To." He sneered his determination.

I thought that was a little heavy handed, but I decided to go along with it as long as he did something with my dick. Soon.

When Krycek released my hands I kept them over my head.

He slid his arm under my knees and lifted, so I was exposed to him. Krycek sat between my legs. He wrapped his hand around my cock and stroked it slowly, bent down and took my balls into his mouth. That was good. If only I could get him to do it a little harder and a little faster. It felt like I'd had that hard-on for hours. Years, even.

He lapped around the base of my cock with his tongue and teased me with a few licks up the shaft. Then he increased the pressure with his hand.

My hips were starting to respond. I tried to find something for my hands to hold on to. No headboard, so I ended up gripping the pillow.

He spoke to me in that breathy voice. "I like the way you look. Sprawled out like a sensual cat."

I liked the way he looked at me. I never thought of myself as sexy or handsome. I figured most women didn't care much about my looks. But this man really turned on to me and told me about it. Those beautiful eyes looked at me like I was a hot property. Made me believe it. I writhed around for him under his touch.

He took me fully into his mouth. Oh, god, the feel of that talented mouth wrapped tightly around my cock... How had I survived without this? The necessities of life... you can exist without them, but you wouldn't call it living...

Keeping my arms above my head, at his command, was intense. I was giving myself to him. To Alex Krycek. The powerlessness of it was just a mind game, because there was nothing I wanted him to do more than exactly what he was doing.

His hand reached under my butt and fingers teased my anus. I was dying and finally lost control and began thrusting into his face. He didn't gag like I had, but gave a muffled grunt. His eyes shined. The bastard liked having his face fucked! The very idea put me over the edge. I bucked harder into him and came. My head exploded into the insanity of my orgasm. I felt myself shoot into his mouth, still glommed onto me.

He lay beside me as my breath slowed. I felt so damned good. At that moment I didn't care what he was.

"You're good at that, Alex." I hadn't called him that in years.

He smirked. "I love making you helpless with just my mouth."

I bristled at the word helpless. I knew he was too dangerous to be helpless around, but here I was in bed with him. "Did I... was I..."

"You're incredibly hot, Mulder. I enjoyed every minute." He brushed his lips on mine for emphasis. "You know you haven't hit me once tonight or even called me a bad name."

"Liar. Traitor. Rat bastard. Morally bankrupt slime. Asshole. Fucker. Cocksucker. Feel better?"

"Gee thanks, Mulder."

I was feeling many emotions now. Some of them I simply did not wish to feel, so I pushed them away.

Krycek

I didn't care that his blowjob screamed novice. Watching that beautiful man with his mouth full trying to please me more than made up the difference in technique.

Who would've dreamt that this cynical, angry man would be so sweet in bed? Innocent like the child he must have been before they took Samantha... What twisted sense of self-preservation allowed him to show that vulnerable side to me? It made me want to protect him.

And me, with all my masks and pseudo-masculine crap, I was just awed by him. I swear I checked his eyes twice for black film thinking it had to be some kind of trap.

I was in trouble. Big trouble. The only way I'd ever managed to stay alive was by not thinking about anyone but myself.

We fell asleep for I don't know how long, but were awakened by the doorbell. Sunlight breached the blinds. A clock on the bedside table read 8:27.

He said, "Shit," and rolled over wrapping an arm around my waist. That sleepy touch, when he could have been kicking me out of his bed, meant a lot to me.

"Aren't you going to answer it?"

Pounding on the door was followed by a muffled female voice, "Mulder, it's me."


Chapter 3

Krycek

Mulder's body went rigid.

"Scully?"

He nodded, rising to put on his pants. "Stay here. I'll get rid of her."

I heard her in the doorway. "I brought breakfast."

Mulder came back in a minute. He looked at me oddly—conflicted. "She's upset. She needs someone to talk to." He pulled on his shirt and grabbed his shoes. His hair was plastered flat on one side with a ridge sticking straight up in the middle of his head.

I was already up, putting on my clothes, thankful I hadn't left them on his sofa. "Hey, okay. No problem."

Mulder looked at me. Uncomfortable. "I'll try to get her to go somewhere with me. Give me 15 minutes."

"Sure." I wanted to kiss him, but I lost my confidence again. I forced a smile.

After he was gone, I opened his window and crawled out onto the fire escape.

I walked a couple of blocks to where I'd left my car. The BMW was my very first automatic transmission. It was a lot of work to drive a stick shift with one hand. I lay on the ground next to it and scanned the underside. No unwelcome surprises. I hopped up and checked the hood and the trunk. The wax I'd used to seal a couple of spots was untouched. I sat inside my car with my feelings. Well-fucked. Pleased with myself. Worried. Sad. Excited.

Mulder

When I saw Scully's face, I knew she needed me. That didn't happen often; usually I needed her. I hoped I didn't smell like sex.

We sat on the couch. She brought bagels, yogurt (for her) and cream cheese (for me). She looked up at me with sad, blue eyes. "It's Melissa's birthday. I just needed to be with someone who understands."

My stomach sank into my intestines. I don't see how I could have felt worse if I'd killed Melissa myself. She was mourning her sister and I'd just come from fucking Krycek. He and his associates were responsible for Scully's pain. The part of my mind that hated him woke up.

When I returned to the bedroom ten minutes later for shoes and socks, he was gone. I was so fucking relieved.

Krycek

I was glad to get away to think and just be by myself again. Alex Krycek is a solitary animal. My mind functions best alone.

Unfortunately, my Mulder craving—far from being satisfied—was worse than before. I wanted the sex. I could accept that. But I caught myself imagining that he forgave me for the things I'd done. Even scarier, I had a fantasy that I'd met him before I'd become involved with the Consortium. I tried to shake off these dangerous, nagging thoughts. Mulder sucked my cock knowing what I was. If it didn't prevent him from being with me, why should I worry about it?

I doubted that I could work anymore. San Jose taught me that I couldn't be out trying to kill people he's trying to rescue. I'm lucky to be alive after that fiasco. That walking ashtray, Spender, would have taken me out for sure, or at least tried again. Fortunately, I was working for Witherspoon. He likes to pretend he's a higher cut of man—must be a British class thing. But I'd strained my arrangement with the man. I'd certainly made him look foolish in front of the other old men. No doubt I'd be made to pay for that somehow, someday.

You don't call in sick to these guys, either, but I managed to convince Witherspoon that I needed to have surgery on my arm and wouldn't be available for a few weeks.

If—not if, but when—they found out that I was doing Mulder, they were going to find me fast. I knew they'd suspect me of going bad—or would telling Mulder consortium secrets be considered going good? They'd probably just kill me and not bother to inquire about the subtleties. I had to find some way to worm out of this mess. If I wanted to see Mulder again. And I did want to see Mulder again.

I had a little money. Enough to survive for a few months until I sorted things out.

I had some big problems to solve, but my thoughts kept coming back to Mulder. The memory of him trying to prove himself with his first blowjob. The taste of him. The feel of his skin on mine. My body needed it. He was as essential as oxygen.

I only managed to stay away from him for a couple of days. When I showed up Sunday night, his car was parked out front. I knocked on the door never knowing what to expect at chez Mulder. He looked at me rather sadly, but let me in. The room smelled of Chinese food.

He spoke before we reached the couch. "I want the sex, Krycek, you know I do, but I'm having trouble with the rest of it."

"Yeah, me, too." I don't think he even heard me.

We sat facing each other on the couch. He took me by the shoulders to make sure he had my attention. "I'm not even thinking about the FBI code of conduct. What is Scully going to think of me if she finds out? What do I think of myself?"

I felt like dirt that he didn't want on him—dirt so bad, you've got to scrape it off your shoe before you enter the house. But I wanted him. "Mulder, I don't know about any of that. I never had enough of anybody's respect to lose it."

"That's sad, Alex," he replied without much feeling.

I just closed my eyes, certain I wasn't ready to face whatever came next.

His voice gentled. "Why didn't you kill Dr. Chao?"

I'd been dreading this question, because I knew my answer was so irrational. I tried to sink into the sofa. I wanted to lie. I even paused long enough to think up a clever lie, but then I told him the truth anyway. "I couldn't... I couldn't use the sex against you."

He put a finger under my chin and nudged my face up. "Did you risk your life for that?"

"Yes," I whispered as if quieter words might be less painfully true.

He sat back for a long time, thinking.

I tensed and tried not to fidget. I knew he was judging me.

Finally he leaned forward, facing me. When his mouth opened again, I was chilled to hear his flat interrogation voice. I knew immediately what sort of questions were coming. "Did you have orders to kill Cole?"

I swallowed so hard it hurt. My shoulders tightened as I erected my defenses. "No."

"Did you do it because you thought he held a gun?"

"Yes."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes." I did not like where this was going. My palm started to sweat. I had no rational explanation for why I was still in that room.

"Did you kill the tram operator on Skyland Mountain?"

"No."

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes."

"Look at me."

I did. His face was hard, showing nothing. The consummate professional...

"Is that the truth?"

"Yes. I cold cocked him, but left him alive." I wanted out of his apartment as badly as I'd wanted in before. I'm not sure why I stayed. Maybe I felt I owed him. It had to be the same reason I'd let him beat me up so many times. Somehow I felt I had to answer to this man.

"Did you kill Duane Barry?"

"Yes." God, I hope he hadn't bugged his own living room. I felt so out of control. I didn't know why I gave him honest answers to these questions.

"Under the orders of Cancerman?"

"Yes." Spender probably had wired Mulder's living room. Fuck.

"Did you know that Scully was going to be abducted?"

I had to pause to jack up my don't-give-a-damn facade. "Yes."

I saw Mulder's jaw twitch, but he continued in the flat tone. "Did you give anyone her home address?"

"No. They already knew. I don't know who told Barry."

"Could you have prevented it?"

Now there was a question I really didn't want to answer. This was going to hurt him a lot more and the answer was less clear. I closed my eyes. I recalled the countermeasures I had proposed that they'd rejected.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I complied.

"Could you have prevented Scully's abduction?"

I tried to think of anything to not have to say this to him. I hadn't experienced a lot of guilt in my life. I had to wonder how... what... this man was doing to me. "Yes. At least delayed it."

His eyes turned cold and he backhanded me across the face. Hard. At least I wasn't looking at him anymore. In my head, I silently begged him to stop asking me questions. I'd rather be hit.

My lip was bleeding. I didn't look at him when he passed me a handkerchief. I studied the leather of his sofa. I was cocky before, even with him. Now I felt like scum.

I was appalled by the power Mulder had over me. I'd handed it to him. I'd never let anyone get under my skin like that. Couldn't. Shouldn't have, even with him. Especially with him.

He grabbed my chin roughly and pulled me to face him again. He scanned my face, looking for a different kind of answer.

It hurt to look at him. I wanted him so badly. I wanted his lean body pressed against me to obliterate the ugly consequences of my actions. I didn't want to be more vulnerable to him, but I couldn't stop myself from saying it, "Fuck me, Mulder."

He bent forward as if to kiss me, but I stopped him with my hand against his chest. "I'm bleeding. Just fuck me."

Mulder shook his head as if he knew it was wrong to turn this into sex, but he stood up.

We tore off our clothes. He led me to the bedroom. He opened a drawer next to his bed and pulled out a condom and a bottle of lube.

I pushed the pillow away and lay down flat on the bed, hiding my face.

I felt his weight on the bed. Then a knee against my side and hands on my shoulders. He massaged my back, trying to smooth out some of my tension.

"No foreplay. Just fuck me, dammit." I was so hard, and so tense, and so... dirty. I just wanted him to drive it all away.

He whispered, "Okay." He shifted and slid down the bed. I opened my legs for him and felt him situate himself in between them.

A cool, moist finger circled my anus and pushed gently into me.

His kindness was going to break me. "No, no," I cried, "Just..." I couldn't even talk. I needed it so badly. Wanted his cock up my ass to be the last thing I felt before I died from the pain of what I'd done to this man. I was shaking with need.

His finger was withdrawn. "Okay, Alex." I waited with agonizing impatience as he put on the condom. Finally, I felt the head of his cock press up against me. Without hesitation, he pushed into me. All the way into me. It felt so damned good. I braced myself on my forearm and met his second thrust with my own toward him.

Then, mercifully, he stopped being gentle. He reached around me with one hand and grabbed my cock. He held it at the base and slammed into me.

"Yes," was the only word I could spit out. It was so right. I needed his anger, not his tenderness.

He lifted me up so I was kneeling and started jerking me off as he pushed my ass onto his cock and his cock into my ass. The feel of him riding me was unbearably intense. I wanted it to last forever, but his hand was so rough on my dick. I could feel his cock sliding across my prostate and I lost it.

I came screaming and fell onto my chest struggling to breathe.

He lowered himself back on to me and fucked me all the harder. He was moaning and breathing heavier than I was. There was no logic functioning in my brain to counter the notion that I was about to die. I needed him to finish it. Kill me or forgive me. Do it, Mulder.

I willed my slumped body to move and tried to tighten my ass around his cock.

It throbbed inside me as he groaned his pleasure and came. Mulder grabbed me around the chest with both hands. I felt him on me, in me, his full weight holding me down. I was inexplicably alive.

The pressure of his body made it harder for me to breathe but I wanted it just that way. After a minute, he pulled out of me and rolled on to his back.

I was afraid to see his face, but I needed to. I curled onto my side.

His eyes were closed. I watched him for maybe ten minutes. When he pretended to fall asleep, I got up and went to the bathroom. I came back with a moist washcloth. I wiped his fingers, took off the condom and tossed it the trash. He pretended to continue to sleep. I rinsed the cloth in the bathroom and went back to him.

I leaned onto the bed and whispered into his ear. "I'm sorry I can't help you with the contradictions."

I went into the living room and put on my clothes. I was still sweating a little. It was cold and I had goosebumps on my arm. I shivered, thinking how badly I wanted to be lying next to him right now, but left anyway.

Waiting for the elevator, I realized I didn't know if he wanted me to return, but I knew that I would, because he might.

Mulder

I wanted him to come back. And, this time, I knew that he would.

For several nights, I replayed every moment of our last encounter in my head. Some new aspect of Alex Krycek troubled me, but I wasn't sure exactly what.

I sensed his fear when he admitted to killing Duane Barry. Admitting to a capital crime in front of an FBI agent takes balls. He couldn't have known how I'd react. I hadn't known. Why did he take the risk that I'd arrest him? Why didn't I? I should have arrested him. I could be fired for not arresting him.

He could have prevented Scully's abduction. I hit him when he said it, but it wasn't like all the times I'd beaten him before. Not that I felt remorse for striking him, but my anger faded quicker than it should have. Surely I wasn't forgiving the man? But I didn't exactly hate him either. I felt extreme regret about his miserable life and for the damage he'd inflicted on others. Especially Scully.

Yet, he'd risked his life to save Dr. Chao, after he'd been hired to kill her. Why? "I couldn't use the sex against you." I raged at him in my head for that. He was capable of killing her, but didn't for my benefit, not hers or any sense of morality?

After I struck him, when I reached for him, I was trying to read his face. What did he feel about his crimes? I couldn't find any clear answers. He had a beautiful face—lean and masculine with the most expressive eyes. He must have to work very hard to conceal the feelings behind those eyes. I thought maybe I saw a little shame in them.

I realize that it's sick for a murderer's confession to lead to sex, but—perversely, like so much about my relationship with Krycek—it felt right. He wanted punishment and I was willing. Maybe I could even admit that I needed it.

I'd never seen Krycek so docile before, as he spread his legs for me. Beautiful ass—firm, round cheeks, with just enough fat to make them smooth... His legs were stretched out showing his muscled hamstrings to their best advantage.

I fucked him hard, with more frustration than anger. But somehow we both got what we needed.

That night I'd seen him afraid, ashamed, needy and hurt. I have felt all those things. Recently. Frequently. I could no longer see Alex as simply an enemy. He was a human being. Not a good one, but human nonetheless. And filled with hopes and fears, just as I was. Maybe some of the same hopes and fears.

We were both imperfect creatures. Flesh and blood, not machines. Somehow we were the same, he and I. Both in conflict with the world around us, seeking redemption and the warmth in the touch of a fellow human being.

Krycek

I had a little hole of an apartment about a mile away from Mulder's. I hardly left it the next week. Mostly I sat around thinking about him and what he'd gotten me to admit. He could have arrested me after I admitted offing Duane Barry, but he didn't. He fucked me instead. I wasn't sure what that meant. He might have taped my confession, but I doubted it.

I was distressed by my own need to tell him the truth. Lying was safer. Much safer. It offered no ammunition that could be used against you later. I'd shown him more of who I really was than I'd ever revealed to anyone and that made me feel appallingly vulnerable.

My guilt was worse than my fear. I'd always been immune to guilt, but hanging around Mulder was changing that rapidly. I'd dumped all this crap into Mulder's life and now I was being pulled into the cesspool myself. Suddenly every rotten thing I'd ever done to the man mattered. The security of my own self-centered shell had been badly breached.

The Alex Krycek I knew couldn't go where I was headed.

When I wasn't sitting around worrying or thinking, I was lying around jacking off to the memories of our various encounters, including some of the times he beat me up. Daydreaming of beatings that ended in him fucking me...

I held out a full week before I went back. Sunday again. I watched his place for over an hour from my old BMW to make sure he didn't have any guests. I figured he'd not be pleased to have me drop in on him and Scully or even—god forbid—Skinner.

I was seriously afraid of rejection when I stood outside his door. I knocked. He opened the door and let me in.

"Would you like a beer?" he offered. A tuft of soft hair stood up defiantly at the back of his head.

"No, thanks." My voice sounded so meek that I had to suppress a groan.

He finished the beer he was holding and took the bottle to the kitchen. I just stood in the living room feeling a little lost, until he came back and took me in his arms.

My tension level dropped about 200%.

He pressed his face toward me for what I thought would be a kiss, but he just brushed his lips across mine and up my cheek. He kissed my eyes and then traced my eyebrows with his fingertip. He explored one of my ears with his lips and kissed my neck. It was so affectionate that I was embarrassed, but my cock was less ambivalent.

He stepped away a little and reached for my T-shirt, which he pulled over my head. Running his hands over my chest and my shoulders, he examined the remains of my left arm. He looked up at me and said in a voice that made me believe him, "You've got a beautiful body. It doesn't make any difference." He touched the stump and I let him.

I grabbed the back of his head and guided him to my face for a kiss. His tongue played with mine inside his mouth, but his hands found the buttons of my jeans. He opened them with a tug and pushed them down around my knees. Mulder reached behind me and cupped my ass with both hands, pressing my groin into his.

For the first time, I could see with simple clarity Mulder's desire for me. Apart from the troubling issues between us, he wanted me just like I wanted him.

He led me to the couch and pressed down on my shoulders, so I sat. Dropping to the floor, he took off my basketball shoes and my socks. Then he removed my pants. He stroked my legs. When he got to my thighs my cock was standing straight up. He teased my inner thighs, first touching lightly then pinching not so lightly. Silently I begged him to pick up the pace, but I knew I'd enjoy every minute if we did it slowly.

I had to get him naked though. "Take off your clothes."

He stood and removed his clothes slowly, but not in a way designed to please me. I don't think his mind went there. It didn't matter; it was sexy as hell anyway. First he revealed his chest. I know the standard for men dictates a more beefy chest, but Mulder looked so sensual to me—muscular, but slim, with a fine trail of hairs pointing to his crotch. Definitely masculine. I had to touch him, so I stood and ran my hand across his chest just feeling his warm flesh between my fingers.

He squatted to remove his shoes and socks. Standing again, he reached for his zipper, but my hand got there first. Opening his fly, I ran my hand inside his underwear and stroked his cock. I pulled down his jeans and briefs at the same time. Resting one hand on my shoulder, he stepped out of them. He had beautiful lean legs. They were hairier than mine. I cupped his buttocks and pressed him into my body, feeling his erection against my belly and mine against his.

I was turned on to the point where I usually need immediate release, but I still wanted to take my time and enjoy his body. I was becoming hooked on that Mulder smell and the feel of his skin. Too good to rush...

On the other hand, my cock was demanding attention. "Condoms? Lube?"

He pulled away reluctantly, trailing one hand across my chest as he departed. I shivered, but I wasn't cold.

Mulder returned with a box and a bottle. He placed them on the coffee table.

"Get me in your mouth."

I expected him to get surly at my ordering him around, but he didn't. He obediently went down on his knees, giving me a head rush better than any drug I'd ever tried.

Mulder started licking my balls, covering every millimeter with his tongue, lapping at the tender skin. He worked his tongue up slowly from the base of my cock. His hands found my butt again. He massaged each cheek, then ran a fingertip down my crack and across my anus. I knew he was remembering our last time together. So was I.

Mulder's tongue got to the head of my cock. He stayed there a long time, exploring and poking with his tongue. His devotion was so sweet. I tried to be patient. My hand found his hair and I pushed his face into me, not trying to get me into his mouth, just enjoying the feeling of his face pressed into my groin. I relinquished my control of his head, but left my fingers in his hair. He had this baby fine hair that I could touch forever. It was like kitty fur on this big man. Ironic and sexy.

After Mulder's tongue had navigated the head of my cock about a thousand times, he took the tip into his mouth. He held onto to it a moment, like savoring a piece of chocolate before eating it. Then he worked it with his lips. He invented a technique of gripping it with his lips and nibbling it. My knees were getting weak. I was sorry to be standing.

"I don't want you to stop, but I need to move," I muttered desperately. He pulled off of me. I wanted him back on my dick ASAP, so I stumbled a few steps and leaned my back against the wall. I'd thought to sit down, but I couldn't resist the beautiful sight of him on his knees at my feet.

He scooted over to me and took me into his mouth again.

"Yeah, Mulder," I said in a raspy voice.

He increased the pressure on my cock. I was certain I couldn't have taken any more, but, oh yeah, I could take more. Fuck, I could spend the rest of my life like this.

Slowly, he began to take all of my cock into his mouth. I removed my hand from his hair, so he'd know I wasn't going to push him. I watched him trying to master this fine art. The sensation and sight of him doing me was bringing me to the very edge. He got me down his throat with just a momentary gag, released me a little and then did it again. And again. My cock was deep in his throat when I lost it completely and came. I threw my head back and it hit the wall I'd forgotten behind me. I didn't care. I felt my cock pulsing in his hot, hot mouth. He held onto my cock, not breathing, until I slumped against the wall.

Releasing my cock, he smiled up at me. I saw something I thought I'd never see in anyone's eyes, especially not his. He was happy for the pleasure he'd given me. And I knew then that the struggle I'd been having between my life and having him in it was over. I'd lost. Whatever it took, I wanted to be with him. Alex Krycek was lost.

Seeing Mulder's trusting grayish green eyes looking up at me, I wondered if he was lost, too.

I pushed the disturbing thoughts aside and pulled him to me. I pressed his face against my belly and stroked his hair.

"What did you want the condoms and the lube for?" he asked.

Oh, yeah. "I wanted to fuck you, dammit, but I couldn't stop."

He laughed into my abdomen. Of course, Mulder was still hard. "How long before you get it up again?"

I groaned and wished I was 16 again. I put my hand in his armpit and guided him to a standing position. I wrapped my hand around his swollen erection. "Not soon enough."

He bit his lip and shook his head with the face of a disappointed six year old.

I released his cock and went to the sofa. I sat and made myself comfortable. He watched me, but didn't move.

"Would you beat off for me?"

He lowered those gorgeous eyes at me and gave me a delicious pout. I knew from his glance that the idea turned him on. "I... I'm not sure."

"It would turn me on. A lot." I gazed into those eyes to tell him just how much I desired him.

He nodded. Sitting on the carpet in front of me, his back against the wall, he opened his legs into a V. He reached for the lube and put a drop in his hand. He smeared the slippery stuff around the head of his cock, and then slid his hand down his shaft. I could feel my cock pulse a little already.

He looked up at me nervously.

"Please continue. It's so hot watching you touch yourself with those beautiful hands."

Mulder glanced at his hands in amazement and returned to his task. One hand climbed his cock, slid down and repeated the motion. I watched his long, elegant fingers as they sensually worked his thick erection. It was getting to me. No question. I could feel his cock just as if it was my hand on it. I could imagine the taste. I swallowed heavily.

In spite of how hard he was, he was slow and patient with himself. He teased his cock with fingertips around the rim and on the tip. I was stunned by his composure. Mine was starting to erode.

"You have no idea how handsome you are. Your body is so lean and masculine."

He responded to my praise with just the slightest wilting of his bluish eyes.

I couldn't believe how badly I wanted him. Already I had half an erection. "I want to fuck you so badly."

His face got tighter and I noticed the motions of his hand sped up a bit.

I wanted him to talk to me, too, but I was afraid to break the spell, so I didn't ask for it. "Just watching you is making me hard again."

He closed his eyes and stroked harder. I was looking forward to his orgasm, when I looked down at my own organ and realized that I was hard enough. "Stop!"

Mulder eyes popped open. He took his hand off his erection and looked at me, alarmed. "What?"

"I'm going to fuck you," I said with a smile. I hadn't gotten it up again that fast in a long, long time.

"Now?" He looked at me and then my cock.

"Now." I gestured toward the sofa. "Sit and scoot your butt to the edge."

I knelt between his legs and rolled on a condom. Then I lubed up my fingers and my dick. A one-armed guy has to plan ahead. I smiled at him, thinking how good it was going to feel inside his ass.

I teased his anus with two fingers. I ran circles around it, and then massaged it with a gentle pinching motion. His body began to stir under me. So hot. I was only touching the slightest bit of him with the slightest bit of me, but he was squirming anyway. He bent his knees and pulled them up toward his shoulders. Then he slid his ass closer to me and spread his legs wider with a groan.

My cock throbbed from seeing Mulder offer himself to me. I watched his face. Tell me you want it, Fox, I said to him silently. Tell me! He just flushed under my gaze.

I entered him with one finger and moved it around to open him up a little. I didn't take my eyes off of his. Mulder's head was thrown back on the back of the sofa, his face showing delicious, satisfying torment.

I removed one finger and returned two. He was tight enough that I had to work them in. He twitched at a bit of pain, but then he relaxed again and I knew he was okay. I worked the fingers as deeply into him as my hand would allow, then brushed across his prostate. His breath paused for a moment, before starting again, rougher this time.

I scissored my fingers back and forth. I had to get him to three fingers, but two was tight. I was starting to wonder if I'd ever get my cock in him without hurting him more than I wanted to.

Mulder had made up his mind. "Fuck me," he moaned.

I took out two fingers and inserted three. He tightened on me. "C'mon, Mulder. You've got to relax."

His voice sounded testy. "It's hard to relax when I'm so fucking turned on, Alex."

Mulder saying my name gave me a rush. I had my three fingers in him all the way and I widened them a bit to open him up more.

He groaned.

"Hurting?"

"Yeah, but don't fucking stop."

"Try to relax."

"I'm trying," he said in a voice that was definitely not relaxed.

"I want to fuck you so badly." I pushed against the tightness. "Give it to me, Mulder."

I think he let go a little emotionally. Something in his face changed—like a barrier taken down. Suddenly there was a little more room. I fucked him hard with my fingers, stroking his prostate deliberately.

That got a reaction. "Oh, yessss."

I pulled my fingers out of him and put my cock head up to his anus. He squirmed at the feel of it and pressed himself toward me. I pushed in. Feeling the pain first, he jerked his ass back for a moment, but then he pushed back onto my cock. I took advantage of the opportunity to push most of the way into him, slowly.

Unmoving, for a moment, I was lost in the slippery, snug feel of Fox Mulder's ass.

"Oh, god."

"You okay?"

"I think so." He was barely breathing.

I just held there, looking down at the beautiful sight of him on my cock.

"God you're hung!" He didn't exactly sound enthusiastic, so I wondered if it was a complaint. I pushed into him the last inch.

"Fuck, yes," he rasped, easing my doubt.

I fucked him as gently as I could, loving the feel of his tight, hot, virgin ass on my cock. It made me smile deliriously.

Mulder began to relax more and enjoy my thrusts. I could still see flashes of pain in his eyes, but they passed quickly. Finally, I decided he was going to live through it and let myself go a little. I fucked him with some energy and put my hand on his cock and jerked it too.

He began to thrash around a bit, breathing very heavily and making little grunty sounds.

"You feel so good," I whispered to him.

"Yeah."

I fucked him harder, my balls slapping his ass. This was not my full-out fucking, but it wasn't gentle either. I did him for a long time, savoring every thrust. Even though I was jacking him off, he didn't seem to be moving along very fast either. Maybe I was still hurting him.

"You okay?"

"Oh, yessss. Well maybe. Sure... Don't stop."

I fucked him long and slow. Eventually, I could pull almost all the way out and push back in again without seeing his face contract in pain. I wanted to pull out all the way, but I didn't know if Mulder would survive reentry.

I knew when he got close to coming, because his hands started searching for something to hold on to. They gripped my shoulders before returning to his own knees. He was writhing under me and I was getting there, too.

Excitement made me give it to him even harder. He lost it completely and screamed in a husky voice, "Oh. Yes. Fuck. Me. Alllll-exxxx." His ass gripped my cock even tighter as he came. The sound of my name on his lips put me over the edge, too. I kept working his cock until he pried my fingers off of it.

I pulled out of him and sat beside him. My hand found one of his thighs and caressed it.

When I regained my capacity for thought, I realized that I should go. That's what he'd wanted the last time. I had to remind myself what this was. And what it wasn't. I braced myself to stand when he reached for me and pulled me into his arms.

He kissed me deeply, then released me. "That was great."

"It was," I replied, still unsure of myself with him.

"I jacked off about an hour before you came over. That's why it took me so long."

I smiled a little. "I'm glad." I wanted to know if he was thinking of me when he did himself, but I didn't ask.

He kissed me again. I got up and dressed. I kissed him on the forehead. I whispered in Russian to him, "Sweet dreams." I left him lying there.

On my way to the car, I imagined him jacking himself off earlier while he was thinking of me. I hoped it was true.


Chapter 4

Mulder

I was still sprawled on the couch after he left, remembering the feel of him inside me. Then I started to miss him. I wanted to touch him again. With a groan, I dragged myself to the bathroom. I cursed him halfheartedly for not warning me what my ass was going to feel like afterward.

Later, in front of the television, I got gloomy again. I desired a man who had participated in Scully's abduction. I didn't know if I could forgive myself for that. It seemed easier to forgive him. I felt like I was the one betraying her. Scully was my friend.

I tried to imagine what I'd tell her. I'd always thought I could tell her anything, but what would I say? How would I justify my actions to her?

My life started to change, even when he wasn't around. I was working at my desk a few days later and I thought of him. I wasn't aware that I was doing anything besides just remembering his voice telling me to jack off for him.

Scully's voice intruded. "What is it, Mulder?"

"Huh? Nothing."

"You have the most incredible smile on your face."

I froze. I tried REALLY HARD not to blush.

She got up and came to my desk. "Have you got a girlfriend or something?"

Or something, I thought, grimly.

"C'mon, Mulder. What is it?"

"Uh, Scully. I don't think I can talk about it. Okay?" I gave her my best be-nice-to-your-buddy-Mulder smile.

She backed off. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

She was probably a little hurt that there were things I wasn't telling her, but I knew she wouldn't hold it against me.

I tried to be more careful after that, because there was just no way I could explain Krycek. He'd hurt her badly. Abduction wasn't the sort of thing you have a sense of humor about.

I kept my cool for most of the day, but then she caught me again. This time she just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Wednesday night he visited me again. I was watching Marlene Dietrich in The Scarlet Empress when I heard a knock. It had to be Scully or Krycek. No one else would drop by after nine. The peephole answered my question. I was glad it was him.

I opened the door and kissed him right there. He shoved me inside and closed it quickly behind us.

We were both losing it fast, tongues roaming in our mouths like this would be the last sex of our lives. I pulled myself off of him to unbutton my shirt. He was already undressing himself.

"We've got to start wearing less clothes."

Alex grunted.

Naked, our clothes in a heap at the door, he started for the sofa.

"Bedroom," I called out, not wasting any breath on extra words.

We sprawled out on my fairly clean sheets. He patted my bare butt playfully. "How's your ass?"

I gave him my best lascivious grin. "Recovered." He was nibbling my eyebrows before I realized that my remark might be misinterpreted. "Well, not that recovered." He laughed and bit my neck. "I mean...You know what I mean." Alex was sucking on the skin right under my ear. "Well, you might have warned me what it was going to be like. Afterward."

Krycek laughed loudly in my ear. "I didn't want to scare you off." He kissed me again. "I know how to make it up to your ass."

"How?" I asked suspiciously.

"Trust me." He rolled me onto my back and began kissing my chest. Alex Krycek had just asked me to trust him. I groaned because of his hungry kisses and the sheer perversity of the situation.

Krycek's body and busy mouth headed south. Fast. He stopped to stick his tongue in my navel and gnaw around it. He reached my erection and gave it a few quick licks.

"Lift your legs."

"I'm not ready to do this again, Krycek," I said in a scolding voice.

"I understand, Mul-der," he scolded back.

Just trust him. Right. Shaking my head, I bent my knees and hugged them to my chest.

Krycek knelt on the floor leaning over my very exposed parts. He licked my balls and then took them inside his mouth. Next his hot mouth went lower. No one had ever licked my anus before. I'd never even imagined just how incredibly good that could feel. I squirmed a little and shifted my butt to give him better access.

His hot wet tongue felt both smooth and rough as he lapped at me. I was thinking that I could let him do this for a very long time when he pushed his tongue inside me. God, that skin was so sensitive. He fucked me with his tongue and then licked at the outside again and again.

I was unbelievably hard when I felt his hand on my thigh. His fingertips walked up my leg onto my groin and found my erection. He wrapped his hand around it and began stroking. Before my head starting spinning, I took a moment to admire his manual dexterity. Then I was coming. I was thrashing about so much I figured I'd crushed the skull between my legs. My semen spurted straight into the air then landed on my crotch and his hair.

He rescued his head from between my thighs and laughed at me. "You like that just a little don't you, Mulder?" And then he smacked my ass playfully. I liked that, too.

I felt like my brain had been turned inside out. He laid his face on my belly and just rested there. That was good. I stroked his sleek hair and relaxed into post orgasm lethargy.

After a few minutes, he pulled himself onto the bed and examined me. Apparently concluding I was still unfit for active duty, he found a position leaning against the wall and began to fondle his own cock.

That roused me out of my stupor and I reached for him. I replaced his hand with mine. The silky skin of his cock felt like the softest leather in my fingers. He lay back and let me do him, emerald eyes half closed.

I gave him a good long warm-up, then bent forward and swiped his shaft with my tongue.

He gave a delicious moan, so I did it again.

Then the doorbell rang. "Fuck!"

"Go ahead, Mulder," he groaned. "I'll keep."

"Let me at least see who it is."

I crept to the front door, trying not to let my footsteps send any vibrational clues to whoever waited outside. My eye found the peephole. Scully. Double fuck! Of course.

"I'm indecent. Give me a sec," I barked through the door.

I picked up the huge wad of clothes in front of the door, found my pants and put them on and tossed the rest into the bathroom. I opened the door and tried to look normal. "Hey, Scully."

She gave me a funny look. I realized that I was holding the door closed barring her entrance. So, reluctantly, I opened the door and let her in. I had a moment of panic thinking she could smell Krycek, before I talked myself down from that delusion.

"You okay, Mulder?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I fell asleep. I'm a little out of it." I felt bad lying to her. Krycek was a bad influence. Well, of course! It was almost funny.

"It's sci fi movie night. I thought you might want some company."

"Gosh, Scully. You know I'm kind of tired. I thought I might go to bed early."

I scrutinized her face; she knew I was lying. She gave me a curious look. Her eyes wandered around the apartment and landed on—oh, shit—Alex's basketball shoes, lying in the doorway to the kitchen where he'd thrown them.

She got a big smile on her face. "Do you have company, Mulder?"

"Uh, no." I couldn't think of what else to say.

"C'mon Mulder. Those aren't your shoes." She went closer to inspect them. "Let me guess. Hmm. Rather large." She turned to face me. "Kimi in Purchasing?"

Kimi was a gorgeous 220 lb Amazon. The thought of her in my bed was really too funny for words, but I was too tense to appreciate it just then. "No, Scully. Not Kimi."

Scully's mind was racing. "Agent Reyes?"

Another attractive big woman. At least she gave me credit for good taste. "No, Scully."

"Tell me!"

"No, Scully." I tried to say it more firmly this time.

She looked at me and leaned against the wall, still trying to puzzle out what I was hiding. "Agent... Hmm... McKenzie." But that was just a ploy. Before I could even answer, she darted into the hall toward my bedroom. Laughing.

I was caught off guard, but I still managed to grab her waist before she got more than three steps down the hall. I realized suddenly that I was squeezing her harder than I should have been.

She turned in my arms and looked at me in total amazement. "Just kidding, Mulder." She knew something wasn't right, but she tried to laugh it off. "If you'll release me, I'll be going."

I removed my hands from her waist.

"I'll leave you and Kimi to your own devices." She gave me one last smirk and she was gone.

I exhaled my relief and returned to the bedroom. Alex was curled up on the bed like a cat, his cock no longer hard. "Mmm. Sorry. I couldn't wait."

The thought of him jacking off in my bed while Scully and I wrestled in the hall was simultaneous extremely erotic and terrifying. I tried to shrug it off.

I combed through his hair with my fingers and sat on the bed next to him.

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled himself into my body. "I should go," he mumbled into my leg.

"Don't," I whispered before I could stop myself. I lay beside him and held onto him, thinking about Scully and my twisted life. I couldn't believe that I was using the warmth of his body to comfort myself. To comfort myself against the problems he had brought me.

I slept a little, badly, but enjoyed the feel of him next to me. It was odd to stir in the night and find him there. Part of my brain told me to jump out of bed and grab my gun. Another part just wanted to feel his sexy body curled around mine. I knew he was a dangerous criminal, but I also knew he'd never hurt me. Again. He had hurt me, but he'd never hurt me again. I was sure of it. Although I had to wonder what was left of his job that didn't involve hurting me. Then I realized that he was risking his life to be with me.

I felt small for a moment, having been so wrapped up in my own problems. But I was risking my career, my closest friend and my sanity for desiring the body of a killer. I patted his butt while he slept. Maybe we were even on the risk scale.

When I left for work the next morning, he was still asleep. It felt weird leaving him alone in my house, but I didn't really think he was going to steal my microwave. I kissed him lightly on a pillow-wrinkled cheek before I left.

He mumbled something I couldn't understand and went back to sleep.

Fuck, I kissed Alex Krycek good-bye before I left for work. Whose spirit had possessed my body?

I got to the office before Scully did. When she walked in, she gave me a sly grin. "Morning, Mulder."

"Hey, Scully." Just like every morning. Except. "How about lunch today?"

"Sure."

She didn't seem surprised when I escorted her to my car instead of the FBI cafeteria. I took her to Georgetown to a quiet, little Italian cafe. I wanted to get as far away from the office as possible.

We chatted about some cases until half way through the meal. I took a deep breath and told myself to get on with it. "Scully, I need to talk to you."

She nodded.

"You're right about what you guessed. I'm having a... an affair." I almost couldn't use that word, but I couldn't think of another one. Was I really having an affair with Krycek? God, that sounded so... serious.

She gave me the warmest smile. "I thought you were in love, the way—"

"I am NOT in love," I barked at her.

She froze, staring at me.

"It's just... sex," I hissed. I could feel my face redden.

"Okay, Mulder," a defensive tone in her voice...

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you." I looked at my linguini.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked gently.

I made myself meet her eyes before I spoke again. "It's... it's a man."

She relaxed a little, probably thinking she understood why I was being so touchy. "Oh. I'd wondered if you were gay." A gentle smile formed on her face.

I suppressed another angry outburst. She'd wondered if I was gay? I—me—the man in question—who just had his cherry popped by a wanted assassin—I had never really wondered if I was gay. I resumed eye contact with my pasta.

"So what's he like?" she continued.

I couldn't speak. What was I supposed to say? He kills people for a living. Gives a mean blowjob.

Then she asked the worst possible question. It hadn't even occurred to me that she'd ask it or I would have dreaded it all day. "Do I know him?"

I had to stop her before she started naming off every gay man at the Bureau. I held up a hand in a halt gesture. "I can't talk about this any more. At least not today." My voice was abnormally high-pitched. I suppose I was tense.

Scully was kind. "Okay, Mulder. Thanks for telling me." After a few minutes of silence, she started a conversation about cooking. It wasn't a hot topic for me, but I felt grateful.

I let her do most of the talking. I wasn't paying a lot of attention. I knew she thought I was in the midst of an awkward late-in-life coming out crisis. Well, it was an incredibly awkward coming out situation, but just not the one she thought.

She must be thinking that I was dealing with my own internalized homophobia. God, that would be a picnic compared to this. Maybe I was having a problem accepting myself, though. I was sexually involved with a criminal. They don't have support groups for that, do they? I tried to imagine a parade—like the gay pride parade—all these people with signs. 'My lover's immoral and I'm proud.'

As usual, I used work to evade my feelings. We drove back discussing another case.

Friday, after we finished a report, she invited me to dinner on Saturday. "I'll make burgers."

I didn't have any plans. "Sure. That sounds good."

"You can bring your lover."

I lost it for a moment and kind of coughed my way into a sick laugh. I'd imagined phoning up Alex. 'Dinner at Scully's, dear?' "Uh... I think he's busy." I'm certain she didn't believe me.

Late that afternoon, Agent Jameson and I were huddled around my computer trying to locate other murders that matched the pattern of a serial killer in the Midwest. I caught Scully looking at Jameson with an odd expression. Now that she called my attention to it, he was bent over rather close to me. This would be funny if it weren't so awful. I shook my head at her.

She winked and returned to her work.

I noticed Jameson's spicy cologne and the curve of his butt. He was handsome, in a bland sort of way. I took it all in and my cock said, 'thanks, but no thanks.' Maybe if he turned out to be a serial killer himself I'd want him, I thought gloomily.

She asked me to bring my "boyfriend" to dinner at least three more times before she gave up. Scully was always accepting of her difficult partner.

Krycek

Mulder went to Little Rock on a case. I knew this because I hacked into the Bureau travel agent. They send an email to your supervisor and assistant each time you change your travel plans. I just added my email address to the list, so it wasn't difficult to keep up with his travel arrangements.

I suppose if I'd been at his place at the right time he'd have just told me he was going.

I missed him. Still recovering from imaginary surgery on my arm, I didn't have much to do with my time, so I reread every book I owned. I worked out every day. I got another email from Mulder-travel. Coming home on Friday. Two more days.

I really missed him. It wasn't just sex. I wanted to see his smile. Touch his skin. Sit beside him on the sofa drinking a Coke. Surreptitiously check his hair for those little tufts that stood straight up.

Fuck, I was getting sentimental. Kill. Me. Now.

Thursday night I finally cracked and phoned his hotel. It was about 11 P.M. in Arkansas. I was a little nervous about calling him, but I wanted to hear his voice.

"Mulder."

"Hey, it's me."

"Hey." He didn't even ask how I knew where he was.

"Is it okay that I called?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking of you."

"Got your hand in your shorts?"

"Uh, no. It wasn't that kind of thinking. I told Scully I was seeing a man."

"But not who?"

"No." His voice sounded dismayed.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"No fucking kidding. I don't know how I could tell her that anyway."

I didn't reply.

"So, she thinks I'm coming out. Like a new gay man."

"She okay with that?"

"I think so. I'm sure she just wants me to be happy."

She might change her mind if she found out who he was happy with.

"You know, Alex..." He paused uncomfortably, so I was expecting him to tell me he didn't want to see me anymore. "Your voice is so... gravelly. It's very sexy."

Sweet. That alone was worth the call. "Thanks." My ears got hot. I felt like a high school boy. I haven't felt like this in a long time.

"It's good to hear from you."

Now I was really embarrassed. I didn't know what to say to him. "You gonna be home soon?" As if I didn't already know.

"Tomorrow night."

"Maybe I could come by on Saturday?"

"Yeah, that would be good."

"You better get some sleep. Night, F—" I couldn't say it. He'd never let me call him that. "Good night."

"Night."

Shit. I was falling hard.

Mulder

After he hung up, I lay in my hotel bed, just thinking. I was glad he called. I liked him. I liked Alex Krycek. We had a date. Saturday. It was the first time I'd ever had any idea when to expect him. The man had gotten under my defenses like a flu virus. It was scary.

On the flight back to D.C. I kept thinking about him. I was starting to see him through rose-colored classes. It creeped me out. It was almost... it was so... sucky.

The man was undeniably attractive. I'd never really noticed when I first met him; he was just a geek in a bad suit. But, now... Those eyes with thick black lashes. Cheekbones and jaw line like a pretty woman. But he was all man. I'd always thought of a five o'clock shadow as a nuisance, but on him it was so sexy. The casual way he stood in his leather jacket. The firm muscles of his chest seizing with orgasm. The rounded globes of his ass. His long, long legs. Calves shaped like a cyclist's. He was sheer pleasure to look at.

But the burning intensity of the man was the real turn on. He felt things so strongly. He worked hard to hide it, but I could see his passion. Even before we became lovers, he always ran hot. Everything about him was life or death, pain or pleasure, resist or serve. It made me crave him. I was drawn to his heat like a moth to a flame.

"Mulder?"

"Huh?"

Scully had her notebook PC opened on the little airplane lap table. "I said, 'Did you want to review my report?'"

"No. I'm sure it's fine, Scully."

"You're a million miles away. Thinking about your lover?"

I flushed.

"That's sweet."

I flushed more. I didn't know what to say.

"Don't be embarrassed, Mulder. It's great when a man allows himself to feel that way, instead of trying to be so macho all the time."

She sure knew how to rub it in. Scully looked at my chagrinned face and just laughed at me. "God, Mulder. You're a wreck."

"Maybe I'll look at that report. Just for something to do."

Scully rolled her eyes and passed me the PC.

I was even worse on Saturday. Since I knew he was coming I felt like I should get dressed up or something. It made no sense. Dressed up to Alex meant wearing a shirt with buttons. After my morning shower I chose a pair of my least grungy jeans and a pale blue Polo shirt my mother gave me. It's not a color I wear very often, but Scully said it made me look sexy. I fidgeted around the house all day. Fed the fish. Dribbled the basketball. Read a few back issues of the Lone Gunman.

I didn't know if Alex was coming for dinner, so I wasn't sure if I should eat without him. Then it occurred to me to call him and ask. But I had no way to contact him. Weird. I was fucking the man, but I didn't know his phone number. Or address. Or date of birth. Number of siblings. Home town. Blood type. Possibly not even his real name. I knew what he did for a living. Unfortunately.

We fucked almost every time he came over. Maybe that's why I hardly knew him. Perhaps we should stop doing the wild thing and get to know each other? Nah. Fucking was what we did best. Besides I knew I couldn't keep my hands off him. I rubbed my dick through my jeans. 'Hang in there, buddy.'

Krycek called around six. "Have you had dinner?"

"No."

"I'll bring it. See you in about an hour."

He brought Italian, not pizza, but a huge antipasto tray, a pan of spaghetti, a half dozen cannoli, a six-pack of imported beer and a six-pack of Coke. The beer was good. Alex drank the Coke.

"You don't drink very often."

"Nope."

"Any special reason?"

He paused before answering. "Sometimes people try to kill me. It's best to be alert."

Oh. I was sorry I asked. At least he wasn't an alcoholic.

"I'm sorry, Mulder. I know you don't like to be reminded of that."

"Are you carrying a gun?"

"Always," he replied patting his leather jacket over his heart.

"What else do you carry in that jacket?"

He shrugged it off his shoulders and passed it to me. Underneath the leather, Alex was wearing a green Henley. It made his eyes look extra green.

"Whoa. I must really rate. I get to look through the pockets of Alex Krycek's leather jacket?"

He gave me a dubious glance and reached for a second cannoli.

The inside left front pocket was customized with a pair of straps to keep his Glock tied down. Next to it, in a sheath built along the underarm seam was a knife. The blade was slim but very sharp. I tried not to wonder where these weapons had been.

Alex watched me with veiled interest.

The right front pocket held a fat wallet and a tiny cell phone. "May I have the number?"

"Sure," he replied and he recited the number, knowing that I'd remember it. He knew so much about me.

The wallet seemed too personal, so I set it aside.

In the outside pockets I found a handkerchief, a key ring attached to a Swiss Army Knife, three condoms and two bubble packs of lube. I held those out to him and said, "I stocked up. You don't have to carry these."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again.

Oh, shit. I just realized that I didn't know who else he was having sex with. I really didn't want to think about that. With women you could sort of assume you were the only one, but this was Alex Krycek. Faithfulness didn't seem all that likely.

I don't know what he saw on my face, but he put his hand on my thigh. "I'm not fucking anyone but you, Mulder."

"Me neither, Alex," I replied, although I figured he knew that already. Somehow.

He smiled and brushed his lips fleetingly across mine.

As I set the key ring aside, something caught my eye. Dangling from it was a one-inch piece of silver metal in the shape of a fox. I gaped at him.


Chapter 5

Mulder

He looked away, embarrassed. This was not any Krycek I knew.

My fingers caressed the metal. It was tangible proof that I was special to this man. I was shocked by his sentimentality.

I returned to the pockets and pulled out a half-eaten candy bar. Valrhona. "Chocolate?"

He nodded. "Try it, Mulder."

I unwrapped it and broke off a chunk. It looked like plain dark chocolate. As I was about to pop it into my mouth, Krycek held out his hand to stop me.

"No, no. You have clear your palate first." He went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water.

Dubious, I rinsed and swallowed a couple of times.

"Now, put it in your mouth, but don't chew it. Just let it dissolve."

I followed his instructions. I didn't taste much at first, but then it began to melt. It was not as sweet, but more complex than Hershey's or Ghirardelli's. Like the subtle flavor of different coffees. Chocolate for adults. "Nice."

Alex smiled at me. "Tell me when it's all melted, but don't swallow it."

When it was melted I held out my tongue to show him.

He leaned in and kissed me, sharing the flavor of the chocolate. The combined taste of Krycek and Valrhona was fantastic. I deepened the kiss and my hands wandered across his chest, fingers finding his nipples through his shirt.

Alex pulled me closer with his hand behind my neck and started kissing my face. His lips wandered to my ear. "You look so hot in that shirt, Mulder, with your dark hair. Your eyes look so blue."

I felt myself warm to his praise. It was easy to grasp that his beauty gave me aesthetic pleasure, but I'd never thought of myself that way.

We undressed quickly on the way to the bedroom. I went to lie down on the bed, but he stopped me. "You up for getting your ass fucked?"

Oh, was I. "Yeah," I replied, suddenly shy.

He retrieved the lube and a condom. Taking my hand, he escorted me to a low dresser at the back of my bedroom. "Bend over and brace yourself."

It was not easy for me to offer myself like that. Leaning over and spreading my legs for him felt so submissive. So vulnerable. I wanted it. I wanted to do it for him, but it embarrassed me, too. I closed my eyes and shivered, waiting for his response.

I heard a sigh and then his husky voice. "You look beautiful like that. The muscles in your back and the curve of your ass... Damn." Alex ran a line of kisses from the back of my neck all the way down to the top of my thighs. And then he nudged my crack with his nose. I felt his hot tongue on my anus and let out a groan.

"Ah, you like that, Mulder. And I like doing it to you. You melt just like that chocolate." He licked me more and fucked me with his tongue. God! That sensation... like a kiss, but all tingly.

"God, Alex. That feels so incredible."

His hand caressed my back as he rimmed me. Warm fingers navigated my waist to the front of my body and found my erection. I was already dripping pre-cum.

With a sigh, he withdrew his tongue. "Your cock is good to go. So's mine. Just looking at you makes me hard."

He gave my dick a few strokes before pulling away. While he put on the condom, I thought to lube myself up for him, but it was too much. The idea was so incredibly hot. I wanted to do it, while he watched me, but it was just too intense. I couldn't.

Soon Alex's fingers found my anus. He massaged it thoroughly from the outside, before slipping a finger inside me. Why did this feel so damned good? Surely nature didn't design the male rectum to be fucked by other males? Oh, hell. Who really cared anyway? Alex entered me with another finger, rubbing across my prostate and sending my mind into oblivion.

"So good, Alex."

"I got more for you."

"Do it."

Three fingers was still a stretch. It hurt at first, but then he hit the prostate and it didn't seem so painful any more.

"How you doing, Mulder?"

"Hurts a little, but feels wonderful at the same time."

"You have to let me know if you're not okay, 'cause I can't see your face."

"Yeah."

He opened me up and fucked me thoroughly with those fingers. I was close to coming already. Alex removed his fingers and I tried not to tense up. The head of his cock pressed up against my anus and pushed through. It was easier than before. It burned, but not too badly. He slid all the way in fairly quickly.

"Okay?" His voice was low, almost strained. So damned sexy.

"Do it. Fuck me, Alex."

His arm wrapped around the front of my chest and he began to thrust. Gentle at first, he added power gradually as he sensed that I was okay. I never thought being fucked would be an essential part of my sex life, but nothing felt so right and so hot as Alex's dick sliding in and out of me.

"Sweet, fucking ass," he whispered reverently.

Alex's hand dropped down to my abdomen and he stroked my belly while he fucked me. I could feel his balls slap my backside with each thrust. My ass was shaped by his hard-on, molded to his body.

Alex moved his hand to softly touch my cock.

"I'm not going to last long if you do that."

The fingers continued down the shaft and moved to my balls, just teasing. I could feel his pubic hair tickle my butt.

"Harder, Alex. Give it to me."

"You got it." He held on to the front of me and threw his body into mine. Each penetration felt like something new was opening up deeper inside me. His breath was getting shaky, so I knew he was close. His hand returned to my cock and began to jerk me off.

"Oh, god. Yes."

"'S good."

He brought me off first. I was shooting and making I don't know what-all kinds of noises. Alex kept right on fucking me until he started to moan and shake.

As soon as my orgasm slipped away I realized how stiff I was from holding myself in one position, but I held onto it just a little longer so Alex could finish. I could feel his cock throbbing in me. It felt so intimate. Like he belonged to me.

Finally, he groaned long and loud. Alex slid off me to the floor. I twisted around and sat down next to him, holding him.

Lips found my temple and kissed me there gently.

We sat quietly for a long time before he spoke. "Is there an initiation I gotta go through or some dragon I have to slay to earn the right to call you Fox?"

"I hate it, Alex."

He pulled a strand of hair out of my eyes. "How come?"

I turned away from him. It was something I didn't like to think about.

"I'm sorry. Let it go. I don't need to know."

"I just hate it."

"Okay." He held me close, but didn't try to make me look at him. "I'm sorry, Mulder."

I finally faced him again. "I want a beer."

We got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned up. I pulled on a pair of fresh boxers and tossed a pair to him. He pulled them on and reached for his shirt. "Don't." I ran my fingers down his chest. "I like to look at your body."

His eyes met mine, uncertain, but he tossed the shirt aside.

In the living room, I had another beer and Alex had another Coke. He sat on the floor in front of the sofa. I was perched on it, putting his belongings back into his jacket.

"Do you mind if I look inside your wallet?"

"No."

I was astonished by his trust.

Inside the wallet, I found almost six hundred dollars and two driver's licenses with identical photos of the man I knew as Alex Krycek. One read David Michael White of Alexandria. The other Joshua Alan Stephens of D.C. He also had a half dozen credit cards in the same pair of names.

"Is Alex Krycek your real name?"

"Yes." He wrapped his arm around my calf and leaned his head on my knee, contentedly staring into nothing. I wished that I could read his mind.

There were a few slips of paper. A receipt for dinner. A chit with phone numbers and some other numbers that were probably cues to remember ATM codes and the like. No photos.

"Do you have family?"

"Not really."

I stroked his sleek hair. It was short and prickly at the back of his neck.

I put his stuff back together and lay his jacket on the side of the couch. "Thank you for trusting me with that."

Alex nodded. Reaching for his jacket, he pulled out the chocolate. He fed me a piece and took one for himself.

We watched Jurassic Park on tape. Afterward, I rubbed his shoulders and whispered in his ear, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"No, but I'll let you suck me."

"You're too kind." I ruffled his hair with my fingers.

This time we used the bed. I pulled down the boxers and took his satiny cock in my mouth. I sucked him and kept sucking until he came in my throat. I swallowed like a pro and kept right on sucking until he growled and shoved me off his dick. He panted for a while before he returned the favor. I liked watching him suck me. Alex did it with fervor, as if my dick was a real treat. Afterward, he slowly licked me clean.

I found a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. We brushed our teeth together and pissed in front of each other. Ah, domestic life. But it was good.

On Monday at work I got a call from a medical examiner in Phoenix. He had been about to autopsy the victim of a hit and run accident, when the "patient" was awakened by the sound of the Striker Saw. Skinner rejected our travel plans, but I found another case in Tucson that was more to his liking: a haunted ranch. I was certain it was just some bored cowman's idea of a joke, but the boss signed off on that one. Twenty minutes at the site should be enough to dismiss the case as a hoax.

So on Wednesday, Scully and I flew to Arizona. While in Phoenix, I found out about another autopsy awakening in Boston. I booked tickets for us to Boston on Saturday, leaving the haunted ranch uninvestigated.

Monday morning in Boston, Skinner finally tracked us down. He was less than pleased. The Tucson rancher was a good friend of the Arizona Attorney General who called our boss to complain about our no show. At first I thought we were off the hook, since the A.D. sent another team to Tucson. Unfortunately, he sent us to Detroit to profile a performance artist who was dressing up like a moose and spray painting public property.

I hadn't even found one single piece of evidence on the autopsy wakeups. Scully was convinced that they were just pranks. The two M.E.s had gone to medical school together, so she was probably right.

Monday night in Boston I ate a dry room service roast beef sandwich lamenting the waste of our time. Tomorrow, we'd be on our way to Detroit to find the Moose Man. And people think this job is glamorous. It's not all flukemen and escaping parasitic twins.

The best thing I could find on TV was Mary Poppins, so I turned it off. Finishing my cold, limp French fries, I thought about Alex. Not that he's cold or limp.

I missed him. I wondered if he came to my apartment in my absence. Did he leave disappointed? Where did he go? Did he have an apartment in the city?

I finally picked up the cell phone and dialed his number.

"Yeah?" His voice sounded irritable.

"It's Mulder."

"Hi there." Alex's tone warmed instantly.

"I'm in Boston."

"Good case?"

"Nope. And it gets worse. I was a bad boy, so Papa Skinner's sending us to Detroit tomorrow."

"Too bad they got rid of corporal punishment. A good spanking would beat Detroit in July any day. In fact, the image of your bare ass laid over Skinner's lap is quite appealing."

"If I put my bare ass over your lap, would you spank me?"

"I'm getting hard, Mulder. We'd better stop this unless you're serious about phone sex."

"Well, we could... but the touching is the best part." I chewed on my lip. "Hey! Are you busy this week? Maybe you can meet me in Detroit?"

"What about Scully?"

"I'm not exactly on her A list right now. Why don't you just meet me at my hotel tomorrow night?"

"Okay."

Scully

My partner is a very handsome man, almost pretty even. He's intelligent and charming. If you overlook the fact that he's a one-man catalogue of neuroses, he's quite a catch.

I would never go to bed with a partner. But even if Mulder hadn't been my partner, I wouldn't have wanted him for a lover. He's a bit of a child. But I have to admit, it didn't stop me from being jealous around other women. Like Dr. Bambi, the cockroach expert. I was inappropriately pleased when she dumped him for the robotics guru. What Mulder and I have is very special and I treasure it.

When I found out that Mulder was seeing another man I was secretly delighted. Somehow I felt less likely to be replaced in his heart. On a prurient level, the idea of Mulder in bed with another man was rather... um... hot.

I couldn't stop myself from wondering what sort of man he was seeing. Was he seeing a pretty boy? Someone younger who looked up to him? A nerdy academic? A fashion model type? Some hulking macho man who made Mulder look delicate? A distinguished older gentleman? I just couldn't imagine.

Mulder wouldn't tell me anything and resisted all my attempts to get him to introduce me to his lover. He obviously wasn't ready to share. I had to respect his privacy. It didn't stop me from imagining him with half of the agents at the Bureau, John Byers and one of my uncles. I even laughed myself sick one day at Tower Records imagining Mulder with this effeminate twenty-year-old cashier with multiple facial piercings.

Whoever Mulder was having an affair with, he had to be a caring man because Mulder had become more easy-going and happier. He'd still brood at times, but the world seemed less out to get him. He said it was just sex, but whatever it was it was terribly good for him. Anyone who could lighten the heart of this troubled man was a friend of mine.

Skinner sent us to Detroit. The case was not an X-File. It was punishment, really, and I'd been included in the A.D.'s wrath, even though Mulder had committed the offense. I resented sharing Mulder's punishment and made sure he knew it. By Wednesday we were both miserable and barely talking to each other. I climbed into my hotel bed early, hoping we'd both wake up in better moods.

In the middle of the night, I woke to sounds of distress. I grabbed my gun and bolted for the door between our rooms. It was locked. Mulder never locked it. I heard another moan. Someone was injured behind that door. I opened it with one well-placed kick and found myself staring at something I couldn't comprehend for the longest minute of my life.

Alex Krycek's naked body. Standing. Moaning.

Left arm amputated and horribly scarred.

Mulder on his knees. Wearing only boxer shorts.

Green eyes wide with horror.

A generous erection sliding from Mulder's mouth.


Chapter 6

Scully

I blinked to try to make sense of it. My eyes bounced from butchered arm to Krycek's shocked expression to his dick in Mulder's face.

Krycek was the first to move. He whispered, "I'm sorry," to Mulder and disappeared into the bathroom.

Mulder stood slowly and sat in a chair, facing me, but not looking at me.

I was still putting the pieces together. By this time I'd ruled out every possibility except consensual sex.

"I should have told you," Mulder offered meekly.

I was forced to conclude the unbelievable. My voice was a screech. "Mulder, tell me you're not having an affair with Alex Krycek."

So desperately did I want to believe this wasn't the case that I'd have accepted any absurd story Mulder had offered. Surely his lover was a shape-changing alien playing a joke on him. Or Krycek was using mind-control to make Mulder submit to him. The hotel room was a virtual reality suite. Anything!

"I'm sorry, Scully." I could hear the shame in Mulder's voice. Just looking at him hurt.

My shock dissolved into outrage, which lasted only a moment. Then I felt the deepest shame for him. My tormented friend was lost in a sick relationship with that bastard. "I think you need help, Mulder."

He didn't reply, just gazed up at me sadly, like a hurt little boy.

When I got past my embarrassment for my partner, I wanted to shoot Krycek. "I should arrest him, you know."

"Yeah."

"You should have arrested him."

Mulder nodded silently. His passivity was alarming.

Then I remembered there was a window in my bathroom. "Is there a window-"

We both darted to the bathroom. Mulder got there first. It was empty. He stared out the window and pounded his fist on the window frame. Then he slowly turned and sat on the toilet seat. I thought he was going to cry.

I stood next to him and stroked his hair. "You're a handsome man. You could have almost anyone, Mulder."

His face was contorted in pain as he spoke. "I want him, Scully."

We didn't discuss it again on the trip and I avoided him for a few days afterward. It wasn't the first time that we'd had unresolved issues between us. But this was truly going to test our friendship.

Mulder

I didn't like seeing myself through Scully's eyes. I was just learning to accept my attraction to Alex, but when Scully caught me blowing him in Detroit it brought it all back up. I couldn't justify it to her. There was nothing I could say.

My biggest concern was actually Alex. I was afraid he'd bolt for good, but he called me the day after Scully and I returned from Detroit.

"Hey, it's me."

"Alex."

"Yeah."

I couldn't think what to say.

"Do you still want to see me?" I could hear tentativeness in his voice. We were both afraid of rejection.

"I want to see you. Nothing's changed."

"Don't kid yourself, Mulder. Everything has changed."

"I want to see you, Alex."

"I'm sorry. I didn't want that to happen."

"It's not your fault. I asked you to come to Detroit."

"But still... I don't want you to lose Scully. You need her."

"I know." I massaged my achy forehead with my fingers. "I need you, too, Alex."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

The next night I could see trepidation on his face as I let him in.

We sat on the couch and I held onto him like a barnacle. We didn't talk about it, but we didn't fuck either. He just stayed close to me. It was just what I needed. Well, what I really needed was Scully to forgive me or perhaps forget she'd ever met Alex. Where was a good mind wipe when you needed one?

I reached for the remote and turned on the TV. He curled up next to me and put his head on my shoulder, arm around me. I let him.

We watched part of some old movie and I fell asleep.

I woke up and found my head in his lap. I got to stare at him unnoticed for a minute. I'd never seen him unguarded. He was watching the fish in my aquarium. His green eyes were relaxed, thick eyelashes quivering. He was beautiful—a brilliant combination of manly visage with those pretty, pretty eyes.

Then he caught me. Ran his hand through my hair and petted me. That night, for the first time, we slept together without fucking.

By the middle of the following week, Scully finally cracked first and suggested lunch. We went to a hot dog stand near the capitol and sat on a bench at the playground.

"Mulder, we can't just let this fester between us."

"I know, Scully, but I don't know what to say." I munched on my hot dog for a while and finally asked, "Why don't you tell me what you're thinking?"

She had to be stressed to be eating a regular hot dog. Not even the lean turkey dog. "I'm angry that you're involved with this man who hurt us both so much."

"He's done some bad things, Scully. Your anger is justified. I was angry with him myself for a long time, too."

"How could you possibly get past that?"

"I wanted him... I wanted something warm in my life. And after a while I started to see him as a human being." She started to object, but I cut her off. "I'm not that much better a man than he is, Scully. You're a much better person, but not me. I beat him up—more than just the time you were there. I beat him because I wanted him and because I didn't want to face it. And hitting him never made it go away."

"That's sick, Mulder."

"Fine. It's sick. I accept that. I like the way he looks at me when he touches me. I need that."

She put her hand on my thigh. "You deserve affection, Mulder, but-"

She was patronizing me. I pushed her hand away. "Don't."

We were both quiet for a long time.

Scully finished her hot dog. "You should see someone, Mulder. Please, would you talk to a counselor?"

"The first time we... I was with him I told him that my life was better without him in it. I was wrong. It's better with him. I'm calmer, even happy sometimes." I met her eyes to fight her denial. "You saw it, Scully. You thought it was a good thing before you knew who it was."

She didn't want to admit it, but she finally gave in with a curt nod.

"His life is better with me, too. He's trying to get out—to stop doing what he does."

"And you believe him, Mulder? I don't want you to get hurt the next time he betrays you."

I bit my lip. "I know it sounds like he's taking me for a ride, but I trust him. He's not going to hurt me if he can help it."

"If he can help it? Mulder, he's a sociopath."

"No, Scully. He's many things, some of them immoral, but he's no sociopath."

"He should be in prison."

"Maybe, but I won't turn him in."

"Mulder, you could lose your job over that."

I heard my voice rise. I didn't like to yell at her, but she had to understand. "I don't care, Scully. You do what you have to, but I'm not going to arrest him. And I'm not going to lead you to him."

"Mulder, I'm worried about you, not about arresting criminals."

"I know, but it's my life."

"I don't know if I can ever accept this."

"I can't expect you to accept us. I'm not sure we deserve it, but I still want your acceptance. You're my partner and my friend. I need you, Scully."

"I want to be your friend, but sometimes it's difficult."

On the walk back, I fought with myself over bringing up one last topic. But I had to ask. "Scully, is it... is it safe for me to see him at my apartment?"

"What do you mean, safe?"

"I mean are you going to send someone from the Bureau to arrest him?"

She didn't answer until we were almost at the doors of Hoover. "No, Mulder. I'm going to try to pretend that I don't even know about you and him."

"Thanks." It wasn't acceptance, but she'd given me something.

Scully

No one can place demands on a friendship like Mulder. I'd never worried for him more, but I had to let go, because anything else would have been wrong. Over time I came to make myself believe that he was just seeing someone and I tried not to think about Alex Krycek.

One day I was going through the X-Files and I came across Krycek's file. I opened it and examined the photos. There were two. The first his bureau ID, which showed a fresh faced kid. Hard to believe that he wasn't an innocent then. The second photo was taken at the militia bust. Mulder was looming over a handcuffed Krycek. I looked at the picture for a long, long time and finally decided that they did look right together, somehow.

I remembered the sparks that seemed to fly between them that day. Krycek stood too close. Mulder always took Krycek's bait. He couldn't keep his hands off the assassin. I should have realized at the time what it meant.

There was distance between Mulder and me for some time. It's difficult to work closely as partners without connecting, so we gradually grew together again. In fact, he was still the most intelligent, intuitive, infuriating man I'd ever known. He wormed his way right back into my heart and soon I was his buddy Scully again.

One night we were at his apartment finishing up case reports when I heard two taps on Mulder's front door. Next I heard a key in the lock. I grabbed for my gun, but Mulder held my arm down.

"It's Alex."

I reached for the files and started to pack my briefcase.

The door opened and in walked Krycek, with a smile on his face. Until he saw me. "Oh," he said stupidly.

"Don't worry. I'm leaving, Krycek."

He held up his palm in a halt gesture. "No, I'll go."

"Stop!" cried Mulder. "Can't you two just pretend that you can stand the sight of each other? Scully, we're not done with these reports. Why don't we just finish them? Alex, we'll only be maybe half an hour. Could you take a shower or something? Please."

We both looked at Mulder, and then glanced at each other. Without a word, we agreed to a brief truce.

Krycek stood at the door for a long time. After a while, he ventured over to Mulder, kissed him on the cheek, and retreated silently into the bedroom.

I managed to get my focus back on the reports, which we completed in under an hour.

Mulder walked me to my car and gave me a hug. "Thank you, Scully."

I'd saved his life without getting a thank you, so I guess it meant a lot to him. It wasn't much to give; I could live with it.

Mulder

My mom called.

"Fox, I'm driving to New York on Friday to go shopping. I thought you could meet me there on Saturday."

I was confused. We didn't go shopping together and the woman came to D.C. without seeing me. "Why, Mom?"

"I found some more things of your father's. I've got a couple of boxes in the trunk of the car."

"Why don't you just ship them?"

"Fox, don't you want to see your mother?"

"Of course, Mom." I did, didn't I? "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Bloomie's. The restaurant on the fourth floor. 11:30."

It would have been easier to fly, but then I'd have to ship the damned boxes, so I drove up Friday night. I got to Bloomingdale's at eleven and had a valet take the car, because there was just nothing else to do with it. The parking fee would have covered my airfare.

No sign of her in the cafÈ, so I took a table, ordered coffee for me and iced tea with extra lemon for her. At around 11:45 she appeared, toting three large shopping bags. I relieved her of the bags, kissed her on the cheek and then gave her a hug. She hadn't spoken a word yet, but I already felt grim.

My perfectly coifed mother slid off her coat revealing an ice blue designer dress. She was an attractive older woman. It seemed odd to me that, to my knowledge, she'd never dated once in the twenty plus years since my parents' divorce.

As usual, we didn't talk much. Mom told me a little about her volunteer work. Helping the needy in Greenwich was such a joke. There were scant poor people there; the busboys and maids were all white high school students. I imagined her efforts going to help an unwed mother buy her baby clothes at Macy's instead of Wal-mart.

"So how is your work, Fox?"

She didn't really want to know. "Oh, you know. Same old, same old. A woman with psychic powers made me try to shoot my partner. I put a stake through the heart of a boy vampire, but he got away anyhow."

"You don't need to be so sarcastic all the time."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

She sipped her tea and then used a tissue to touch up her lipstick. "So how is your lovely partner?"

"Scully's doing okay. She's had a terrible year, with cancer and the death of her... someone she cared about, but she's a strong woman. The cancer is in remission. She seems to be enjoying life again."

"That's nice," Mom replied, her eyes flicking to a gaudily dressed older woman at a nearby table. I could just imagine her treatise on the woman's lack of taste, but she said nothing.

"Are you seeing anyone, Fox?"

"Uh... No."

"You're not the easiest man to get along with. Perhaps if you'd try a little harder?"

'I love you, too, Mom,' I thought silently. I sat and nodded while she reviewed the litany of my interpersonal failings.

After lunch, the valets retrieved both of our cars. I unloaded the cartons from Mom's trunk before she sent her car back.

"Take care, Mom." I hugged her again and realized it was like hugging a corpse. Her body seemed more fragile with the years, but that wasn't it. She didn't hug me; she permitted me to hug her.

"Good bye, Fox."

I couldn't wait to get out of New York. I drove fast and didn't stop for gas until south of Philadelphia. After refilling the tank, I pulled the car behind the gas station and opened the trunk. One carton contained mostly papers. A quick survey revealed fascinating gems like a 1967 utility bill for the Martha's Vineyard house, a European postcard to my father from his now-deceased mother—'wish you were here,' the user's guide for a Panasonic 8-track tape player, the "Pocket Guide for Mixed Cocktails," and an "I like Ike," campaign button. The second box was filled with college textbooks from the 1950's. I flipped through each of them, hoping for hidden documents to fall out. Perhaps he had tucked the Rosetta Stone of alien life on earth between the pages of "Introduction to Electromagnetism." But no, except for a musty smell, the books were devoid of anything besides their original content.

I was tempted to haul the boxes directly to the dumpster behind me, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. There must be something in them. I couldn't have driven all this way just for my mother's lecture on getting along with others. I'd go through them again when I got home.

But it was my mother's modus operandi to drag me all this way for her convenience. That the 'bait' turned out to be useless wouldn't concern her in the least.

I finished the drive back thinking about my Dad. He'd known so much. He could have shared it with me—and yet he had nothing to say about any of it until the day he died. I wondered what he would have told me if he hadn't been shot. Probably nothing useful. But Krycek had taken that small hope away from me. If there's any kind of existence after death, I wondered if my father knew I'd had sex with the man who'd taken his life.

When I almost died on the Indian reservation, I had a vision of my father. I could imagine it would happen again and he'd berate me for my affair with Alex. It would be just like the man to attack me for the only spot of happiness in my miserable life.

Teena Mulder. Bill Mulder. Alex Krycek. Since Samantha had disappeared, only one of them had shown me any real affection.

Krycek

I saw Mulder two or three times a week when I was in D.C. I'd managed to largely avoid my regular employment, but there were a few assignments I'd already committed to and couldn't delay any longer. I had to leave town a few times, and the country once, to handle some things. I tried hard to stay away from anyone who knew Mulder, or might ever have anything to do with him or his work.

I was in deep emotionally. I could no longer pretend otherwise. I knew that the two of us together was a very bad idea, but I'm not a robot. I couldn't just use my intellect to make my body walk away. My longing for him was too deep.

The sex was so damned good. I could fuck him forever.

Now I had a key to his apartment. And some crazy desire to be around him even when my cock wasn't hard. Just doing nothing with him was good.

I'd never felt this way about anyone. I never expected to. In fact, I'd designed my entire life around the idea that I'd never care for anyone. Now that life seemed all wrong. Agonizingly wrong.

I had business in Richmond one night. My contact tried to hold back on the information we'd paid him to provide. During the transaction, unexpectedly, I got blood all over my shirt. I was pissed off about it too, because I'd been planning on going directly to Mulder's afterward. I was headed back to my apartment to change, when I passed the mall. I wanted to replace my Swiss Army Knife, so I parked in a dark spot near Eddie Bauer. I stripped down to my T-shirt, which had less blood on it and put on my leather jacket to conceal it.

As I walked into the store, I caught myself feeling guilty. This was not part of my normal emotional repertoire—if you can call any of my feelings normal. I reassured myself that the owner of the blood wasn't anyone who Mulder would ever encounter. I hadn't even killed the guy, although I would have if I'd needed to.

I paid for a new pocketknife, a black shirt and a white T, putting the clothes on in the dressing room. On the way to my car, I deposited the bloody ones in a trashcan.

Mulder greeted me with a distracted smile. We no longer felt the need to rut constantly, so he sat on the sofa surrounded by files and I sat as close as I could get, reading his battered copy of "Dune."

I let him finish his work unmolested, but as soon as the files were put away, I reached for him. He kissed me and I drew his body onto my lap. Mulder gnawed on my jaw a little and started working on the buttons of my shirt.

He pulled a price tag out of the inside, still attached to the button. "New shirt?" He grinned at me like I was a dork.

"I wanted to look good for you," I replied and regretted the lie instantly. I didn't even have to say anything. I promised myself I wouldn't do that again—for both of our sakes.

He nuzzled my neck. "You do look good. Taste good too."

I had nearly forgotten my lie, when he got the shirt off of me. He slid onto the floor, running his hands down my leg. My cock was responding to his touch.

Suddenly he froze.

"What is it, Mulder?"

He stood up, shakily and backed away as if I was carrying the plague. I stared uncomprehending as he examined his fingers.

His voice turned Arctic when he spoke. "Stand up." I recognized the distinct cadence of lawman speaking to perp.

My whole body went tense, but I stood.

"Turn around."

I turned, hoping I wasn't about to be arrested and wondering what the hell I had done.

"You fucking bastard."

I spun back to face him, my voice pleading. "What, Mulder? I don't know what you're talking about."

"There's blood on your pants, you miserable excuse for a criminal." His face twisted into a scowl. "'I wanted to look good for you.'" he mimicked scornfully. His blood was pumping. I could feel his nervous energy.

I felt a horrible sinking sensation. "Mulder, I'm sorry..." I waited for his fists.

"Get out, Krycek." He turned away as if he couldn't bear to look at me. "Take what's left of that fucking crime scene and your goddamned ass out of here."

I reached for my shirt and walked out, grateful he wasn't looking at me, because I knew I wouldn't be able to meet his eyes.


Chapter 7

Mulder

I wasn't sure he'd ever come back after that night. And that scared me. But he did return. A few nights later. Friday night.

I let him in, not sure where I wanted this to go. He helped himself to a place on the sofa. "Can we just talk, Mulder?" I could hear the tension in his voice.

"Okay," I said noncommittally. I joined him on the sofa, at a safe distance.

He turned to face me. "You know what I do..."

"Yeah, I fucking well know."

"You've known for a long time," he said tentatively.

I nodded.

"It didn't stop you from wanting to have sex with me, did it?"

"No. It should have, but it didn't." I resented him making me say it. I gave him a nasty smile. "Are you're complaining about how I've treated you?"

Krycek looked down. "I guess maybe I don't deserve any better."

"No, you don't," I replied. It felt good to say that.

"Then tell me to leave. Forever." He looked at me with sad eyes. "I'll do it if it's what you want."

And suddenly I knew I didn't want him to go and that only made me angrier. "Goddamn you, Krycek."

I reached for him. My hand behind his neck, I pulled us into a kiss. It was hot with my anger and his—I didn't know what he was feeling—fear? Self-loathing?

I unbuttoned his shirt and kissed him on the neck. He was looking at me like he was numb. We'd done this before. Turned our conflict into sex. It was exactly what I needed. I removed his shirt and bit his neck. My lips worked down to his pecs and I bit him there. Hard.

"Stop it, Mulder."

But my erection was calling. I was angry, but I wanted him. Now. Not later. I bit his lean stomach and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans.

"Stop it!" His voice was hard and loud.

With a jerk, I undid the rest of the buttons on his jeans and reached into his pants. He yanked himself away from me, and stood up.

"I can't do this anymore. We have to finish it."

Bastard. "What? What do you want, Krycek?"

He bit his lip and rubbed his bad shoulder with his hand, in a gesture I recognized as giving himself courage. "Ask me what you didn't ask me before."

"What?"

"The question you never got around to the night you interrogated me. You know exactly what I mean. Ask me!" He was yelling louder than I was.

But I was madder. I stood up and faced him. "No, Krycek. You don't want me to ask that." I felt the surge of rising blood pressure in my body.

"Just fucking ask me!"

He didn't flinch as I stormed up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders. He held his face still. I was two inches away. "All right, you bastard." I'd already lost control, but I tried to regain it a little. "Did. You. Kill. My father?"

He didn't blink. "Yes, I killed Bill Mulder," Alex confessed in a quiet voice.

He didn't apologize or ask my forgiveness.

I threw him on the ground. I kicked him in the ribs. It felt so good to let go. For years I beat this man to hide my sexual attraction; lately I'd been fucking him to hide my rage.

I dropped down on him and punched him in the stomach. I punched him in the face. I kneed him in the groin. I released all my pent up feelings about my father: Losing him. Losing Samantha. Losing both my parents in their grief over Samantha. Blaming myself. Her wishing they'd taken me instead. Him looking at me like it was my fault Sam was gone. It felt so damned good to just let these feelings out. I kept hitting him until my anger began to dissipate. Then I shoved him away from me so I didn't have to look at his bloody body.

My knuckles were split. One of my sleeves was spattered with his blood. My breath was out of control. I reached for him again. He recoiled away from me into the corner. I felt another surge of anger.

I rolled toward him and reached out for his arm. I meant to hurt him, but I saw a flash of fear in those green eyes. It reminded me of my own fear.

I touched Alex's hand lightly to reassure myself that he was alive. It was warm. I stroked it tentatively with my fingers.

I heard a sound. A choke or a sob. I looked up at him. He was half crying with a wet cough. But he regained control of his breathing. When he spoke his voice was low and determined. "If you're not through... If you're ever going to hate me again, do it now. Get it over with." He bit back another sob. "Kill me if you have to, but... finish it. You fucking finish it."

I scooted over to him. He didn't try to get away this time. I held my face close to his and stroked him softly. I was in a daze. I don't know how long I sat there. I used my shirtsleeves to wipe the blood off his face. I was as gentle as I could be, but I could tell that it hurt him anyway.

I noticed that blood was still seeping from his nose. I thought idly that it was probably broken. Then I saw the way he was holding his torso. My rational mind broke through. He needed medical care.

I jumped up and found the phone. 911. "I need an ambulance." I gave them the address. "Abdominal injuries from a beating."

I grabbed a clean towel from the kitchen. I put the towel to his nose and had him hold it there. I looked at his chest, which was bloody from a cut over his right nipple. Under the blood I could see that his chest was red and bruising fast.

I got another towel and tried to mop at his chest, but he wouldn't let me. I continued to survey him. His arm looked okay. I'm glad I hadn't broken it; he'd have been completely helpless. His stump was bloody. That must have hurt badly. I wanted to wipe it clean, but I was afraid I'd just hurt him more.

We sat together quietly for a long time.

Then there was pounding on the door. A deep male voice, "Ambulance."

I ran and threw the door open. The EMT took one look at Alex and back at me. He knew I'd done this. Before I could even react, the medic was on the floor next to him.

A second man arrived with a gurney.

I followed them down to the front of my building and to the ambulance doors. They tucked him safely inside. I tried to enter, but the first man stopped me with a hand on my chest. "No," he said in a firm voice.

"Let him in," Alex barked at them.

The EMT looked at me like I was pond scum. I'd given many perps that look myself. The I'm-better-than-you look. But he allowed me inside.

I knelt by the gurney and held Alex's hand as the EMT kept ruthless watch over us.

They wouldn't let me in the emergency room, even after I showed my badge. I watched through the little window in the door. I could see that Alex was in a lot of pain. They seemed concerned about him and kept poking his chest and his abdomen.

Soon, the doors opened, but he wasn't even cleaned up. They hadn't fixed his nose. They were wheeling him out, ignoring me, but a young doctor or nurse saw the panicked look on my face. "He's going to surgery," she said.

I felt a tug on my arm and looked up into the face of a male nurse. "I need to get some information about the patient." He pulled me over to a desk and sat me down. He pulled out a clipboard with a long form on it. "What's his name?"

Oh, shit. "David. Uh, David... White."

"Address?"

I gave mine.

"Date of birth?"

"I don't know." I was numbing out again.

"Does he have health insurance?"

"I doubt it."

"Do you know anything about his medical history?"

"No. Except his arm. His left arm was... amputated." Like they couldn't figure that out themselves...

He made a note. "Do you know where he works?"

"Uh... He's between jobs right now."

"Occupation?"

"Computer programmer."

He finished with me and I found the surgical wing. At the patient information desk, they told me it would be at least an hour before they had any news.

I sat on a bench and phoned Scully.

"Scully."

"It's me."

"Hi, Mulder." Her cheerful tone seemed abrasive.

"I'm at the hospital."

Worry fell into her voice. "Are you okay?"

"It's Alex."

"What happened?"

I hesitated. "He got hurt. He's in surgery."

"Do you want some company?"

"Yeah. I'm in the surgical ward at George Washington."

She arrived about an hour later. She sat next to me and gave me a hug. "Is he okay?"

"He'll live." God, at least I'd assumed he would. "He was conscious when they took him to surgery."

"Your hands, your shirt, Mulder. Were you in a fight?" The gentle way she said it made me think she meant Alex and me fighting together against someone else.

I felt my eyes get wet. "I beat him up, Scully."

She swallowed hard. "Well... you've done that before." I watched her eyes look at my guilty face, flick to the door of the surgical suite and back again.

"No. Not like before. I completely lost it. I couldn't stop. I just kept hitting him."

"Why, Mulder? I thought you cared for him."

"He killed my father. He admitted it."

Scully's face tightened into a grimace. "I'm sorry, Mulder."

I had to tell her the rest. "He didn't even defend himself. He just let me beat him until he could barely move." I couldn't hold back the tears. She put her arms around me and I cried and cried.

In my head I just kept seeing him lying on the floor, bloody and hurt. I couldn't believe that I'd wanted to hurt him, but I had. My father's death didn't seem important anymore.

Scully misunderstood. "You must be very angry and hurt."

I shook my head, but I couldn't explain.

She sat with me for a long time. They wouldn't let me see him in the recovery room. I sent her home at 1 A.M. One of us had to sleep. Around 7 A.M. they moved him into a ward and told me I could see him.

He was woozy, but awake when I walked in. "You okay?" Alex asked, obviously with genuine concern about my welfare.

I just gaped at him. One of his eyes was black and red. His nose has a bulky bandage on it. He had an IV dangling from a very bruised arm. I couldn't see his chest. And he's asking me if I'm okay? I just shook my head.

"Don't do the guilt thing, Mulder." He shook his head at me. "Please."

I sat down on the edge of his bed. He took my hand and held it lightly. Tears welled up again.

"Mulder, please. I'm not... There are corpses out there who would gladly take this beating instead of what I did to them."

I examined his hurt face. How could I feel this way about a killer?

He continued and tried to make his voice sound hard. "And don't think I shed any tears for them."

But I had so many feelings I didn't want to feel for him. He was my dark twin. Until last night, when we traded places.

"I'm a thug, Mulder. I don't deserve this."

I forced back my tears, because I knew he needed me. "Shhh, Alex." I lay down next to him and took him into my arms as gently as I could.

I didn't get up until I heard a throat clearing from the doorway. "Excuse me, gentlemen." The queeniest male nurse sashayed in. "And how are you this morning," he said looking at Alex's chart, "David?"

Alex chuckled, then groaned and grabbed his stomach. "Shit," I heard him growl under his breath. I knew he was going to be okay.

I sat in his room all morning while he slept. I thought about what he'd said. He was a thug. I succeeded in pounding down my guilt to a manageable level, but I doubted that I would ever forgive myself.

I tried to read his chart, but couldn't decipher much of it. At the nurses' station, the effeminate nurse told me he had two broken ribs and some internal bleeding. Surprisingly, his nose wasn't broken. They'd patched him up and he'd probably go home in a couple of days. I phoned Scully and told her, just for something to do. I doubted that she was paralyzed with anxiety about the state of Alex's health.

I fidgeted around his room all day, not wanting to leave him alone. I fed him water. I read him articles from a magazine. I regaled him with facts about manatees from a Discovery Channel program. I watched him sleep. I paced the floor to save my body from chair torture. I rolled up my sleeves and washed my face. At last, after midnight, I fell asleep in the unoccupied bed next to his. I still got up every hour or so to make sure he was all right.

Alex was fine. They offered him painkillers, which he refused. He couldn't move much and the stump of his arm seemed to bother him. He told me to go home and get some sleep, but I couldn't.

On Sunday, mid morning, a policeman arrived. Alex blanched at the sight of the uniform, but he composed his face quickly.

"David White?" the cop asked.

I hoped Alex didn't have fingerprints on file. Then I realized that I knew he did. I'd registered them myself. 'Armed and dangerous.'

"I'm Officer Wolfe." He nodded at me. "You the man who brought him to the hospital?"

I knew it was a trick question. "Yes. Fox Mulder."

His voice contained the accusation. "I need you to step outside while I talk to Mr. White."

"No," Alex interjected in a tone that left no room for doubt. "I won't talk to you unless he stays."

Officer Wolfe eyed Alex with patronizing pity. He helped himself to the chair I'd been avoiding. "All right, Mr. White. Do you want to tell me what happened to you?" He kept an eye on me, perhaps expecting me to bolt.

I started to jump in. "I... let me explain." I had no idea what I was going to say.

"Shut up, Mulder," Alex said in a command voice.

I did.

Alex turned to the policeman. "Mulder and I were walking in the alley behind his apartment building. We were jumped by two men." He paused to give himself more time to make up details. I could see the wheels of deceit turning in his head. "Mulder, having two arms, faired a lot better than I did in the fight. Finally the men ran away and Mulder carried me up to his apartment."

The cop didn't believe it for a minute. "Nice story. You want to tell me what really happened?" He glanced at me, before glaring at Alex.

"I just did," Alex said and stared him down.

The cop lost the staring contest. "I don't suppose there would be any point in getting a description of the two men."

"It was dark." Alex was still staring at him, starting to make the cop tense.

He turned to me. "You have anything to add to that story?"

I wanted to tell the policeman the truth to unburden my guilt. Easy to see why Alex was the criminal and I was not. But I knew my confession wasn't going to improve our situation. And Alex didn't want to hear it. "No."

"Any objections to my taking your finger prints?"

I was utterly relieved that he hadn't asked Alex. I showed him my badge. "Take my badge number. They're on file."

He raised an eyebrow and wrote down the number. "I just want to make sure that there aren't any other battered men with your name on them."

And then Alex, who hadn't made a peep about any pain in the 24 hours he'd been there, offered forth with a pitiful moan. "Mulder, would you ask the nurse for more medication?"

"Sure." I glared at the cop who was blocking my path. He turned around and departed. I walked to the nurses' station and told the queenie one that Alex was feeling much better.

A doctor came by in the afternoon and pronounced David White fit to go home tomorrow. Afterward, I sat on the bed. "I'd like to take you back to my place. Do you have somewhere you'd rather go?"

"No."

"Is there someone else to take care of you? Someone I should call?"

"No."

"Family?"

"No, dammit!"

"I'm sorry. I just want... I..." I trailed off and started again, "Will you let me take care of you?"

"As long as I don't have to eat your cooking."

I left voicemail for Skinner indicating that I would be out for a couple of days to take care of a sick friend.

I took Alex home and tried to do everything for him. I fed him (take out), changed his bandages, took him for walks (scenic tours of my apartment building) and entertained him (porn and sci fi videos). I'd have bathed him, too, but he wouldn't let me. I'd never cared for anyone like that. It was perverse, since I'd been the one to beat him up, but still it felt good to care for another human being.

After two days, Alex couldn't stand it anymore and insisted that I go to work on Wednesday. I made sure he had leftovers for lunch and headed to the Bureau. I called him six times during the day, but he was fine.

By the weekend, he was getting around pretty well on his own. I relaxed my attentions. He woke me up Sunday morning around 9 A.M.

"Mulder, wake up."

I was alert in an instant. "What do you need, Alex?"


Chapter 8

Mulder

I felt his hand on my chest. "Sex."

I laughed at him. "How do you do that with broken ribs?"

"That's why I woke you up. You're going to have to give me a blow job."

"Well, I suppose if I have to..."

So I did. I propped him up with pillows so he could sit comfortably and put another pillow against his chest, to remind him not to move it. Then I gave him the first serious kiss in over a week. God, I'd missed the taste of his mouth.

I was somewhat amazed that he'd let me touch him intimately after what happened, but our relationship had always been filled with contradictions.

As I slid between his legs, I remembered something else I'd missed having in my mouth. I cupped his balls with my hand, just holding them in a gentle squeeze and went to work circling my tongue around the base of his cock.

After I got him moaning, I lapped at his big beautiful cock. I felt free. Oddly, for the first time, I felt truly free to enjoy his body and my own. It didn't occur to me until later what freedom I'd found—freedom from my own pent-up rage.

I nibbled the head of his cock as it pulsed in my mouth. I loved doing that to him. He was generally a stoic man, but when I did that he responded with a litany of sexy moans and assorted sounds of appreciation. After I'd tormented him for a while I took all of him into my mouth. I was still gagging now and then, but not too much. I liked the feel of him in my throat—this thick super-sensitive cock inside me. Each tiny movement I gave made him fall apart.

Alex called out, "Oh, yeah," as he started to come.

His cock spasmed in my mouth and he hugged the pillow to his chest, trying not to move.

As he came back down to earth, I toyed with his balls. "What are you going to do for me, Alex?"

"Look at you real hard?" he quipped. There was a lightness in him that I'd never seen before. Something inside him had changed too.

"That would probably do it." I pulled the pillow off the front of him and lay down next to him. "Think you can jack me off?"

He slid down so he was lying with his head on my chest. His hand reached for my dick. He talked to me while stroking my cock. "When I'm feeling stronger, I'm going to fuck you again. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Mmmm."

"I have a fantasy. I find you in your office after hours. You've been there working since the wee hours of the morning."

He scooted his head down onto my belly and gave the tip of my cock a swipe with his tongue.

"Oooh."

"When I find you there, you're a little sweaty in your suit. I mean you still look good—very, very good—but you're a little wilted. Your hideous tie is askew. You smell just a bit more than usual—a little... raunchy."

The feel of his hand on my cock was so satisfying. Not my hand. Not anyone else's hand. Alex's hand. He was touching me again.

"Mmmm."

"So I enter your office and lock the door behind me. You don't even look up, so intent you are in your work."

He licked his thumb and ran it along the rim of my cock.

"So good, Alex."

"I manage to take off my clothes and you still haven't noticed me. I sit my bare ass in Scully's chair and start rolling it over toward you."

He gave my cock another few flicks of his tongue.

I growled my praise.

"I get the chair right next to you before you look up, but you're talking, 'So Scully what-' Then you just stop, gaping at me."

He starts jerking me harder, because he knows I'm getting close.

"Yessss."

"I'd better pick up the pace. Then I undress you, bend you over your desk and fuck your tight little ass."

He's timed it so I come at the end of the short tale, shooting all over my chest and his face. After a brief recovery period, I did something I'd imagined, but had always been too embarrassed to do in front of him. I licked my cum off his face.

His nasty grin assured me that he loved it as much as I did.

Afterward, I hauled him off to the shower. I was in an impossibly good mood all day. It wasn't just the sex. He trusted me to care for him. Alex was mine again.

Monday morning, Alex got up with me.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got some things I need to take care of."

That wasn't an answer, but I had to accept that it was none of my business.

I did accept it, too, until I got home from work and he wasn't there. I began to worry. Shit. I'd heard of agents with wives like this. Never a calm moment unless their spouse was within viewing distance... But Alex's life held hazards much greater than the average FBI agent. I fretted for a couple of hours and finally had dinner alone.

He didn't come back that night. By the next morning I was really missing him. Even worse, I felt a little hurt. Then we got called to Pittsburgh on a case. I went home for my things and left him a note.

"Alex,
Scully and I went to Pittsburgh. If all goes well, we'll be back on Thursday.
Mulder."

It didn't sound very affectionate, but I was in a hurry. Scully was waiting for me. I added my cell phone number to the bottom of the note to encourage him to call and rushed out the door.

I didn't make it back until Friday night. I dashed into my apartment eagerly, but I knew he wasn't there the minute I opened the door. The note was exactly where I'd left it. I dialed his cell-phone number and got the out of range message.

I watched crap on TV all night while I was trying to figure out what had happened. My best guess—a delayed reaction to the beating I'd given him. Alex didn't want me any more.

I missed his face the most. I wanted to see those lush green eyes shining at me.

Maybe he had been hurt or killed. In his weakened state, from the beating I'd given him, he might not be able to defend himself. It was unlikely anyone would think to notify me if he was killed. I drove to work Saturday morning to make sure my name was in the record with his fingerprints as an interested party. Of course my name and badge number were already there.

I slummed around all day Saturday. I wore my grubbiest clothes and didn't shower. I had no way to contact him other than the cell number. It was still giving me the same useless message. Would he just leave me without even an opportunity to talk him out of it? I had to believe that he might do just that.

I moped around all weekend. I didn't enjoy myself. I couldn't work. I barely ate. Monday morning was almost a relief. I dragged myself into work late. Scully was already there. She took one look at me and her face registered alarm.

"Mulder, what happened?"

I sat in my chair. "He's gone. Alex."

Scully came over and stood by me. "For good?" she inquired gently.

"I don't know."

She put a hand on my shoulder and patted me a little. "I'm sorry, Mulder."

I just nodded and tried to execute my morning rituals. Voicemail. Email. Wait, there was a message without any sender ID or subject. Odd.

"Mulder,
I'm okay. Got a problem I'm trying to fix. I'll try to get back next week. Don't worry.
A.
P.S. I miss you."

I looked at the message header. It was missing a lot of the required fields, but was dated. Last Wednesday.

I was so relieved. "Scully, he's okay. I got email."

Then I realized how I'd been acting the last few days. I'd fallen hard for the consortium spy. This had started out as just sex, at least for me. But now I could no longer ignore that he had become essential to my happiness. That made me depend on him more than I wanted to. A lot more. He wasn't exactly Mr. Dependable, was he?

I'd learned to trust Alex in an odd way. There were definite boundaries to that trust. For example, I believed that he wouldn't lie to me, unless it was really important. He wouldn't hurt me, unless he had no other choice. He wouldn't interfere with my work, unless whoever the hell he worked for told him to and he couldn't figure a way out of it. When I added all that up, it didn't exactly spell trust. But it was the only kind of trust I could have for him.

But to trust him with my feelings? Shit. I doubted that he could respect them if he tried. Merely understanding them would be a major challenge. It was for me.

I kidnapped Scully for lunch. We went to the harbor for seafood. I even let her drive, which shows how worried I was.

"What's wrong, Mulder," she asked over clam chowder.

"I think I might be more involved with Alex than I originally intended."

"Well, that's a surprise," she deadpanned. "It's been obvious for a long time."

"Why didn't you do something to stop me?" I suggested, feeling pathetic even as I said it.

"Oh, yeah, sure, Mulder. At any time, just a word from me and you'd have dropped him."

"Of course, Scully. I always follow your advice." I ate a spoonful of chowder. "And if you believe that, then you'll believe that I spent an entire weekend miserable because one my fish died."

"I don't imagine that he's an easy man to care for." I loved her for choosing her words so carefully. It was kinder than I deserved. After more than five years together, the woman owed me about a thousand I-told-you-sos.

"No," I admitted. "He's easy to be around. I enjoy his company. His career, however, is definitely not what I would have chosen for anyone that I cared about."

I proceeded to monopolize the conversation with my woes, but she had no easy answers and neither did I.

When I got home from work on Thursday, he was there, sitting on my sofa. I ran over to him like a high school girl to her teen idol. I kissed his lips with hunger, his unshaven face scouring mine.

"God, Alex, you almost have a beard."

"I haven't shaved for a few days."

"No kidding." I kissed his forehead. "Close your eyes." I kissed them, too.

I was so pathetically grateful just to touch him again. And it didn't have anything to do with sex. I knew that. Couldn't deny it. And I really wanted to deny it.

"Have you eaten?"

He shook his head.

"Let me take you out," I asked. I'd never done that before. Every meal we'd ever enjoyed together had been consumed in my little apartment.

"What if someone sees us?"

"I don't care."
"Skinner?"

"All right. I do care. I'll make sure we go somewhere he won't go."

We ended up in a little Chinese place in not the best part of D.C. I'd been there once after a meeting with an informant. It was a dive, but it was quiet and the food was good.

I hadn't given Alex enough time to shave, so he still wore his three-day beard. "You look very hot with that fur on your face."

He gave me a smoldering look. "I'm glad you like it, but I'm not keeping it. It makes my face sweat."

There was one little spot on his chin where there wasn't any hair. Probably an old scar I hadn't noticed before.

"Did everything go well on your trip?" I didn't want to pry, but I was concerned.

He frowned. "Let's talk about that later, okay?"

My need for peace between us led me to back down immediately. "Fine."

He reached under the table and found my thigh. He stroked it gently—not trying to get me excited, just wanting the contact. It was just right—kept us connected.

For the first time with him, I talked about the X-Files. I avoided anything that even remotely might relate to the Consortium, but I was able to just chat with him. He seemed to especially enjoy hearing about the Great Mutato. It felt like his presence alone was enough to keep me from ever being unhappy again.

Later, we were walking the dark streets of D.C. back to my car. He whispered into my ear, his husky voice in a serious tone. "Don't ask any questions. Just listen. When we get back to your apartment, I'm going to give you two envelopes."

I nodded.

"Inside each is a key and instructions. They're identical. I want you to put them in two separate safe places. If anything should happen to me-"

My heart rate accelerated immediately. "Is something going to happen to you?"

"Hush. I'm just trying to make sure nothing does. If anything should happen, I want you to retrieve and open either envelope and follow the instructions."

I nodded. I knew he was setting this up to protect himself. I desperately hoped that this meant he was trying to get away from the Consortium.

"Don't worry, I won't ask you to do anything immoral."

"I trust you."

He looked at me askance, like he wanted to question my judgment, but said nothing.

"Would anyone understand the instructions if they had the envelope?"

"No. I've coded parts of it with private information that only you and I know."

I had to stifle my curiosity. What private information did I share with this man? "Okay. I'll do as you ask." We'd reached the car. "What if something happens to me?"

"I've given another pair of envelopes to someone else."

I was dying to know who else was in his life, but I doubted that he'd be forthcoming, so I didn't bother to ask. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah, let's keep walking."

We passed a very obvious drug dealer on the corner. He gave us a territorial glare, and even we tough guys scurried away, respecting his turf.

We'd gone two more blocks, before I sensed the tension leave Alex's shoulders. "You're trying to get out—away from the Consortium, aren't you?"

"Yes. I'm trying, but it may not be good enough. With as much as I know, and..." He gave me a smile full of regret. "... even as much as you know, we'll never be safe again. You have to watch your back, Mulder. Promise me."

"I promise. But you're out, right?"

"I'm trying. Maybe. No promises yet, Mulder, but I think I'm out."

I smiled at him. "Thank you. That's good." I knew he was doing it for me, and I was truly grateful.

He stopped on the street and turned to face me. "It's not good, Mulder. I'm not good. Don't forget it. I can't live up to that. I'm just trying to make it easier for... on us."

I tried to reassure him. "I understand."

"No, you don't understand!" He spoke in an urgent, harsh whisper through his teeth. "I left two more corpses behind me this week and one of them didn't have anything to do with the Consortium."

I closed my eyes, unable to bear the thought of his recent violence. I didn't want to know.

I heard him continue, "I'm not a good man, Mulder. I'm not even trying to be a good man like you. I'm just... I'm just trying not to hurt you any more than I have to."

It was a statement of his devotion. But I was angry, like I'd hoped I never would be again after I'd put him in the hospital. I opened my eyes and stepped toward him. I saw fear course through those emerald eyes and he backed away. Fast.

"I'm not going to hit you, dammit." I was in control this time.

He stood still and let me approach him. I put one hand on his chest and pushed him back against a storefront. "Promise me something."

"What?" His breathing was rough.

"Promise me you'll never kill another innocent person."

He thought about it a long time before he said it. "Your father wasn't innocent, Mulder."

I slammed my fists into the walls on either side of his head. I screamed, "GOD DAMMIT, I KNOW THAT. Promise me! You. Fucking. Promise. Me."

"I promise," he said in a low voice.

"Swear it!"

I didn't have to tell him to look into my eyes. "I swear it." Gradually, his face softened into a look that I had no trouble reading, although it was hard to believe: he'd do anything for me.

And I had to face that I felt the same way. Because I'd made him swear it to protect him and us. It had nothing to do with anyone he might hurt. Yes, he was definitely my dark twin, or I was his. My desire for him overrode a lot of things that were sacred to me.

I calmed down and leaned my head against his just for the contact. He put his arm on my back and stroked me a little. In a couple of minutes I felt saner. "Let's go home," I whispered to him.

I turned back toward where we'd come from, but he led me another way. I couldn't figure out where he was taking me until we looped around a couple of blocks. He was guiding me around the dope dealer's corner.

We reached the car without speaking. But once inside, he leaned his head on my shoulder and his hand found my face. He pulled me in for a kiss. I was calm, but I felt my anger still burning under the surface. My sore fists were a painful reminder. I kissed him roughly, grinding my face into his.

I drove home as fast as I could. He didn't seem alarmed. Quite the opposite, he seemed relaxed. We barely made it in the door before I was undressing myself. For no apparent reason, he went to my bookcase and pulled out—of all things—my abnormal psychology textbook. He removed two envelopes and brought them to me.

Holding my pants around my waist, I took the envelopes to my briefcase on the kitchen table. He watched me put them inside and followed me back out to the living room.

"Now you can take your damned clothes off." He said it with a smile. That magnificent, lustful Alex smile...

I wanted him so badly, I hardly had the patience to undress. He watched me toe off my shoes and pull down my pants. I stepped out of my undershorts and decided to ignore my socks. "How come you're still dressed?"

"I thought you might want to watch."

He proceeded to do the slowest, sexiest disrobing in the history of man. I sat on the sofa panting. I savored the sight of his beautiful, masculine body. Every inch of him was muscle, with just a little bit of fat to smooth everything out into the sensual form that was Alex.

I was seeing and feeling just what I'd have been missing if he hadn't come back to me. I was so glad he had. So was my dick.

He finished by removing his jeans, his back to me, waving his very round ass in my direction. I had to laugh at his teasing.

In a flash he was on his knees pushing my legs apart. He hugged me like that, his head pressed into my chest. "I want you so badly." Hearing his husky voice after everything, I couldn't take any more.

"Do it. Suck me, Alex."

I needed it, and I needed it right then. But he took it slowly anyway, and I didn't try to rush him. Maybe I was no longer capable of speech. I just sat there, while he licked his way to my crotch, stopping for a tongue excursion around my nipples and a plunge into my navel.

By the time he sucked my balls into his mouth, I was already about to come.

"Better hurry," I rasped out between breaths.

He released my nuts and I heard him laugh. But he finally took my cock into his throat in one sudden motion.

I got out one good, loud groan, and then I shot in his mouth. He didn't stop sucking and I'd swear I came again. Maybe it was the same orgasm and it just lasted forever. In either case, I was reduced to a puddle on the couch.

I felt his eyes on me and looked down. He was grinning at me. So beautiful. Smile so big, his eyes closed a little. I couldn't resist saying, "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

He blushed. Alex Krycek, who'd have dreamed? "I've got a problem in my lap that I'd like your help with."

I reached down and grabbed it with my hand. I used it to pull him up into my lap. "Fuck, Mulder. Be careful. I might need that again."

I gave him a smirk and started jacking him off while I kissed his scratchy face. I explored his mouth, but he broke away, gasping for air. I'd never kissed him so furiously and for so long. I'd never kissed anyone like that. His mouth was sustenance and I was beyond hungry.

He put his arm around my shoulders and rested his head against mine. Perfect, I thought. I drove him hard and fast toward orgasm. His brow formed that adorable little crease between his eyes, like when he was frustrated. He shuddered and collapsed in my arms.

We sat there for a long time, just being together. Eventually, I led him to the bathroom to clean us up. From there, we went to bed. I wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him close to me, our faces close enough to kiss.

Krycek

We went to bed, but Mulder was thinking. I could tell. He got this look of consternation on his face. I was expecting something heavy, so I started to armor-up.

He comes off with, "Krycek, are you gay?"

"No, Mulder. This thing with you and me, I'm just trying to reproduce."

A smirk flickered across his face, before he relaxed again. He slid onto his side and put a hand on my chest, just touching. "No, I mean are you gay or bi or straight with exceptions or what?"

"I'm probably bisexual. I mean I am attracted to women, but I usually end up with men. Maybe I'm gay with exceptions."

"I can't imagine you with a woman." Mulder absent-mindedly teased my nipple with his fingertips. "Tell me about the last woman you had sex with. What was she like?"

I grimaced at that memory. I wasn't sure I wanted to go there, but maybe I had to open myself up a little bit to the man. "You know her, Mulder."


Chapter 9

Krycek

He sat up and gave me a look like I'd just dropped in from Mars. "I don't think we both know any women, except Scully. And if you fucked Scully, I'll give myself a blowjob."

"Too bad I didn't. I'd like to see that."

He elbowed me in the ribs. "So who, then? I just can't think of any women. Someone at the Bureau?"

I shook my head.

"There aren't any women in the Consortium."

"Actually, there are, but you probably didn't realize that she was part of it."

Mulder frowned, trying to solve the riddle.

"You drove me to her apartment one night."

"Marita Covarrubias?" His face was brimming with disbelief.

I gave a small nod.

"No way!"

"Way, Mulder."

"She's a striking woman. I can see the attraction." His fingers wandered idly up my chest. "Okay, I gotta know, what's she like in bed?"

"Would you want me telling people what you're like in bed?"

"No, but you are going to tell me about Marita. Or I'll torture it out of you."

"Can I get a sample of the torture before I have to decide?"

Mulder smacked me on the hip. "Tell me."

I winked at him. "She likes it rough—she can dish it out and take it. Talks dirty, too. I can barely keep up with her foul mouth."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Those long, strong Mulder fingers worked their way down to my navel. "When did you go to bed with her?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"She came on to me the night before we left for Russia."

"You turned down Marita to go to Tunguska with me? Not one of your brighter moves, Mulder."

"I guess it would have saved us both a lot of pain if I hadn't." Mulder put his hand on my left shoulder. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't." I pushed his hand away. "I don't want you to apologize for the consequences of my own actions. Just don't." I moved away from him to make my position perfectly clear.

He followed me across the bed and a warm arm came around my waist.

I needed to steer the conversation away from Tunguska. "Marita likes tall men with dark hair and light eyes."

"So do I, apparently." He ran his fingers across my abdomen. "You didn't answer my question."

"I only went to bed with her a few times and it was after that." I flipped on my back again, so I could see his face.

Mulder looked a little vulnerable. "So I suppose she gives better blowjobs than I do?"

I was amazed by his concern. "I wouldn't trade one of yours for five of hers."

"How come?" he asked, smiling at me.

I wasn't about to tell him it was that sweet desire of his to please me. If he knew how submissive he looked doing it he'd never do it again. "Attitude. Enthusiasm. I don't know... Yours are just better."

He scowled at me in disbelief, but let it go. Mulder's hair was on the rampage with three little horns sticking straight up around the whorl of his cowlick.

"So what's with the gay question, Mulder?"

"I'm just trying to figure it out. I never thought of myself as even bisexual, but here we are. I don't know what to think. Is this going to improve my taste in ties?"

I snorted at him. "I doubt it. I think it's too late for your ties."

"Do you think I'm gay, Alex?"

"You're the psychologist, Mulder."

Those fingers found my ear lobe. "But I want your opinion."

"Well, when you're in a public place, do you notice more men than women?"

"I don't even look at the men. Do you?"

"Definitely."

"I've been trained to see women as the sexy ones. It never really occurred to me to look at men like that until recently."

"What happened to change it?"

"You kissed my cheek."

I kissed that mole of his again, to let him know that I hadn't forgotten. And just because I wanted to. "What about your hard-on in Hong Kong?"

"It just happened. I didn't think anything. There's some kind of chemistry that makes our bodies react to each other. Don't tell me you don't feel it."

"Believe me, Mulder. I feel it."

He teased the side of my neck with one fingertip. "Did you ever feel that kind of chemistry with another man?"

"No. Nor another woman. It's not simply attraction. It's like a biological imperative."

"Fuck... isn't it, though?"

"So what's the verdict, are you gay?"

"I presume that I'm bisexual, but that sounds like some swinger who has a lot of sex. And that's never been the case."

His warm fingertips slid down my thigh. "We could work on that, bi-boy."

He replied with a grin, "If we're a couple of bi-guys I should invite Scully to join us..."

"Over my dead body." And then I added, "Of course, that's probably just the way she'd like it."

At least we could joke about it.

Mulder

I woke early, feeling pain in my hands. I staggered to the bathroom before I remembered. My hands were bruised and swollen from when I bashed them into the wall the night before. I pushed away the memory and took my shower.

Getting ready to shave, I glanced in the mirror and saw that my face was chapped. I touched my cheek and it felt raw. At first I didn't get it, but then it dawned on me. Whisker burn. I smiled at the memory of all that kissing.

I was feeling selfish, so I woke him. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Yes."

I kissed him longer than I had time for, enjoying the burning sensation of his beard on my tender face.

As I drove to work, the pain in my hands brought me back to the conversation during our walk. I was ashamed that'd he killed again, but I didn't know if I was ashamed of him or of myself.

If I was a better man than he was, it wasn't by much. For I had given his victims not a single thought until that moment. I'd taken Alex home. We got each other off and spent the night together. Not until the next morning did I stop to consider the lives he'd taken. With Alex nearby, my morals weren't any better than his.

That thought was a piece of sorrow that slid down into my gut. I just let it be. I already knew I could live with it. Part of me felt the urge to brood about it for the next year or two, but I couldn't. I'd spent too much of my life moping and I needed to get on with living. Alex made me want to live. So I did.

I escaped early from a budget meeting. I wrote my name and badge number on one of the envelopes Alex had given me, my name and cell phone number on the other. I drove to the regional FBI office in Baltimore, making sure I wasn't followed. I chased down a guy I'd roomed with at the Academy. I asked him to keep the envelope for me in his desk and to never tell anyone about it. On the way back, I stopped in College Park and drove to the University. There I went to find a professor I'd known from Cambridge. I gave him the second envelope and asked him to keep it at his house.

I made it back in time for lunch. Scully didn't ask where I'd been, so I didn't have to make up a story. After about an hour of working together quietly, I caught her watching me with an odd expression on her face.

"Mulder, what happened to your face?"

I felt my ears go red, but I remained silent.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"You tell me, Scully."

"Beard burn. You got that from kissing an unshaven man."

I nodded, feeling rather proud in a juvenile way, like a high school kid with his first hickey.

"Mulder, anyone who sees that could guess what it is. And you don't get it from kissing a woman."

"Then I suppose they'll think I've been kissing a man." I smiled to let her know I wasn't going to let it bother me. I felt so damned happy about having Alex in my life.

I left work early and did some shopping. First I cruised down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Gap. Next stop Dupont Circle.

When I opened the door to my apartment, I thought I had the wrong unit. I could smell something wonderful. Garlic. Oregano. Spaghetti sauce?

I found a clean-shaven Alex in the kitchen. Cooking.

"Hi, honey. I'm home."

He smirked at me, and then faked an Italian accent, "Ei! You wuant me to cooc for you onli once, ten you tease me. You wuant me to cooc for you again, ten you don't."

I grabbed him around the waist from behind. "And what if I want you to fuck me again?"

Gesturing like a passionate, one-armed Italian he replied, "Ten you take off your clothes and trow yourself on te floor."

I'd never seen him be silly before. His whole face lit up. So beautiful... my Alex.

After dinner, we had ice cream in the living room. "Thank you for dinner." I kissed lips still cold from the ice cream.

Then I retrieved the shopping bags. "I brought you some presents." I handed him one, which held a pair of black Levi's 501s.

He was a little excited, but he didn't want it to show. He looked at the jeans suspiciously. "How'd you know my size?"

"I read it off your butt."

"Well, I did need some clothes." He seemed afraid to accept a gift from me. I wasn't prepared for that.

"I was going to buy you some underwear—you never seem to have any—but then I thought, why slow you down when you're undressing?"

He gave me a smart-ass look and seemed to relax a bit.

I pulled up another bag. "But wait. There's more." Two casual, tailored shirts. One forest green. One white with blue stripes.

I didn't know what I'd done wrong, but he seemed to turn serious on me. His emotions just faded off his face. "Uh, thank you. That's nice."

I gave up trying to humor him. "What's wrong, Alex?"

"Nothing." He used that surly voice men use when they really mean, 'I don't fucking want to talk about it!'

I decided to ignore it for a while. "Well, if you'd put on fresh jeans and a shirt, I'd like to take you out for a drink. Okay?"

"Where?" he inquired suspiciously.

I pulled up my last bag, a small one from a bookstore and whipped out the "Gay Man's Guide to Washington, D.C."

He couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Oh, god, Mulder. You bought that?"

"No. I paid a hustler $50 to go in and buy it for me. Of course I bought it."

"Does this mean that you're a... you know... a hom-uh-sex'll?" He said the H word like you'd expect to hear it from a fundamentalist minister.

I bopped him with the book. "You just go make yourself pretty and I'll find us homos a place to go. 'Kay?"

He grinned at me and went to change his clothes.

Flipping through the pages of the book, I caught myself thinking that this was the first time I'd ever had a sense of humor about my homosexuality or whatever the hell my sexual orientation was. Alexual?

We ended up at Boystown, a dance bar just off P Street. It was only 9:30 when we got there, so it was still possible to park. I was a little nervous. I'd been in a gay bar before, but always on law enforcement business.

He sensed my reticence. "Mulder, we don't have to do this."

"I want to, Alex."

"What if we run into someone you know from the Bureau?"

"Then we'll know that they're gay, too."

"What if it's someone who knows me?" His voice was low, concerned.

Well, that was the crux of the matter. I could brush aside what would happen if they knew that I was queer. But Krycek was a suspected felon, wanted for questioning in multiple homicides.

I just wanted to be with him somewhere where I could touch him in public. I couldn't justify the decision, so I didn't even try to explain. I just slapped his thigh and said, "C'mon. I'm going to buy you a drink."

We needn't have worried. At that hour there were about ten people in whole joint. Boystown was an elegant little place—mahogany bar, hardwood floors, tasteful dÈcor.

We found a booth near the bar. A handsome redheaded waiter met us there with a smile. "Hey, boys."

I felt embarrassed, but it took me a moment to figure out why. It was the first time anyone had ever assumed I was a gay man. I suppose I expected him to look at me like I didn't belong.

Alex smiled at the waiter. I asked for a beer and Alex ordered a Coke.

Even nearly empty, the bar smelled of beer and cigarettes. I could see a dance floor in another room. I heard music I didn't recognize—heavy bass throbbing off the walls.

I sat across from Alex, wanting to touch him, when I realized that I could. I pulled his hand over to me and stroked it. His face was relaxed, happy even.

"Fuck this," I said to him, jumping up. I joined him on the other side of the booth, putting an arm around his waist. I kissed him and the flavor of his soft drink mingled with my beer.

"Want to dance?" he asked me.

"I don't dance, Alex."

He pouted. I'd never seen him do that before. With his elfin ears and round little mouth it was too cute.

"I don't know how to dance."

"I'll show you." He took my hand and used his hip to nudge me out of the booth.

"There's no one else on the dance floor," I complained as he led me there.

"So?"

"Everyone will be watching."

"Jeez. There's no one here."

I was thinking I'd rather enter a deserted building chasing a liver-eating serial killer than make a fool out of myself trying to wiggle my hips to that music.

He walked me onto the dance floor and I just stood there—probably with my tongue hanging out—watching him wriggle his butt in a way I didn't know a man's ass could move. God, he was a truly sexy creature.

"Mulder. It's better if you move."

I was still trying to figure out what to do with all my body parts, when the song ended and another one started. A slow one. I began to panic, but Alex took my right arm and rested it on his left shoulder. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

His embrace calmed me down. He felt so good in my arms. I nuzzled his ear and let him lead. He smelled good, too. A musky, leather, Alex scent.

He purred, "Mmm... isn't this nice?"

I don't think I said anything, being rather deliciously lost in a brainless state.

After the dance was over, Alex suggested a seat near the dance floor. As the bar began to fill, men paired off and danced for us.

"I didn't know men could move like that," I said stupidly.

He took my hand and rested it on his erection. "Take me home and I'll show you how men can move."

"I suppose you've been to a gay bar before?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever pick anyone up?"

"Yes."

"What was it like fucking a total stranger?"

"Not nearly as good as fucking you." I was watching his face. He wasn't being flip. He meant it. I felt safer knowing that he had feelings at risk too.

"Let's go home."

He moved my hand so it slid along his cock beneath his jeans. "Sure."

I drove home, both of us silent for most of the trip. I knew he thought we were going home for sex, but that wasn't what I wanted.

"Alex. I don't want to fuck tonight."

He hesitated and his reply was a tentative, "Okay." There was something in his voice. Apprehension, but I couldn't make sense of that.

When we got inside, I hauled him off to the shower. He was sporting a healthy erection, but didn't seem to mind when I ignored it.

I adjusted the water and pushed him under it, watching it sluice off his muscular body. I grabbed the soap and lathered up his neck and chest. I worked it into his armpits and he squirmed.

"Ticklish, Alex?"

"No," he said, but I knew he was lying. I filed that fact away for future use, because I didn't want to torment him just then.

I massaged his chest with soapy hands, feeling the slick, solid feel of him. Then I lathered up again and rubbed his shoulders. I washed his right arm between the fingers of both of my hands, giving enough pressure to make him feel good. When I reached for his left arm, he cringed a little, but didn't pull away. I soaped it up and rubbed around it. I could feel the atrophied muscle that must have been the remains of his biceps. There was also a fading scab, which my own hands had put there. Gently I took the scarred end of the arm in my fingers and rubbed it with suds.

His face was tight. Very tight.

"Does that hurt?"

"No," he replied, but he was barely breathing.

He loosened up somewhat after I finished with his arm and went down to his belly. I could feel the muscles of his abs slipping past my fingers. I didn't know how he kept himself so fit. I'd never seen him exercise.

"Turn around," I ordered.

He complied and I did his back. His body looked like he worked out with weights, but I wasn't sure how much of that you could do with one arm. I savored the sight of his broad shoulders tapering to his trim waist. His delicious bubble butt capped it all off into one gorgeous picture. I ran my eager hands over those round buns. My cock was harder than his at this point. I couldn't resist teasing his anus a little with my soapy fingers. He squirmed away and turned around.

"Jesus, Mulder. Don't do that if we're not going to fuck!"

"I'm sorry." I gave him an apologetic smile and went down on my knees to do his legs. I stroked his powerful thighs and worked my way down to his calves. They were smooth and sleek.

"Pick up your foot."

He braced himself against my shoulder and held out one foot to me. I didn't expect his feet to be so soft.

"Give me the other one."

He rinsed the soapy foot and offered me the other. When he'd rinsed that, too. I stood up again and admired him.

"Your body really turns me on, Alex."

He looked pointedly at my erection. "So we're going to fuck after all?"

"No, not tonight. Tomorrow. Can't we just have some quiet time together?"

He grunted and pulled away.

I snuggled up to his back. "Just this once?"

"I'll live," he said, still facing away.

"Turn around. I want to wash your face."

He complied and I used both my hands on his face. I could just barely feel his evening beard. I took my time and was careful so I wouldn't get soap in his eyes or mouth. I saw his face tense up, but kept on rubbing softly. I didn't get it, until a tear ran down his face.

"Alex, what is it?"

He pushed me away again, and stuck his face under the water to rinse it. I planned to take him in my arms when he finished, but suddenly he stepped out of the shower. I followed him, dripping all over the bathroom. "Alex?"

"I... I think I need some space, Mulder." His voice choked up.

He was turned toward the wall, putting on his clothes, even though he was still wet. "Let me dry you," I offered.

"No!"

I watched him struggle to get clothes onto his wet body. I was hurting for him and for me. I knew he was leaving.

Dressed in the clothes I'd bought him, he put on his shoes. He turned to look in my general direction. "I think I need to be alone for a little while."

"Are you coming back?"

He finally met my eyes. His face was rigid with pain. "Yes," he said as if the word itself hurt. "I promise." Those beautiful green eyes were wet. Then he turned and walked out. In a moment I heard the front door slam.

I ran to the window and watched for him. I didn't even know if he had a car. He walked down the street. After he turned the corner I couldn't see him anymore.

I was lonely and hurting, but I let him go. I didn't know what was bothering him, but I knew he had to be alone. I sat up watching old horror movies until I fell asleep on the sofa.


Chapter 10

Mulder

My cell phone rang around lunchtime on Saturday.

"Mulder."

"It's me."

"Hi."

"I'm sorry about last night."

"I missed you."

His voice caught a little. "Yeah, me too."

"I'd like to see you."

"Tomorrow okay?" I could hear the fear in his voice.

I got it. He was afraid of the feelings. If it was sex or even violence, he was fine. But when I bought clothes for him, slow danced with him and washed his face, it was too much. Letting this man get close to me was scary. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I forgot to answer his question.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. Tomorrow would be fine."

"Good." He didn't know what else to say.

But I did. Now that I knew what he was afraid of. I just wanted to be with him. I didn't care what we did together. "Do you work out with weights?"

"What? Yeah."

"Let's do that together, tomorrow."

"I'm fairly certain that my membership at the Bureau gym has expired."

"Where do you usually work out?"

"Here and there," he replied in his best evasive tone.

"Never mind. I'll find a gym. Meet me here at 2:00?"

"Okay."

Neither of us knew how to end the call. "I'm glad you called."

"Yeah."

He showed up in blue gym shorts and a tight white T-shirt, one short sleeve closed around the stump of his arm. White Nikes. Sticking out from shorts, his legs looked about nine feet long. It was a clean-cut look on my normally leather-clad man. I leaned up against him and felt his chest through the T. "Mmmm. I like you in that."

He ran his hand down my butt. "You don't look half bad in shorts, yourself. Of course, the red Speedo is your best look."

I eyed him and remembered. "Did you find me attractive back then?"

He kissed me before he answered. "Fuck, yes." His lips traced down the side of my face. "When did you first look at me in a sexual way?"

"The night you brought the pizza."

He looked surprised, then extremely dubious.

"No, wait! Hong Kong."

"Damn straight. I could feel your erection," he said with a lustful grin.

So I took him to this gym I'd found in the Gay Guide. It looked like any other gym, except it was mostly male and the men seemed to be wearing the least possible amount of clothing. Alex and I were overdressed.

We paid $20 for two day-passes. I followed him to the stationary bicycles for a warm-up. As we pedaled, I noticed a man working a black machine across from us. He held these two chest-level pedals with his hands and pushed using just his upper body. It was like an upper body bicycle.

When the man departed, Alex bailed on his bike and went over to the odd machine. He sat down and put his hand on one pedal. He tried to turn it, but his hand slipped off. He struggled with it for a few minutes until he got the hang of it. Leaning his body for balance, he pedaled furiously with his right hand until he was sweating profusely.

I was awed. Never once had I heard him complain about his arm. I thought about all the times I'd whined about situations of much lesser consequence.

I got off the bike and went to him. Other people were watching him, too.

He had to be moving that thing more than twice as fast as the man before. The push down didn't look too difficult, but on the upswing he had to use momentum to keep it coming back at him. He ran that machine for five or ten minutes, and then suddenly he stopped. He got up and seemed satisfied.

"Let's do some weights."

I watched him do a weight machine that must have been for his lower back. Next he wrestled a heavy barbell onto his shoulders. Every man in the weight room was watching that. Once he got it there, he did lunges. I could see the asymmetrical adjustments he made to keep in balance. His form was odd, but once he was in position, he moved gracefully.

"You come to watch, Mulder?"

I found a space near him and did some sit-ups. But I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His skin was flushed and a little sweat-damp, like Alex when aroused.

He racked the barbell and fell into one-handed push-ups. There was hardly a sound in the gym as everyone stared. He appeared not to notice. His form was perfect and smooth. I couldn't have done two-handed push-ups with form like that. I decided to try the one-handed version and executed two with miserable form and died on the third.

Alex finished at least twenty of the damned things and moved on to a bench. He was doing something for the upper body with a dumbbell, when this kid in his early twenties came up. "Busy tonight?" I heard the boy ask.

"Yeah." Alex grunted, never stopping his set, never even looking at the kid.

I made my way to him as the boy sulked off. "I'd better stick around or I'll be going home alone."

He finished the set and sat up, the dumbbell tossed to the floor, green eyes locked onto mine. "I'm going home with you. As long as you want me to."

"You know I do." I smiled at him, wanting a kiss. "Every man in this gym has been checking you out."

Alex shrugged. He finished his workout with biceps curls. I still hadn't done much.

"You ready for your workout?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

He handed me the dumbbell he'd just been using. I stood there holding it.

"It works better if you move the weight."

"Fine," I snarled at him. "Then you get me a weight I can move."

He took the weight away and brought me one ten pounds lighter. He took me through an entire workout, showing me how to do everything at about half of the weight he'd lifted.

Afterward, I was covered in sweat and feeling a little shaky. "Would you mind driving home?"

He hesitated.

"You do have a driver's license."

"Two of them, as you recall."

I gave him a look. "Okay, then, Joshua. You can drive."

When we got settled in the car, I regretted asking him. Stick shift. I almost called it off, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what he'd do.

Suspiciously, he didn't look at me. He knew I was watching him. When he had to shift, he'd brace his knee against the steering wheel and use the stump of his left arm to guide it. He was pretty adept, so I knew he'd done it before. I also noticed that he didn't shift any more frequently than he absolutely had to.

When we got home my legs were wobbly. I tossed my gym bag on a chair and groaned. "Ohhh. Does it always hurt this much?"

He laughed at me. "You remember when you got mad because I didn't tell you how your ass was going to feel after being fucked?"

"Yeah."

"Your muscles are going to really hurt in about twenty four to thirty six hours."

I threw my sweaty T-shirt at him. "Well, then you'd better fuck me now, because it sounds like you won't be getting any tomorrow."

"Don't you want to get cleaned up first?"

I'd thought about a shower, but after Friday night I didn't want to take any chances. "I'm going to lick you clean."

We made our way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing.

Lying on top of him, I discovered just how dirty and sweaty we both were. He still smelled good, though. I felt like such an animal wanting him like that. "Can you stand the way I smell?"

He stuck out his tongue and licked my armpit. "No problem," he said in his cocky voice.

I shuddered and said, "Don't expect me to reciprocate that."

He chuckled and pulled me into a kiss that didn't taste the least bit raunchy. Then he wrestled his way on top. He held himself over me with his sole arm and I wondered if he could fuck me while doing one-armed push-ups.

Something about this masculine body on top of mine made my hormones fire as they never had before. Not at all like sex with women. Alex was a completely male animal. I felt like his prey. Being taken by him was so right—all the way down to the deepest recesses of my little reptilian brain.

He slowly let his weight shift on to me. I loved the feeling of being held down by his body. He gnawed on my neck for a while. He seemed to just savor the taste of it, or maybe Fox Mulder was his personal salt lick. Then he started to work his way south.

He caught some of the hairs on my chest—few, but proud—and tugged them with his lips. He moved on to my abdomen, licking and sucking on hunks of my skin that he could grasp between his lips.

Then he rubbed his nose in my pubic hair. "Oh, god, Mulder. You smell like... like a MAN."

I swatted his head with my hand.

He laughed and squirmed. "Okay, okay."

He rolled us both over onto our sides, so he was facing me. He scooted down toward my crotch. I expected to feel the flick of his tongue on my cock, but he took me all the way down with one swallow.

"Aaah!"

He released my cock from this throat. "That was pretty." And before I could complain, he was sucking me again while jacking himself off.

Then he released his own cock. He worked mine a few more times and pulled off of it. "Don't stop, Alex."

"I want to fuck you."

"Well.... Okay, then."

I rolled to the edge of the bed and rolled back with the lube and a condom. I sat up to put the condom onto his thick cock. Then I lay back down. Alex sat between my legs.

He took my cock into his mouth again and made sure I was still in the mood—an unnecessary step, but I wasn't complaining. Then he pulled back and lubed his fingers and his cock. "Flip over," he whispered.

So I rearranged myself again, face down.

In a moment I felt his lips on my butt. He took a bite.

"Ow!"

I heard him chuckle. Then I felt a cool finger slide across my anus and enter me. He quickly removed one finger and replaced two. I loved the feel of him in me, even just his fingers. He stroked across my prostate and I groaned my approval.

He opened me up slowly, his fingers prowling my ass. His pace was good. I knew I wouldn't have to wait all day for him to fuck me. Soon he removed two fingers and put in more. I did my best to relax, though how anyone could truly relax with this hot man's fingers in his ass is beyond me.

"You want it, Mulder?"

"You know I do." He was fucking me pretty hard with his fingers at this point.

"Convince me."

"Bastard!"

His voice dropped very low, as he repeated himself, "Convince me."

I wilted. My voice started out testy, but I was soon babbling in a pleading tone. "You know how badly I want it. Fuck me. Please, Alex. Fuck me." I wiggled my ass at him to reinforce my message.

His fingers were gone in an instant. I felt his weight shift and his cock pushed into me hard and fast. Oh, god. He fucked me so good. It felt like he was penetrating my entire body from head to toe. Liquid Alex flowing in my veins...

He shifted forward and kissed the back of my neck. I strained myself into a neck twist and his tongue found my mouth. He savaged my mouth as his cock plundered my ass. So damned good...

I rubbed my cock into the sheets underneath me.

Then, he pulled up off my back and used his hand to guide my hips off the bed. "Lift your butt."

I complied and backed my rear end into a kneeling Alex. He entered me again and reached for my cock. Between his hand jacking me off and his cock in my ass, I was going to come quickly.

He brought me right to the brink and started whispering to me. "Mulder. I'm going to keep fucking you, but I'm going to stop touching your cock."

I don't like to admit this but I squealed. Well, not exactly a squeal. It was a low sound of manly frustration. Okay, it was a girly-sounding squeal. Somehow I managed to speak, trying to use a serious voice to persuade. "No, Alex. Don't do that."

"You're going to come just from me in your ass."

"I don't think so."

"I know you can do it, lover."

That smoky voice calling me lover made me want to believe.

He stroked my shaft a few times roughly. I was very close, but worrying about his tactics had put me off a little. It did feel wonderful, though. I kept thinking each stroke might be my last, so all I could do was let go and let the sensations carry me away.

He was close to coming himself. I could tell by his rapid breathing.

He was still touching me. I thought I was going to sneak in my orgasm before he stopped. Then he released my cock. I could feel the delicious sensation of his cock sliding in and out of me, brushing across my prostate, but it wasn't enough.

I still hadn't come. I whimpered.

His voice was low and raw. "Come for me, lover." The man's voice was as good as his hand on my cock, wasn't it? "Come for Alex."

Then Alex lost it. He started to come and let his body fall on mine, driving me into the sheets. I felt his cock throb in my ass and I exploded in my own orgasm.

He lay on my back for a while, holding me. Then he pulled out of me and off of me. I heard the condom make a splish sound as it hit the trashcan.

He stroked my hair. "You going to turn around any time soon? I'm getting lonely."

"Mmmphf."

"What was that?"

I twisted my neck again. "I'm too tired to turn over."

He helped me flop over.

"God, I hurt."

"You didn't seem to be in any pain ten minutes ago."

"Sex with you will do that." I grumbled a little and lay my head on his chest. "God, Alex you are the most aggravating-"

"It was hot, wasn't it?"

"It was fantastic. You are an incredible lover."

"If I'm not getting any tomorrow night, I wanted it to be good."

He stayed the night. I struggled with what I was feeling for this man. I experienced this crazy joy just from being near him. I wanted to try to put it into words, but that would make me very vulnerable to him. And, after the shower incident, I didn't want to torture him either. So I tried to be low key about whatever the hell it was that I was feeling.

On Monday morning, Scully asked me again. "Why don't you bring Alex over for dinner tomorrow night?"

"I'll ask him, Scully." For the first time since I'd been seeing him, I had the nerve to ask Alex something like that. "Are you sure you're going to be okay having him there?"

She sighed. "I'm sure he'll never be my favorite person. I can't forgive what he did, but I try to think of him as two different people. I'm trying to stay focused on Alex Krycek, my friend's lover."

I had to smile, because she was demonstrating her love for me. "I'll ask him."

That night, after consuming a pizza, we were just hanging around. I was watching TV. Alex seemed content to close his eyes and—I don't know what the hell he was doing when he did that—maybe just thinking.

I turned off a boring movie. "Alex?"

"Mmm."

"I want to ask a favor."

He opened his eyes. "Sure."

"You haven't heard it yet."

"So tell me."

"Scully has invited us to dinner tomorrow night."

"Us?"

"Us. Me and you, Alex."

"Shit." He sounded worried. "She really wants me in her house?"

"Yes."

"She's not planning on poisoning me or anything?"

"No."

"She'll change her mind when she sees me."

"She's thought about it a lot. She's trying to see you the way I do. This is the second time she's asked."

I saw his Adam's apple bob up and down. "If this is something you really want to do, I'll do it."

The next night Scully greeted us rather formally at the door.

"Mulder. Krycek." She nodded and let us in.

Alex looked like a deer in the headlights as he handed her the flowers that we'd brought.

Scully escorted us to the kitchen table. We sat. After arranging the flowers into a vase, she removed a dried flower arrangement and put the fresh ones in the center of the table.

She sat next to me. Across from Alex. Scully looked at him and took a deep breath. "I know we are not friends and may never be, but I didn't invite you here to talk about the past. I'm trying to give you a chance—and give myself a chance to get to know you."

"Thank you," he said in a hushed voice. He cleared his throat. "Thank you for Mulder."

She smiled a little. "That's why we're both here, isn't it?"

Alex just nodded. His face was blank, not trusting her with his feelings.

She got up and patted my shoulder as she passed me. "You're going to like dinner. I made guy food."

I forced myself to speak. "You need any help?" She'd fed me dozens of times, but I'm sure it was the first time I'd ever offered to help.

Scully's smile acknowledged that she understood. "No. Just sit."

She went to the refrigerator and turned toward us. "What would you like to drink? I have beer, sodas, something stronger?"

"I'll have a beer, Scully."

I nudged Alex. "Coke, please." He wasn't much of a talker to begin with. I knew this was going to be a challenge. Scully had to be the person he wanted to talk to the least. Actually the second least. I suppressed a chuckle thinking of dinner at Skinner's house.

Scully came back with his Coke, my beer and a Diet 7-up for herself.

There was a moment of anxious glances around the table while we all tried to figure out what we were going to talk about.

Scully to the rescue. "Everything's ready except for the corn." She tried to smile at him with limited success. "Do you cook?"

"A little." He seemed more interested in the fabric of his pants than the conversation.

"That's good," she continued. "Because, as you must know, Mulder can't."

"Hey, hey! I can make eggs."

Scully answered that. "I've had your eggs. Unless you laid them yourself, you've got no business expecting credit for them."

"Be kind, Scully."

Alex forced a smile.

Scully had tried to get us talking. My turn. "I renewed my driver's license last month and I got it in the mail today." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wallet. Extracting the new license I passed it to Alex.

It said plain as day, Fox William Mulder. My address was correct. The photo, however, was of some little old lady. We're talking 70-something old lady.

Alex suppressed a giggle and passed it to Scully. She chuckled at the photo and then said to me, "Bad hair day?"

She handed it back to Alex. He forgot he was sulking for a moment. "No. That's what he looks like in the morning. It takes him two hours in the bathroom..."

"Let's not have all the fun at my expense. I went undercover once as Scully's husband. She painted her face avocado green and went to bed like that. No wonder she's still single."

"I did that to scare you away, so you'd stop calling me Honey Bunch."

"It was better than Poopy Head."

A timer went off and she rose.

I smiled at Alex and stroked his hair, to give him some encouragement. He seemed tense, but okay.

Scully came back with plates for me and Alex. But by the time she returned with her own, something had already happened to his face.

Scully sat down and looked at him. "What?"

"Uh, where's the bathroom?" He looked stricken, and then his face just went blank.

"Down the hall on the right. Are you okay?"

He ignored her and left the table.

She looked at me. "What just happened?"

I looked at her and then his plate, then at mine and I knew. Steak, corn on the cob, baked potato. "Scully, look at your plate."

"Huh?"

"How much of that do you think you could eat with one hand?"

"Oh, shit. Just the potato."

She stood up and reached for his plate. "I'll cut it up."

"Castrating him would be kinder."

She sat down again. "Well, what are we going to do, then?"

"Nothing. We'll have to let him handle it however he needs to."

"Is this a guy thing?" She had that men-are-so-lame tone in her voice.

"Yeah. Let's eat. I have a feeling he's not going to be very hungry."

He eventually returned to the table and picked at the potato while we finished. Scully didn't say a word about the food, but any festive mood was dead and buried.

We talked a little about some cases and a few people at the Bureau. Alex mostly ignored us, but every now and then he'd jump in and try to participate in the conversation. I'd never seen him attempt to play along socially before. It meant a lot to me that he was trying.

Eventually Scully cleared the plates.

"I've got ice cream for desert. Chocolate chip."

"Sounds good."

"Why don't you take your drinks into the living room and I'll meet you there?"

Alex and I got comfortable on the sofa. He gave me a look and rolled his eyes. Surely he was thinking, 'the things I do for you....'

Scully joined us with a tray and three bowls of ice cream. Mine had two scoops. Hers had one scoop. Alex's had four scoops. I couldn't help myself, I started laughing. Even Alex had to fight off a laugh.

"I figured you for a serious ice cream eater." She touched him briefly on his good shoulder, which clearly made his hackles rise, but he tried to be cool about it.

Later, she walked us to the door.

Alex spoke stiffly. "Thank you for dinner, Scully."

She nodded. "Good night."

Alex disappeared behind the door and I shook my head. She gave me a sad smile and squeezed my arm.

In the car on the way home, he apologized. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I tried."

"It's not your fault."

"She has a good reason for hating me. So do you."

"I don't hate you. And I don't think she does either. At least she's trying not to."

He shook his head.

"She didn't make that dinner on purpose."

"I know."

"Hasn't this ever come up before?"

"I don't get a lot of invitations."

"I'm sorry. I should have thought about it."

"'S okay." He put his hand on my thigh. "Take me home. You can make it up to me."

In Book 2 Krycek gets into trouble... BIG trouble.

xx

toes@att.net

Chemistry 2: Divided

Chemistry Book 1: Desired
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek
Rating: NC-17 for male/male sex, violence.
Spoilers: Season 5. Takes place after the Red and the Black. I refer to the episode Arcadia out of sequence.
Warning: Violence.
Note: I like my Krycek with one arm and my Mulder not color blind so he can fully appreciate those beautiful green eyes.
Beta Thanks: Loren Q, Aries, Clio, Zoe Takashi, Lyrical Soul. Midwife Thanks: Ness.
A special thank you to Kosh for help with an Italian accent.
Inspiration Thanks: This entire series was inspired by one scene in Aries Admission, but you'll have to read all the way into Book 2 to see how. Thank you, Aries!
Disclaimer: Krycek, Mulder, Scully, Skinner and other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. All others are mine. No infringement of rights is intended.

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