Carlton Court
He brought his arms down and rubbed them before taking a sip of coffee. Nothing was
happening tonight. It was Friday and people were probably out having fun. Fun
he should be having.
I'm kidding myself. I never have any fun.
He put
his coffee down and pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, rubbing
the bleariness away. He knew this was a stupid idea. Whothe hell did this on
their vacation?
Since he'd seen Alex Krycek six months ago in a goth club, he
hadn't been able to get him out of his mind. Mulder had followed him home and
watched him have sex with two young men. God, he wished he could've video
taped that experience. They'd been beautiful together with their sweaty,
tanned skin, the smell of sex and candles...
Mulder stopped himself from going
to where he told himself time and time again he shouldn't go, but ended up going
just the same. Thinking about Krycek just brought frustration, erections,
sticky hands, and regret.
Not regret that he'd resorted to jerking off;
regret that Krycek made him so hard. And a tiny bit of regret in the back of
his mind that he didn't join them. What was he thinking? He couldn't have
joined them. He couldn't have fucked Krycek. Could he?
He groaned and picked
up his coffee again. It was cold. He leaned over and opened the small fridge
in the corner and extracted one of the many bottlesof iced tea he had placed in
there earlier. Gulping half of the cool liquid fromthe bottle, he looked
across the street. Still nothing.
Sighing, he stood, placing the bottle on
the desk and stretched his arms again. Then he placed his hands against the
wall, stretching out his back and his legs; that felt good. He hadn't slept
much since he'd arrived, and his bones were stiff from the chair.
What the
hell was he doing here? He hated surveillance. Why was he using vacation time
to seek out a known murderer? A double-crosser? A ratbastard like
Krycek?
Mulder had seen him by fluke a couple of weeks ago while on
assignment. He'd followed him to his apartment then vowed to come back and ask
him ifhe'd killed his father. This time without Scully to get in the way.
He
closed his eyes and stretched his hamstrings. This time, he'd shove him up
against the wall and smack him around a bit before shoving his gun in his face.
"Did you kill my father? What dirty work are you doing for the smoking man?"
He'd look into those cold green eyes and get the truth out of him one way or
another. He smiled at the thought of his gun pressed up under Krycek's chin.
Krycek's eyes wide with fear, his smooth skin glistening with sweat at the
thought of dying. The same smooth skin that Mulder had seen covering taut
muscles, flexing as he drove into that young man with his dusky
cock...
Mulder's eyes snapped open and he groaned as he felt himself harden.
Why was he doing this to himself? The skin on his dick was going to wear thin
if he kept jerking off.
Looking out the window one more time revealed no
activity whatsoever, as it had been two minutes ago. What did he expect? That
Krycek would be home,just because he was being watched? Mulder had only been
here four days and had planned to be here two weeks to watch Krycek and record
every move,to discover his secrets. And when he'd discovered them, he'd
confront him.
Then what?
He wasn't really sure. He'd cross the bridge when
he came to it.
In lieu of watching Krycek, he'd gotten to know the other
people in his building. The tenants were predominantly gay, which didn't
surprise Mulder one bit. He knew Krycek had been sending him vibes when they
had worked together. Mulder would have reciprocated, but his ego wouldn't let
him. Instead, he'd pushed the junior g-man wannabee punk around, given him
gruntwork, and gotten off on the ego boost.
Krycek would look up to him, hope
in his eyes, looking for the respect he craved. Mulder would give him his stone
glare; his "I'm too sexy for the FBI"look that Krycek brought out of him for
some reason, and try to melt Krycek's inner core. And even if Krycek didn't
melt, Mulder got off on that as well.
Then Mulder had started to actually
trust the little bugger, called him his partner, and almost treated him as an
equal. Then the bastard had gone and betrayed him! He'd been working for the
smoking man all along!
Mulder shook his head. He'd been so disappointed when
he found those cigarette butts in the ashtray. Later, when he had known Krycek
had killed his father and tried to confront him, the anger had been so intense.
He'd carried that anger for so long. And just when he thought he'd never
seeKrycek again, there he was in that club. And Mulder knew he wouldn't be
able to let it go.
He looked at his watch. Eight o'clock. He was getting
hungry and seeing as nothing was happening, he decided to get something to
eat.
Dinner was uneventful, save for a lover's spat two tables over. A
woman threw her drink in a man's face. Mulder looked sympathetically at the
man dripping with Chardonnay while feeling smug inside that he'd never had
that happen to him. Not in public, anyway.
Mulder left the restaurant and
walked the street, window-shopping for awhile. The foot traffic was getting
heavy as people had started to come out for the evening.
He saw a porn store
and decided to go in to see what this city had to offer. He lingered for a
while, inspecting the latest hard core offerings, silently moving among the
other men in the store. Mulder found himself drawn to the men on men section as
he'd been lately. Since he'd seen Alex and the two young men. There were four
women giggling in the corner as they rummaged among the movies, books and
magazines, so he busied himself with a Penthouse until they left.
After the
women had abandoned the section, Mulder wandered over and picked up a few
magazines for his collection. Since he didn't have a VCR in his hotel room, he
didn't get any movies.
He left with a black plastic bag in his hand,
shielding his purchases fromothers. He walked the long way back to the hotel,
down the side street with the little caf´s and bars. Men roamed the
sidewalk, ate dinner, and had coffee together. Part of Mulder wanted to go into
the pub on the corner and sit and talk to these men. He wanted to be a part of
this.
But he continued on his way, telling himself that he was on a mission.
A mission to find the truth about Alex Krycek. How he had betrayed him, how he
had killed his father. He wondered if he had anything to do with
Scully's abduction? That last thought got his blood pumping, and he increased
his pace, quickly making his way back to the hotel and his chair in front of
thewindow.
It was 11 o'clock Saturday night, when the hotel door opened
with a snick. The drapes were closed and the lights were off, like he'd left
them an hourago. The surveillance equipment was still where it was supposed to
be.
Like it wouldn't still be here?
Mulder didn't tell the manager he
was on FBI business when he checked in. He would have charged him double on the
room. The man silently questioned the camera equipment and tripods, but Mulder
didn't say anything; same with the bellhop, who'd loaded all of it on his cart
to take up to his room. Mulder just tipped him then slammed the door in his
face.
Scully'd been surprised he was taking vacation. In the years she'd
known him, he'd never even had a sick day, save for the forays to the hospital
for work related injuries. He'd told her the FBI was making him take it, so he
was going to spend that time travelling Route 66.
She didn't buy it.
But she
didn't press him, either. Instead she'd folded her arms in front ofher chest
and looked up at him with that look his mom used to give him when he had taken
one of Samantha's cookies.
He had called her yesterday and she told him she
was catching up on some filing.
"Don't rearrange my stuff, Scully. I'll never
be able to find anything."
"Mulder, this place was a mess."
"I mean it, Scully... What do you mean was?"
Silence
"Are you sitting at my desk?"
"Where would you like me to sit, Mulder? I don't have a desk of my own."
"You're sitting at my desk, talking on my phone, and you've cleaned up, haven't you, Scully?"
"I have to go..."
"Sc..."
She hung up.
Dammit,
she knew he hated it when she tidied. Every day he'd come in and find something
put in a filing cabinet or drawer, somewhere where he couldn't find it. His
files were perfectly happy stacked on his desk, he'd told her. They liked it
there. Yet, once they were put away, he made sure he put them back in their new
home when he was finished with them, scared of what she'd do if he didn't.
When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he moved over to the camera
on the tripod before the window. Pulling the curtains open slightly, he sat
down in the chair and looked through the view finder.
The couple that lived beside Krycek's apartment were bustling around,getting ready for what looked
like a party. Both men wore only boxer shorts as they cleaned and vacuumed and
stacked the dishwasher full of glasses. The two women that lived underneath
Krycek's were making popcorn. Beside their apartment, a man was getting dressed
in the dark, seemingly unaware, or just not caring that anyone from the hotel
could see him put on his socks and underwear.
Krycek's apartment remained dark.
Mulder took off his sweater, leaving him clad in t-shirt and jeans. It
was hot in here; spring was turning into summer quickly. He opened the small
window at the bottom of the large pane of glass for ventilation, confident
Krycek couldn't see him if he wasn't home.
Cool air wafted in the window,
moving the drapes slightly. Music drifted inside along with the noise of the
traffic and the clack of the streetcar. He cracked open a fresh bottle of iced
tea, sensing he was going to be sitting here and waiting for long time.
He
reached over to the magazines he bought yesterday. There was just enough light
filtering through the small opening in the drapes so he could read. The
magazine he chose featured stills from porn movies and stories that readers had
sent in about their sexual fantasies. He immediately turned to the picture
section.
There were pictures of young men with young men, and a disclaimer
that all models were over 18 years of age. He didn't care; they were hot. One
man was riding another one while getting his dick sucked by a third. Just
like Krycek and the two men he had been with those few months ago.
Another
picture showed them sucking each other's cocks, like a triangled daisy chain.
Mulder felt himself harden rapidly, his jeans suddenly feeling toosmall. He
reached down and undid the button and zipper, reaching inside to stroke
himself.
The next picture was two of the men coming on the third's face, his
mouth open and his eyes shut, his face a mask of passion. Mulder put the
magazine down and closed his eyes, remembering Krycek and the two men.
How Krycek had looked into his eyes as he came with that soft grunt, which
was more like a sigh... Stroking himself harder, he replayed that scene over
and over in his mind until it was just a collage of faces and cocks and grunts
that sent him over the edge.
He sat there for a few minutes, before stripping
off his t-shirt and wiping the come off his hand. He'd have to be more careful;
he didn't have very many t-shirts left, unless he bought some more. Tucking his
now flaccid cock back into his jeans, he did them up and settled back into his
chair.
The music had gotten louder in the past few minutes, prompting Mulder
tolook through the camera again. The party was starting. People
began arriving, bringing drinks and food. Mulder watched them for a few
hours, dancing and drinking the night away. Halfway through the night, people
began to pair off, and a few started kissing.
Mulder sighed; he wasn't in the
mood to watch people make out, seeing as though it had been years since he'd
done the same thing.
Get a life!
He took off his jeans and socks and
was about to crawl into bed when a cheerful shout from many people was
heard.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he looked across the
street.
"It's about time."
Adrenaline shot through his veins, making his
hands shake, and making him grateful for the tripod that held the camera. Alex
Krycek had arrived and was ready to party.
Mulder watched as a few people came
up and gave Krycek a kiss on his cheek. Then a drink was handed to him. Mulder
had almost forgotten he was looking through a camera and remembered to take a
few pictures before going backto just watching.
Where had he come from?
Mulder hadn't seen him go into his apartment. The blinds were closed except for
a spot in the living room where a few plants sat on the sill. The blinds to the
bedroom were closed, but light would have shone through. If he had come in,
Mulder would have been sure to seehim.
Krycek drank his drink, and then got
another, and then another. Then he started talking to a man with blonde hair
and a leather jacket. He was moving closer to the man, backing him against the
wall, and the man didn't seem to care.
Mulder zoomed in even closer and
watched Krycek come on to the man,looking at him through his lashes and
laughing softly. He could only imagine the conversation they were having.
Suddenly, Krycek moved forward and kissed the man on the lips. The man put his
beer down and wrapped his arms around Krycek, returning the kiss for a long
time. Krycek then pulled away, nipping the man on the lower lip with his teeth
then said something. Then they turned and left the party.
Mulder focused the
camera on Krycek's apartment, his head spinning. His cock knew what was going
to happen, and hardened.
Through the opening in the blinds, Mulder saw the
silhouette of Krycek stumble through the door with the blonde. Then it was
dark.
"Shit!"
He wished he'd bugged Krycek's apartment so he could hear and
not just see what was going on.
The lights stayed off, but the blinds in the
bedroom opened. Mulder could just see them in the light from the street. He
switched to the night vision goggles, but that proved to be too distracting. He
wanted to see their naked flesh, not just shapes.
If he zoomed in close, he
could see Krycek and the man on the bed, naked, kissing each other. Their hands
were down at their groin area, probably stroking each other, Mulder couldn't be
sure.
"Fuck!"
He wanted to see this, he needed to see this, needed to see
Krycek's sweaty body moving in tandem with his partner, licking and sucking
his...
Suddenly, there was Alex Krycek, naked, pressed up against his
bedroom window. Mulder could see him from the knees up, the blonde behind
him, entering him, kissing his neck. Krycek's hands were bracing himself
against the window, his cock smearing precome on the panel of glass.
Mulder
shot off the whole roll of film watching the blonde fuck Krycek against the
window. Slow at first, then gaining strength, pinching Krycek'snipples then
going down to stroke his cock. Krycek's eyes were closed, and his mouth was
open, like the man in the magazine, shouting something he couldn't hear as his
come splattered over the man's hand and onto the window.
Then they were
still.
Mulder wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand.
He watched as they retreated back to the bed, becoming just a grey shape.
Shakily, he went over to his own bed and lay down on it, not relieving
himself of his hard-on until the events in his mind replayed time and time
again, making it unbearable, giving him no choice.
He came after a few quick
strokes then wiped himself clean with kleenex, before trying to get some sleep.
After lying awake for a few hours, Mulder got up and looked through the camera
at Krycek's apartment. The sun was coming up and light crept into the bedroom,
giving Mulder the chance to seewhat he'd been waiting for.
Krycek was by
himself in bed, curled up on his side, back towards the now clean window. A
single sheet covered his body, rising and falling with his breaths. Mulder
stared at him sleeping, somehow wanting to curl up beside him to feel his naked
body pressed against his own.
That thought's a clear indication I need a lot of sleep.
He pulled away from the camera and rubbed his eyes before crawling backinto bed.
A pounding on the door woke him a few hours later.
Bleary eyed, he dragged himself from bed, clad only in his boxer briefs. Still
exhausted, he stumbled to the door and fumbled with the lock. Finally the door
was open, and he stared unbelievingly at who was on the other side.
"Hey,
Mulder. Can I use your shower? I don't seem to have any hot water."
Mulder
stood there, looking dumbfounded at Krycek, who brushed past him.
"Thanks, I'll just be a few minutes."
Then the door to the bathroom slammed shut
leaving Mulder confused and still holding the front door to the room open.
He
stood back and let the door close. The shower started running in
the bathroom.
This has got to be a dream.
Mulder crawled back into bed
and hugged his pillow, smirking to himself that he would dream such a thing.
Alex Krycek in his shower. Naked Alex Krycekin his shower. Naked Alex Krycek
with slippery, wet skin in his shower.
His eyes snapped open. Alex Krycek
was in his shower. He sat up. This wasn't a dream. This was really
happening.
Suddenly wide-awake, he went to the bathroom and opened the door.
There indeed was Krycek in the shower behind the opaque curtain.
"I need to
shave as well, if that's okay with you. Man, it's a bitch not having any warm
water in the morning," Alex said as if they were carrying on their conversation
from the front door. "Do you have a coffee maker in this room? I could sure do
with a cup of coffee."
"What the fuck is going on here, Krycek?" Mulder
pulled the shower curtainback, suddenly finding his nerve and his voice. Water
sprayed from the shower onto him and the floor, soaking his shorts. Krycek's
back was turned, showing his tight ass, broad back and muscular legs.
Mulder swallowed; he didn't want to feel this way about Krycek, he didn't want
to want him, he didn't want to join him in the shower under the spray of
water, but he couldn't help himself.
"You're letting the water out," Kryeck
said, not turning around but reaching for the bottle of shampoo in the
corner.
Mulder closed the shower curtain and watched Krycek lather his
hair.
"You gonna take off your underwear, or do you like to wash them at the
same time?"
Mulder looked down and noticed that he was standing in the tub
wearing his briefs. He stripped them off and flung them out the side of the
curtain,where they landed with a soggy slap on the linoleum. "Did you kill my
father?"
"That's what I like about you, Mulder. You take the direct
approach."
"Well, did you?"
"Yeah, I did."
Mulder didn't know what to
say. He'd dreamed of this moment, dreamed of shoving Krycek up against the wall
with his gun pressed to the soft underside of his chin. He dreamed of slugging
him in the gut, making him fall to the floor, before he kicked him until he
begged for mercy. Instead, he was naked in a shower with him, watching him
condition his hair.
"Why?"
"Because he was going to tell you everything,
and you didn't need to know everything. If he'd told you everything, I would
have had to kill you. And I don't want to kill you."
Mulder started to say
something, but Krycek stopped him.
"He was a bad man, Mulder. He wasn't the
saint you made him out to be. Hedid horrible things to people. He was as evil
as the smoking man if not more."
Mulder started towards him, rage building up
from that comment, but then stopped. Deep down, he knew it was true. He knew
his father had held many secrets. Secrets that he wanted to learn, like the
truth about Samantha. And he knew he was a bastard; why else would he have kept
the company he had? And Mulder had tried to reach out to his father, and tried
to bond with him, but when Mulder had reached out to his father; to give him a
hug, he'd stuck out his hand instead.
He'd felt like dirt when his father had
rejected him on his front porch all those months ago. Mulder had treated his
father's death like it was some great catastrophe, when it really should have
been a relief. After Samantha had disappeared, Bill Mulder had retreated into
himself; and fought with his wife whenever they were in the same room together.
And all Fox could do was feel guilty that he was still around to remind his
parents of the fact thatshe was gone. Finding those files in that underground
bunker confirmed what he'd known all along. He was supposed have been taken,
not her...
"Mulder?"
Mulder looked up at him. "What?"
"Soap?" Krycek
handed him the bar of hotel soap.
Mulder began to wash himself. "How did you
know I was here?"
"I've been watching you."
His head jerked up to meet
Krycek's gaze. "You've been watching me?"
"Watching you watching
me."
Mulder was dumbfounded. He traded places with Krycek so he could rinse.
"Why were you watching me watching you?"
"We've been watching each other for
the same reason. We get off on each other." Krycek moved closer.
Mulder
could feel the heat radiate off his body. He knew Krycek was right; he'd been
thinking of nothing else since that night at the goth club. Krycek moved
closer, until Mulder could feel his hard cock poke him in the abdomen. Mulder
didn't look down, but he felt himself stiffen at the contact.
"Let's put all
the bullshit behind us for a while and take what we want." Heran his fingers
over Mulder's slick skin.
Now clean, Mulder turned and shut the water off.
When he turned back, he grabbed Krycek's hand and forced it from his body before
slamming him up against the tiled wall as best he could, being slippery from the
shower. He glared at Krycek for a minute, fist ready to punch, but instead of
slugging him, he kissed him hard.
Krycek returned the kiss with a nibble on
the corner of Mulder's mouth and a swipe of his tongue. Mulder wasn't letting
him take charge, however. He flung open the shower curtain and dragged the
soaking wet Krycek to the bedroom, where he pushed him down onto the
bed.
Mulder looked down at his enemy, at this man who had betrayed him,
and melted into a puddle. He was beautiful with his dark hair and green eyes
and fit body. The bangs that flopped down on his forehead gave him
the appearance that he was somehow younger than he was. But now that Mulder had
him, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with him.
He must have been
looking down at him for a long time, because a hand came up to stroke his cheek
and Mulder noticed Krycek had a worried look on his face. Mulder let himself be
rolled over on his back so Krycek could straddle him. With all his convictions
and plans thrown out the window, Mulder placed himself in Krycek's
hands.
Krycek started by kissing him gently, his tongue probing forward,
dancing with his own. Then the mouth left his and traveled down to his neck
then his chest where his nipples were teased and brought to extreme hardness
by Krycek's talented tongue. Lower he went until he was at Mulder's groin.
Wantonly, Mulder spread his legs, not giving a shit about who was doing thisto
him; it just felt that good.
His cock was licked and sucked, and he was
brought to near completion more than once. Then Krycek was over him, both of
their cocks in his hand, stroking them both. Mulder leaned back into the
pillows; he was going to come, he could feel the pull at the base of his balls
and up his spine. He was going to come from Alex Krycek pulling on his cock,
which, at this instant,felt better than doing it to himself.
With a groan, he
released his fluid over Krycek's hand and onto his own belly. A minute later,
Krycek made the noise that he'd made with the two young men; and spilled himself
into the pool of come that was already there.
Totally exhausted, Mulder lay
there, limp and dazed, while Krycek cleaned him up and lay down beside him.
Mulder heard talking, felt a kiss on his forehead, and then he was asleep.
He
woke many hours later, twilight coming in through the small opening in
thecurtains. Mulder sat up and looked around; Krycek was gone. He looked
at the clock; he'd slept all day. He went to the camera and looked through
the viewfinder and saw what he expected. Krycek's apartment was empty. So was
the camera.
"Dammit!"
Mulder sighed and sat back on the bed. He was so
stupid, he should have done something, he should have arrested him, he should
have...
"I should have fucked him!"
He shook his head and thought he might
as well get packed, because who knew where Krycek would be right now. He went
to the washroom and relieved himself and saw a message on the mirror, written in
soap.
"We have to save something for next time."
Next time! Would there be
a next time? How would they find each other? He sat there for a few minutes
before putting on a pair of underwear.
Yeah, there'd be a next
time.
Voyeur III
by Nicole S
Mulder leaned back in the sling-type
hunting chair and stretched his arms over his head. He was getting tired, and
his bones ached. His head also hurt. He'd been sitting in this hotel room for
days watching the apartment across the street. Watching for Krycek.
