Gliding closer on silent cat feet, Krycek slowly started to unbutton his
black shirt. The loosening flaps of the garment revealed a brief flash of
skin as each button parted from its loop. The tease continued when Alex
released the last button, but didn't remove the shirt. Instead, he toed off
his boots and socks with amazing grace and dexterity, managing to look sexy
instead of ridiculous.
Mulder opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but a shake of Alex's head
had him closing it again. He bent one arm behind his head and lay back to
enjoy the show. Alex's smirk seem to say, "I knew you couldn't resist
this..."
Alex undid his cuffs, still leaving the shirt on, then moved his hands down
his belly. Sliding his long fingers along the slight muscular curve, he
dipped into the waistband of his jeans. As his fingers completely
disappeared under the dark fabric, his thumbs popped the metal button open.
The slow spread of his hands brought the zipper down, leaving a dark cotton
covered bulge visible.
Withdrawing his hands, Alex turned his back. He gave Mulder a good view of
his very fine ass as he pulled the back of his shirt from the waistband.
Shirt slipping off one shoulder, Alex looked back at Mulder with a smile
that would have been coquettish if not for the mischievous, somewhat
predatory gleam shining out from under the thick black lashes. Turning
leisurely, he let the garment slide down his arms to land in a heap on the
floor. Facing Mulder in nothing but open jeans, Alex blinked lazily, like a
big cat on the prowl, his pink tongue flicking out delicately across a full
lower lip.
Mulder swallowed hard, wanting to feel that tongue somewhere else entirely.
He dropped a hand to the erection tenting his shorts, and his eyes to its
counterpart in the frame of Alex's jeans. He bit his lip to stifle a groan
as Alex —finally— pulled his jeans down to reveal tight black boxerbriefs
that hugged a very impressive package.
Alex moved closer and knelt beside Mulder placing a soft kiss on his
stomach, then on a nipple, while pushing his fingers under the elastic of
Mulder's boxers. Taking his lover's cock in hand, Alex stripped the boxers
away and lowered his head. Just before his mouth made contact with Mulder's
throbbing flesh, Alex turned his head slightly and spoke for the first time.
"Mulder, it's me."
Mulder shook his head, because, although he saw Alex's lips move, the voice
wasn't right. He started to speak, but the voice came again saying, "Come
on Mulder, pick up. I know you're there—it's 1:30 in the morning."
What...? Scully? Mulder cursed as he woke fully and his dream lover
disappeared back into the mists of his subconscious.
"Mulder, pick up the phone!" Scully's voice was coming from the answering
machine and sounding more and more annoyed.
Pulling his hand from his shorts, he picked up the phone and said, "You just
wrecked a spectacular dream, so this had better be good."
"Spare me the details. It's not good, but it is important. AD Kersh just
called me. He's sending us to Alaska."
Mulder cursed colorfully. "For how long?"
"He said as long as it takes."
Mulder felt a brief flash of panic. Alex was coming home soon and Mulder
had to be there. He didn't want to take a chance on missing him. "As long
as it takes to do what? Can't he send somebody else?"
Scully sighed and said, "Yes, I'm sure he could, but he wants us to go. He
would only say that we'll find out when we get there."
"Damn, I hate it when he's coy." Mulder thought for a moment before quietly
admitting, "I don't want to go, Scully."
"What was that?" Scully had good reason to sound incredulous, Mulder
thought.
"This is not a good time for me to leave town."
"Mulder, we don't get to choose... Is this about Alex? You think it's too
soon in the relationship to be away?"
"There's not really a relationship yet. I just don't want to miss the
opportunity to start one."
"Your friend will surely understand that your job is an integral part of who
you are. If he's worthy of you, he should understand," Scully firmly
stated.
Mulder smiled and realized, once again, why Scully's friendship was so
vitally important to him. She may occasionally give him grief or tear apart
one of his pet theories, but she always defended and supported him when the
odds were against him and the stakes were high. Great, now I'm thinking
in gambling metaphors. What am I going to do? "What am I going to do?"
"I don't know what you can do."
Mulder frowned when Scully answered what he thought was a mental question.
He could hear the compassion in her voice, so he said, "Yeah, you have a
point. When do we leave?"
"We're booked on a 6 a.m. flight from National."
"I'll pick you up. And Scully? Thanks."
"For what?"
"For understanding? For friendship above and beyond the call of duty."
"Do I get a merit badge for that?"
"Nope. See you." Mulder hung up the phone and debated whether to change
the message on his answering machine to somehow let Alex know he was out of
town. He finally decided that information did not need to be shared with
anyone who happened to dial his number. He hoped that if Krycek did call he
would understand that Mulder's absence could not have been avoided.
Mulder unlocked his door, still angry that he and Scully had flown all the
way to Alaska only to find the case had already been solved. They had been
ordered to get right back on the next plane to D.C. After countless hours
in the air and in airports, he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to
settle onto his own comfy couch. He wondered if he could call in sick on
the basis of not wanting to move for awhile. Stillness held strong appeal
for him at the moment.
He had taken three steps into the dark apartment when he realized not only
was he not alone, but the intruder was lying on his couch. The situation
felt like a twisted version of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" except
that was no blonde-haired child sleeping on his sofa. It was a full grown
adult, cocooned in a blanket, bare feet sticking out of one end and a shock
of dark hair sticking out of the other.
Mulder set his bag down silently and drew his gun, advancing on the
apparently sleeping person. He circled around in front of the coffee table
getting a good look at the feet as he passed them. They looked rather male
to him, as did the large, sturdy hand clutching the blanket.
Mulder stood back a safe distance from the sofa and said loudly, "Wake up!
Slowly raise your hands where I can see them. Do not give me an excuse to
shoot you."
A low groan sounded as the blanket was slowly pulled away from the visitor's
face. Mulder winced at the sight of Alex Krycek's battered face. The black
eye was starting to fade to a sickly brownish yellow, but the bruise on the
jaw was still black and deep purple. The split lip also looked fresh, red
and swollen.
"Mulder, don't shoot... I'd raise my hands, but I think I've got a cracked
rib," said Krycek in low raspy voice that made Mulder ache to hear it.
"Al— Krycek? What happened to you?" Mulder lowered his gun, placing it on
the coffee table as he sat on the edge. He peered closely at the man who
had haunted his thoughts, dreams, and phone machine for so long. Krycek
didn't look much like a dangerous killer at the moment.
"I had a bad day at work. Several of them, actually. Here's where I'm
supposed to say 'you should see the other guy', but there were twelve of
them and they're all dead so..." Alex cleared his throat, then flinched as
if the pain were intense.
Reaching out, Mulder pulled the blanket down to reveal dark bruises in a
smudgy fingerprint pattern contrasting starkly with the pale skin of Alex's
neck. He brushed a gentle fingertip over the angry flesh, murmuring, "Damn
Alex, what have you been up to this time?"
"You ever consider that I might be an innocent victim?"
"No, not really. But I won't ask any more questions except one. Where else
are you hurt?"
"It would be easier to say what doesn't hurt."
Mulder tossed the blanket over the back of the couch, revealing the length
of Alex's body clad in nothing but boxer shorts and colorful contusions.
Fist sized marks decorated his torso while a boot shaped bruise spread over
his left thigh, the treads leaving livid impressions in the firm muscular
flesh. Like the ones on his face, the injuries on his body seemed to be of
different ages, suggesting two separate beatings.
Skimming a hand lightly over Alex's flank, Mulder swallowed hard and said,
"So what doesn't hurt?"
"My hair." Mulder nodded and ran his fingers through the damp lock falling
over Alex's forehead, then smoothed the tousled spikes sticking out in all
directions. It was just as thick and silky as Mulder had thought it would
be. Ignoring the faint amusement in Alex's eyes, he continued his stroking
for another minute, watching Alex relax into the cushions with sensual
abandon.
Closing his eyes on a sigh, Alex whispered, "My feet don't hurt... much."
Mulder smiled slightly and scooted down to the other end of the table. He
picked up one bare foot and began massaging it. He firmly stroked the high
elegant arch with his fingers while his thumbs smoothed the baby soft skin
of the instep. As he rubbed the toes, giving each little piggy individual
attention, Mulder leaned down and placed his lips against Alex's bony ankle.
For a moment, he fancied he could feel the other man's pulse beating through
the almost delicate skin.
With a wordless sound of contentment, Alex nudged Mulder with his other
foot. Reminded of his neglect, Mulder took the other foot in hand and gave
it the same thorough treatment. Alex's feet were long and narrow, with the
kind of calluses that came from martial arts training. They were also very
clean, which led Mulder to wonder if he'd find wet towels in his bathroom,
or if Krycek had somehow managed to take a shower without leaving any
evidence behind.
The rubbing became automatic as Mulder's eyes drifted up Alex's long legs
and his mind went in a dozen directions at once. He wondered what on earth
he was doing, and yet couldn't find it in himself to stop. He worried about
what looked like concrete burns on Alex's knees, but refused to ask what had
happened to him. His hands stilled as he said, "Alex, are those my shorts
you're wearing?"
"Mmm, too tired to get dressed after the shower...seemed easiest thing to
do... couldn't lie here naked."
"That certainly would have been a homecoming I'd never forget. Maybe next
time?" Mulder asked with a hopeful grin.
Alex cracked open one eye and tried to smile back, but the movement pulled
his cut lip. He let out a little groan, and whispered, "You should be so
lucky, G-man."
"Lucky, huh? If I have any, it's strange luck."
Alex snorted and said, "Better than being mediocre and boring. That,
you'll never be, Mulder."
Mulder glanced over the length of Krycek's body and nodded at the obvious
erection trying to escape the borrowed boxers. "Neither will you, Alex.
Always full of surprises."
"You're rubbing all over me, Mulder... a dream come true. Of course I'm
gonna get hard." He closed his eyes again, sighing, "That's what you do to
me."
Mulder couldn't help being suspicious that Krycek would give him such power.
Then he realized that the bizarre dance they had been doing for the last few
weeks—no, the last few years— had totally screwed up any balance of
power they may have had. He was just as helpless against the pull of
attraction as Alex apparently was, so he decided to stop fighting it.
Bending close, Mulder brushed his lips lightly against the uninjured corner
of Alex's mouth, brought his hand to Alex's crotch, and whispered, "What
about here? Does this hurt?"
"No, that's more of an ache," gasped Alex, twitching all over as Mulder's
hand folded around his hardness. "What are you gonna do about it?"
"What should I do? Massage away the stiffness?" With a sly little smile,
Mulder pulled the shorts down Alex's thighs and took the long hard cock in a
firm, experienced grip. All the while, he kept his eyes on those of the man
who might possibly be his next lover. Lover? Well, at the very least an
interesting one-night stand. No going back now. You've got his cock in
your hand so make the most of it. At least there's plenty to work with!
Mulder held back the laugh that bubbled in his throat, doubtful that Alex
would find his crazy thought patterns amusing at such an intimate moment.
Although knowing Alex and his sense of humor, he just might laugh his ass
off.
"Come on, Fox-don't-call-me-that. You're not gonna leave me here with my
engine revved up and the transmission still in park, are you?" Alex's
hoarse, husky voice, nearly broken with need, reminded Mulder that he had
been sitting there holding his lover's steely erection while his mind
circled around nonsensical thoughts.
"No, Alex. Let's put it in drive." While one hand rubbed Alex's cock in a
slow sensual rhythm, the other stroked upward along an uninjured section of
inner thigh, drawing a low moan as Mulder's fingertips grazed the sensitive
perineum. Gently rolling Alex's balls between nimble fingers, Mulder
continued massaging the needy, dripping cock in his other hand. He slipped
his thumb over the head, gathering and spreading the pre-come around to
lubricate his movements.
When Mulder's gaze returned to the battered yet still beautiful face of his
newest obsession, his chest tightened at the sparkle of unshed tears in
shadowed eyes. He wondered if Alex had any idea how much he was showing
right now and if it was intentional. Fox couldn't seem to hold onto his
usual cynicism where this man was concerned. He wanted to believe... He
wanted to believe that Alex Krycek was for real.
Unwilling to reveal more of his own feelings than was probably safe, Mulder
looked away from those eyes, focusing on his hands bringing Alex so close to
completion. "I should kiss it and make it better," he murmured as he ducked
his head and took the pulsing cock between his lips, sucking gently.
Exhilarating in his first taste of Alex, Mulder gave the other man all he
had— all his admittedly rusty skills, all his pent-up passion, all his
needy frustrated desire.
With a low groan, Alex arched his hips and came into Mulder's mouth, gifting
his lover with his salty-sweet essence.
As Mulder swallowed quickly then licked the sensitized flesh clean, he felt
a hand lightly rest on top of his head. He glanced up as Krycek's scraped
and swollen knuckles brushed his cheek on their downward slide to land on
Alex's belly.
With a weary attempt at a half smile, Alex whispered, "That was really
great, but some codeine would also be nice."
"I'll see if I have anything left from my last trip to the hospital."
Ignoring his own arousal, Mulder fixed Alex's boxers and covered him with
the blanket, then started out of the room.
Alex spoke up. "Already checked the cabinet in the bathroom... didn't find
anything useful."
"That's because I keep the drugs in the kitchen," said Mulder as he stopped
in the doorway, turning to look back at the man on his sofa.
Alex settled his head into the throw pillow and closed his eyes. "Of
course. Keeping medicine in the medicine cabinet is just too expected,
isn't it? Never be ordinary, Fox-don't-call-me-that."
"So you've told me." Shaking his head, Mulder walked into the kitchen to
get a glass of water and check his medical supplies. Finding half a bottle
of Demerol that was still pretty fresh, Mulder returned to find his guest
sleeping.
Leaving water and two pills on the table for Alex to find should he wake,
Mulder went to take a shower and relieve the erection currently trying to
break out of his pants. Alex was in no shape to deal with it right now, but
Mulder's arousal was reaching critical mass.
After a hot shower and a jerk-off that left him vaguely unsatisfied, Mulder
looked in on Alex who was sleeping soundly, then went to bed. He resented
the loss of his couch and TV, but couldn't bring himself to wake Alex and
make him move to the bed when the guy was in such bad shape. Alex's feet
had kicked free of the covers, and Mulder tucked the blanket around them.
He wondered if Alex would still be there in the morning or if he would make
a quick recovery and be gone with the dawn.
After tossing and turning for what seemed like endless hours, Mulder finally
dropped off into a light sleep. When a cool, bare body sliding under the
sheet awakened him, his first thought was how real this particular dream
felt, even more than his last Alex-dream...the stripping dream. Yeah,
that was good one. Damn that phone call. Mulder sighed and waited to see
where this one would go, hoping for a climactic resolution this time.
He lay there tingling with anticipation, but nothing happened. Just as he
wondered if he should get things moving himself, a warm breath blew across
his shoulder as a hand slipped onto his abdomen. A long, hairy leg brushed
against his as his bedmate tried to get more comfortable. Choosing to take
control of his dream, Mulder turned to his companion. He tried to take him
in his arms, but pulled back when a groggy, gasping voice said, "Damn, that
hurt! If you want to kill me, there're more humane ways of doing it."
'Hurt'? Alex? Mulder drew back in confusion. It wasn't a dream this
time. Alex was really in his bed...with him. His dream come true was more
like a nightmare because, now that he was finally here, Alex was in no shape
to actually do anything. He almost groaned at the irony. Craving Alex's
body, having it so close and yet being unwilling to cause him more pain was
an exquisite agony.
"Sorry, Alex. I thought I was still asleep," mumbled Mulder apologetically.
"Uh huh. I couldn't get comfortable on the couch even with the pills. I
thought—hoped— you wouldn't mind."
"No, of course not. I'm..." Mulder paused and cleared his throat. "I'm
glad you're here."
"It's much better than the alternative, that's for sure." Alex sighed in
the darkness and rubbed his fingers across Mulder's stomach. "I thought
about you while I was gone. When things were particularly not good, I'd
imagine you here in this cave you call home, watching videos and spanking
the monkey to thoughts of me..."
Mulder bit back a laugh at the accuracy of Alex's vision, and said,
"Speaking of your out of— country?— trip..."
"You don't wanna know."
"Well, while you were gone, how did you send me the packages?"
"You liked those, did you?"
"Yeah, how did you mail them? Were you in Baltimore all this time? That's
what the postmark was."
"No, I had a friend post them for me. Are you satisfied?"
"A friend?" Mulder asked skeptically.
Krycek's sigh sounded very tired as he said, "I do have friends, you know.
Hardly anyone is totally alone in the world. Not even bad guys like me."
"Sorry. 'A friend in Baltimore' seems like such a mundane concept for you.
What kind of friend is this person? Male, female, casual, intimate?"
"He's been a very good friend for a lot of years. And he's not involved in
anything shady. He's just a regular guy."
Mulder did laugh that time and asked, "What, is he an accountant or
insurance salesman or something?"
"Nope, he's in law enforcement, Nosey Man," replied Alex with a dopey grin.
As his lashes slowly lowered, he muttered, "I think the pills are finally
kicking in."
"Okay, just go to sleep. It's late." Mulder pulled the covers up over
Alex's naked shoulder with a lingering caress.
"Fox... do you mind if I get a little closer? I'm still cold and you're so
warm."
"Sure, I'll be more careful this time," assured Mulder as he carefully
pulled Alex into his arms, snuggling the heavier man against his chest. He
stroked his back in a soothing rhythm, and fell asleep wondering what would
happen next.
Physical Evidence
by Amy B
Mulder had just dozed off on the couch when his front door opened. He
opened his eyes to observe his visitor slink into the room. By the dim
light of the lamp and the blue glow of the TV, he watched, speechless, as
Alex Krycek casually removed his black leather jacket, hanging it neatly on
the coat rack. He then removed his shoulder holster and hung it up, too.
