He'd hurt Walter's feelings, he knew he had, and that added to his misery.
He was a horrible person, his suffering a punishment from a vindictive god
he'd never believed in.
What had started out as a mild discomfort on Tuesday was, by Friday
evening, excruciating. It hurt to walk, and sitting was out of the
question.
He'd avoided making weekend plans, using vague excuses of family
obligations. He couldn't very well use work as an excuse since his lover
was also his boss, so family, though farfetched, was it.
Mulder fully intended to spend the weekend in solitary misery, wallowing.
So it was with mixed feelings that he found a very naked Alex Krycek
soaking amidst miles of bubbles in his tub when he entered his apartment on
Friday evening.
Now on the one hand, Alex Krycek, naked or otherwise, tended to make Mulder
and his cock stand up happily and take notice. On the other hand, he'd just
managed to ditch one lover and was in no mood, not to mention condition,
for another. Especially not one as enthusiastically exuberant as Alex. Back
on the first hand, a naked Alex in his tub meant a live Alex, and that was
definitely a plus. But, no matter how missed, how enticing, how utterly,
wetly delicious this wayward Tonto, it simply was not a good time. No way.
Not tonight, dear.
Mulder sighed—he did that a lot around Krycek—and put all his love,
confusion and consternation into one simple question: "What the fuck are
you doing here, Krycek?"
Krycek didn't mind a little testiness. He was used to it. It added spice to
an already spicy relationship, and Alex was of the 'if a little is good, a
lot is better' school of lovemaking. He rarely allowed his feelings to get
hurt. So instead of answering surly with surly, he merely grinned and took
a drink from the bottle of lemon-flavored vodka standing beside the tub.
"Bad week?" he asked.
Mulder sighed again and started to knock his head against the door jam.
"Alex," he said finally, "this is not a good time."
The wet assassin narrowed his eyes. "If Skinner's got plans for your ass,"
he said, rising out of the bubbles, "he'll just have to take a number and
stand in line." He stepped out of the tub and stalked toward his intended
victim. Mulder really had no choice, no place to go. He was cornered in his
own bathroom.
"Alex, no," he managed before he was overwhelmed by a one-armed wet thug
clad only in bubbles and brandishing a raging erection.
He could've protested the wet bubbles on his Armani. He could've simply
admitted to his physical condition. He could've a lot of things, but a
naked, determined Krycek was not easily denied. It'd been a long time,
weeks in fact, and the kiss tasted so good and Alex was so naked and Mulder
was so hard and the hands roaming his body felt so incredibly good... until
the hands roaming his chest and shoulders and back worked their way down
his ass and —the sheer blinding pain tore a scream from his throat that
could in no way be confused with passion.
Alex stopped, appalled. "Fox! What's wrong, what happened?"
Mulder, crazed with pain, backed out of the bathroom, intent only on
escaping the tormentor who kept coming at him. So Fox kept retreating until
he backed into the corner of his nightstand and another shriek of agony was
torn from him.
"Mulder!" cried Alex, grabbing his shoulders.
"Oh, god, it hurts. It hurts," Mulder sobbed.
"What hurts? Were you wounded? What's wrong? What's he done to you? I'll
kill him, the motherfucker. What's he done?" Alex was screaming, shaking
Mulder who was sobbing in agony.
"Nothing," he managed finally. "It's not Skinner. He doesn't know, it's not
his fault."
"Then what, Fox? What's wrong?" Alex was almost sobbing himself with worry.
"I've got," Mulder began, blushing.
"What? Oh, god!" said Alex, thinking the worst.
"Oh, Alex. It hurts. Don't laugh at me, it really hurts."
"I wouldn't laugh at you, Fox. What's wrong? What is it, baby?"
Mulder looked through his tears at the concerned face of his lover. "I have
a pimple," he said in a whisper. "On my ass." Imploring look. Begging Alex
not to laugh. "It really hurts."
Alex could only look at him stunned. Trying really, really hard to keep his
lips from twitching. "A pimple?"
Mulder nodded.
"Let me see."
"No," Mulder said. "It's ugly. Just," he closed his eyes and let the misery
overwhelm him, "just go away, Alex."
"No." Determined, naked assassin confronted miserable, vulnerable agent.
"Let me see."
With the look of a man who'd rather face a firing squad, Fox Mulder slowly
undid his trousers, turned his back and gingerly lowered them.
"Oh my god," said Alex Krycek in a reverent voice. "Mulder," he said,
"that's not a pimple."
Mulder craned his head back to look. "What do you mean it's not a pimple?
What the hell else could it be?"
"Lay down," Krycek directed, ignoring the question. His tone brooked no
denial, so Mulder complied. "It isn't a pimple," Alex repeated. "It's a
boil. And I think you've really pissed it off."
"What do you mean?"
"It looks angry. Has Scully had a look at this?"
"No!" Mulder was horrified at the thought.
"Well, I think she should. It's really," Alex looked at Mulder. "It's
really ugly, Mulder."
Before Mulder could reply, there was a noise at the door. Mulder shrieked
and fled to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door. Krycek, still
naked, grabbed for the gun he'd stashed under the mattress and slithered
into the living room to confront the intruder, Walter Skinner.
"Son of a bitch!" Skinner said. "I should have known you were the reason
he's been acting spooky."
Krycek smirked and uncocked the gun. "Nope," he said. "I just got here.
Seems Mulder has a medical condition."
"What do you mean?" Concern overriding the anger.
"It's something he didn't want either one of us to know about."
"Oh, god! What?"
"Mulder," Alex couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice any longer, "has
a butt boil."
"A butt boil?"
"Yeah. A boil on his butt. It really hurts." At Skinner's uncomprehending
look he added, "It's ugly, too. Really. Ugly."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Understanding came quickly. Mulder's vanity was well known. "And
now he's hiding in the bathroom."
Skinner snorted, then looked his former employee up and down. Krycek's
erection, which had faded to half-mast, blossomed under the scrutiny.
"Well," Skinner said, "you seem fully functional."
"Fully."
"Glad to see I didn't do any permanent damage."
Alex shook his head at the memory of their last meeting. "You handled that
belt like a pro. Obviously not your first endeavor."
"Flattery, Krycek? Doesn't seem your style."
"Oh, I gotta admire a job well done. Pride in workmanship and all that."
Skinner just shook his head and didn't deign to reply. "Do you have any
suggestions for getting him out of the bathroom?"
"Yeah. You can fuck me through the wall. I'll yell a lot and he'll think
you're hurting me and come to the rescue." Krycek's smirk widened into a
full-fledged grin as Skinner's own erection became evident, tenting his
suit pants.
"Sounds like a plan," the AD said, shucking his jacket and pulling loose
his tie.
Krycek snagged supplies from the night table and handed them off to
Skinner. They were both naked by the time they reached Mulder's fortress.
Skinner suddenly slammed Alex hard against the wall, making it shake.
"Fuck!" Krycek yelled, honestly surprised.
"You sorry little son of a bitch! You expect me to buy a cockamamie story
like that? I was born at night, boy, but I wasn't born last night." He
pulled Alex toward him and kissed him fiercely, broke it off and abruptly
turned and slammed him face first back into the wall.
"God dammit!" Alex protested.
"Where's Mulder, asshole? You've got two minutes to talk before I start
pulling off limbs, and you don't have too many to spare."
"Don't!" Alex yelled as he pushed his hips out toward Walter, giving him
better access and a good angle.
Walter continued to curse him while rolling on a condom and lubing up. He
inserted two greased fingers abruptly into Alex, causing a gasp and a
groan. He sawed in and out, scissoring, loosening Krycek's oh-so-inviting
ass. "Motherfucker," said Skinner in a guttural growl when he entered the
assassin's willing body, really getting into the part. "Gonna make you
scream, motherfucker, gonna make you holler."
Obediently, Alex yelped and kept yelping while Skinner pounded into him,
hard and fast. The AD grinned at Krycek's performance. While the logical
part of his mind appreciated that the vocals were due more to Alex' acting
ability than his own prowess, the other part—the part that believed he was
a conquering warrior—responded with a wordless roar.
"Oh god oh god oh god," from Alex as he worked himself in time to Skinner's
pounding, face, shoulders and chest smashed hard against the wall. He gave
a gut-wrenching screech as he came, which Skinner followed with another
guttural roar.
"Walter, stop!" cried Fox, lurching out of the bathroom. "You know he
wouldn't... " he stopped, taking in the obvious post-coitus tableau, ... "hurt
me... Alex, you slut!" His voice dipped to a whisper, "Walter, how could you?"
"We were just trying to get you to come out of the bathroom, Fox," Alex
said in his best wheedling voice, smashed even harder against the wall with
Skinner's boneless weight on him.
"You couldn't knock?"
Skinner stood upright then, slipping out of Alex and carefully peeling the
condom off. He gave the still-panting thug a cheerful slap on the ass,
saying "Well, that certainly took the edge off," before turning to Mulder.
Fox began to retreat back into the bathroom when Skinner growled, "Close
that door again and I'll rip it off the hinges."
Fox stopped and did his famous glare/pout while Skinner moved past him and
deposited the used condom in the bathroom trash. He gave his own yelp when
Skinner cuffed him on the back of the head. "I don't like being lied to,
boy. Now get out of those clothes and let me see what all this fuss is
about."
"No. Can't you two just leave me alone and go play together?"
Skinner cuffed him again. "I assure you, Mulder, I can take your mind off
the pain in your ass, and you're guaranteed not to like it. Now stop being
a pain in mine and get your clothes off."
Mulder crumpled. "I hate this," he groused, once again gingerly lowering
his pants. He stood like a small boy waiting for dad and the switch, pants
puddled over his shoes, shirttail protecting his modesty. Skinner cuffed
him again.
"Knock off the martyr act, Mulder. Just get naked and go stretch out on the
bed."
"I hate you," Mulder said, toeing off his shoes. He hurt, dammit, and the
two people who supposedly loved him the most were being horrible to him. It
wasn't just the Consortium conspiring against him; the entire universe was
in on it. He'd become a cosmic joke.
He made his way to the bed, trailing clothes as he went. Alex was already
on it, cleaning himself off by the simple act of scooping splurts of semen
from his belly and chest and licking them off his fingers.
"Slut," he told Alex when his green-eyed lover offered him a dollop. Alex
grinned and shrugged, chuckling at Mulder's groan when he deep-throated his
own fingers.
Mulder threw himself face down on the bed, pulling a pillow over his head.
If he ignored them long enough, maybe they'd go away. Maybe.
"Good God, look at that!" Skinner looked down at Mulder's boil in awe. He
plucked the pillow off the invalid's head. "Welcome to middle age, Fox.
Where do you keep the drawing salve?"
Mulder twisted his neck to look up at him. "What's drawing salve? And are
you telling me that this is normal?"
"Well, not abnormal, certainly. Although I have to admit that I've never
had one this big." Mulder groaned again and grabbed the pillow to cover his
head. Skinner began to dress.
"I told you he needs to see a doctor," piped Krycek. "Call Scully."
"I'm not going to call Scully!" Skinner looked horrified.
"Why not?"
"It wouldn't be appropriate," Skinner answered with as much dignity as he
could standing barefoot and shirtless in front of two naked men, "for me to
discuss something of this nature about a subordinate with another
subordinate."
"You mean you don't... " Krycek trailed off, then recovered with a, "want to
have to explain to Scully how you know about Mulder's butt boil."
"Yeah, something like that," Skinner mumbled, blushing and not noticing
Krycek's attempt to keep a straight face. He opened the nightstand drawer
once he finished dressing. "Just checking to see if anything's needed," he
said, misinterpreting Krycek's smirk. "As long as I'm going to a drug
store." He sat beside Mulder to put on his shoes and then told Krycek, "You
call Scully if it'll make you feel better." He stared at Mulder's ass for a
moment. "It is big."
"And ugly," Alex added helpfully.
"And ugly," Skinner agreed. Dressed, he stood to go. "Stay out of trouble,
boys. I'll be back shortly."
Alex lifted the pillow off Mulder's head as soon as he was sure Skinner was
gone. "Oh, you're gonna be in such trouble, Mulder."
"Why?" Mulder said to the mattress. "It's not my fault."
"Skinner doesn't know Scully knows? Even I know Scully knows, and I don't
know shit."
"Oh, you know everything, Alex. Stop playing coy." Mulder groped for the
pillow, but Alex held it away from him.
"Does Scully know Skinner doesn't know she knows?"
"No," mumbled.
"I wouldn't want to be in your pants when he finds out. You won't be able
to sit for weeks." He reached over Mulder for the phone.
"Who the hell are you calling?"
"Scully. This looks really evil, and I want to make sure it won't infect
your brain or something."
"Where's my gun?" Mulder asked, just as Alex dropped the pillow back on his
head.
Alex hit the speed dial and held his breath. He didn't look forward to
having to talk to Dana Scully. Although he and Mulder, and Skinner for that
matter, had worked out their problems somewhat, Scully would still rather
shoot him as look at him. He physically jumped when she answered the phone.
"Uh, Scully? Dana?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Alex, Scully. Don't hang up."
"Krycek? You rat bastard! How dare you... "
"It's about Mulder, Scully. He's got this... thing... and it really hurts...
and
it's huge... and... I'm just worried. I'll just feel better if you know about
it."
"Oh, my God! What is it? Where are you?"
"We're at Mulder's, and it's... well, Walter doesn't think it's serious, but
it is big."
"Where is Walter? I want to talk with him."
"Uh, he went out for something called 'drawing salve.'"
"Drawing salve? What the hell does Mulder have?"
"A boil."
"That's it? You scare me to death for a boil?" Her voice rose in pitch.
"You make me talk to you for a boil?"
"Well, uh, it's really big. And red. And ugly. Really ugly."
"It can't be that bad, or Mulder would have said something."
"It's on his butt. I think he was embarrassed."
There was silence on the line for a moment. "Ah. A butt boil, I see. I
don't suppose he'd talk to me?"
"I don't think so. He's hiding under a pillow."
She snorted. "Well, drawing salve is good. It has analgesic properties,
too, so that'll make him more comfortable. Hot compresses, if he can stand
them. Don't squeeze it, whatever you do."
"No shit. He goes through the ceiling if you touch it."
"How big is it?"
"Smaller than a tennis ball. Bigger than a jawbreaker."
"Ouch!"
"Yeah."
"Are there any red streaks coming away from it?"
"No. That's the first thing I looked for."
"Well, good. How long has he had it?"
Alex picked the pillow off Mulder's head again. "Fox. How long have you had
this?"
Fox glared up at him. "All my life." When Alex just kept looking at him, he
said, "Tuesday. It started Tuesday."
"Since Tuesday," Alex said into the phone.
"It may be about ready to pop, then," Scully said. "Just be sure you don't
try to help it along. You could send the infection into his body. Just keep
hot compresses on it if he'll let you. Otherwise, smear the salve on and
let nature do her stuff. And why the hell didn't Skinner call me and make
you go to the store?"
"Uh, Assistant Director Skinner didn't think it would be appropriate for
him to call a subordinate about another subordinate's personal medical
condition."
More silence on the line. "Skinner doesn't know I know?"
"Uh-uh."
"Oooh. Mulder's gonna be in such trouble!"
"Better him than me. So, what do we do when it breaks?"
"Just hot compresses until all the gunk's out. Then peroxide in it."
"Okay. Compresses and peroxide I can handle. Uh, thanks." Alex didn't quite
know how to end the call.
Another silence. "I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to Alex Krycek
about a zit on Mulder's ass," she said finally before hanging up.
Alex set the phone back down and picked up the pillow. "Don't worry, buddy.
I'm going to fix you right up."
Mulder groaned and fished for another pillow.
The groans that greeted Skinner when he returned to Mulder's apartment made
him think that Alex was right to call Scully. Mulder sounded like a man in
torment. His heart lurched at the sound of his lover in pain.
"I've got something that should help," he began as he walked into the
bedroom. The sight that greeted him would have pissed him off if it weren't
so hot. Mulder on his side, held up by Alex' washcloth-filled right hand on
his ass, with Alex' greedy mouth devouring Mulder's blood-filled cock.
Mulder's zit wasn't the only thing getting ready to erupt.
The sight of Krycek's own erection merrily keeping time with the bobbing of
his head made Skinner salivate, drying up any thoughts of protest. He
abandoned his bag of health-care products to speed to the far side of the
bed where he grabbed Little Alexei and began to parrot the assassin's oral
technique. Swirl around the head, tongue in the slit, wait for a groan,
then dive and swallow. Suck slowly up the shaft and do it all again. And
again. And again. All the while delving into Krycek's nicely loosened
cavity with three lazily exploring fingers.
Almost hypnotized from the repetition and aural background of moans and
incoherent gibbering, Skinner was unprepared for Mulder's screech. It
startled him so much he clenched. His hands tried to form fists, the one
that was mostly inside Krycek merely clawing up around the hard little
pleasure gland, causing Alex to add his own voice to the cacophony. Skinner
swallowed and swallowed, warm semen filling his throat, wondering why
Mulder was still screaming and when he'd let Skinner fuck him and whether
Alex was too sore for round two.
After exiting Alex' body, Skinner turned his attention to the other two.
Alex was trying to lick stray semen drops off his chin and looking guilty.
His hand was still on Mulder's ass.
"I'm afraid to look," Alex answered Skinner's unasked question.
The AD gently removed Alex' hand from the washcloth and tipped it up.
"Eeww," he said.
"Thar she blows," said Krycek, craning to look.
"You weren't supposed to squeeze," Mulder whimpered. "You promised."
"I lied," he replied, kissing Mulder's shoulder. "I'll get the peroxide,"
he told Skinner while slithering off the bed.
"Better bring a couple more washcloths, too," Skinner said. He looked at
the oozing pustule again. "Make that three," he called.
"He wasn't supposed to squeeze it," Mulder told Skinner in a quiet,
petulant voice.
"It'll feel better now," Walter answered soothingly.
"It won't come back again, will it?"
"No, of course not."
Mulder looked searchingly into Skinner's eyes. "You're lying to me, aren't
you."
Skinner stared back, listening to Alex running water in the bathroom,
considering the ramifications of his answer. "Yes, I am," he said, opting
for truth.
Mulder groaned and reached for a pillow.
end... Feedback: moco69@earthlink.net
Zitz
by moco
Pain had become a way of life for Fox Mulder, the constant throbbing a
reminder of his mortality. It made him avoid people. He was rude to his
friends and lied to his lover. The pain was his, and he couldn't share.
