He had come home after delivering his report to Assistant Director Skinner.
For once, he had given his boss a rational explanation for what Scully and
the other survivors of the massacre on tha bridge in Pennsylvania had
experienced. And then Skinner, the non-believer had the gall to tell him
that "extraterrestrial phenomena was a more plausable explanation." So he
had left in disgust, without a word to Scully. Mulder had come directly
home, only to find a note on his floor. A note Alex Krycek had left for him.
All throughout his conversation with his ex-partner, Mulder felt that the
roles had been reversed. Krycek was talking about a coming alien invasion
with perfect seriousness, and Mulder was discounting his every word. "You're
a murderer, a liar, and a coward," he had retorted. "Just because you stick
a gun to my chest, I'm supposed to believe you're my friend?" He winced
internally at how bitter the words sounded. If the situation were reversed,
he would be holding a gun on Krycek.
His former partner considered that momentarily. "Get up," he said, moving
away slightly, allowing Mulder to sit up. "I was sent by a man," Krycek
said. "A man who knows, as I do, the resistance is in our grasp, and in
yours. The mass incinerations were strikes by an alien rebellion to upset
plans for occupation. Now, one of these rebels is being held captive. And if
he dies... So does the resistance."
Then Krycek leaned forward and kissed Mulder's cheek. Mulder didn't move
away, nor did he reciprocate. Krycek broke the kiss with a loud smack, and
looked into Mulder's eyes. In a moment of reckless bravado, he twirled the
gun in his fingers, offering the butt to Mulder. 'Kill my body,' he thought.
'You've already killed my heart with your coldness.' Standing, he slowly
turned to leave. 'This will be the last time I see him.' "Good luck to you,
my friend," he said, too heartsick to realize he had slipped into the
Russian he had been speaking so much lately. Then he strode on, resolute.
Mulder sat there for a long moment, stunned at what had just happened. He
looked at the gun in his hand and at the retreating back and came to a
decision. Swiftly he stood and followed Krycek out of his apartment. Krycek
didn't look back, but the split second break in the younger man's stride
told Mulder that he knew he was being followed. 'I shouldn't do this,' a
critical voice that sounded remarkably like his father's chided. But that
voice shut up when his eyes slid over Krycek's form to rest on his ass.
Just as Mulder caught up with Krycek, the elevator door opened. The younger
man slipped inside as soon as the doors were wide enough to admit him.
Krycek reached over, punching the 'close door' button. But he wasn't quite
fast enough. Mulder blocked the doors open and stepped inside. Both men
stared eye to each other, wondering what would happen next, Krycek preparing
to be beaten.
What happened next, however, was not completely unexpected by Krycek. "I
need to know, Alex." Mulder advanced to within inches of Krycek's face,
close enough for each man to taste the other's breath. His voice was deadly
earnest, voicing a doubt he had carried for a long time. "Were you ordered
to sleep with me?"
He stared back at Mulder unashamed. There was no hesitation in Krycek's
answer. "I was not ordered to fall in love with you." His chin lifted a
little higher, making it clear that he had never harbored the idea of
betraying Mulder that way. Whatever Mulder thought of him, Krycek had kept
faith with Mulder in that one important way.
The words took Mulder's breath away. Closing the last few inches, the older
man kissed Krycek, pressing him against the wall. Mulder kissed Krycek the
way Krycek had wanted to kiss Mulder scant minutes ago, warm and pliant lips
feasting on the moist and ripe mouth beneath them, tongue probing, taking
what was offered, but not demanding more than his lover was willing to give.
But Krycek was willing to give Mulder everything. After spending endless
minutes dueling with Mulder's tongue, he began kissing and nipping Mulder's
neck, paying particular attention to his adam's apple. Mulder groaned and
slid his hands down to Krycek's ass, frustrated that the denim was so tight
that he couldn't slip his hands inside the material. Krycek reacted as if
Mulder had touched bare flesh and thrust his hips into the older man's with
a hungry moan.
Mulder turned away from Krycek for a moment and hit the 'emergency stop'
button on the panel. He couldn't let Krycek just walk out of his life like
this. Turning back to his former partner, Mulder fell to his knees with a
thud, all the while staring into those wide green eyes. Krycek shook his
head no as Mulder raised his hands to his crotch. "No," he whispered.
Hazel eyes pierced green. "Do you want me to stop?" Mulder asked, fingers
ever so lightly tracing Krycek's cock and balls through the fabric.
Krycek took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the wall. Mouth
sagging open, he shook his head slowly from side to side. Mulder peeled the
jeans and briefs away from Krycek's hips, the younger man wiggling to aid
the process. For all too few precious minutes, there would be no Consortium,
no Black Oil, no betrayal. There would only be two star crossed lovers
sharing their bodies and their pleasure in an all too brief encounter.
Krycek hissed and clenched his fist at Mulder's first touch on his exposed
cock, his ex-partner's nose tracing up the underside to place a feather
light kiss on the tip. Mulder grinned at the reaction. "Been a while, Alex?"
he said, tugging Krycek's hips a little further forward.
Mulder was so intent on the bobbing erection in front of him that he didn't
see Krycek bite his lips to keep from blurting anything out. 'No!' Krycek's
mind replied. 'Yesterday I fucked that blond informant of yours. But she was
no where as good as you are.' He approached the sexual relationship with
Covarrubias the same way he had approached his deal with Cancerman—a
rather unpleasant thing he was willing to go through to get ahead in life.
The sex had been good, but only because he had fantasized it was Mulder he
was with the whole time, no mean feat given the obvious physical differences
between Mulder and Covarrubias. The fact that the bitch had stabbed him in
the back before he could betray her just added to a sense of wounded pride.
Krycek looked down at Mulder. The older man's left hand was caressing his
ass, the middle finger of his right swirling in and out of that luscious
mouth with its sinfully tempting lower lip. His hazel eyes with their green
flecks and worshipful expression never wavered from Krycek's cock. 'I can't
do this, not after...,' Krycek thought. Oddly enough, he felt more ashamed
for sleeping with Covarrubias than he did for spying on Mulder, as if he had
betrayed his lover in a worse way. He was a lying rat bastard who didn't
deserve the blindingly blissful pleasure Mulder would bestow. He began to
twist to the side, trying to avoid Mulder.
"Oh no you don't!" Mulder exclaimed. He knew that Krycek was not telling the
whole truth, and he had come to the realization that he probably would never
learn it from his lover. But he wouldn't let Krycek's past sins come between
them at this moment. The next time he saw Krycek, he would probably fall
back into the same old pattern—slap his ex-partner around, accuse him of
killing his father and kidnapping Scully, and then momentarily forgiving and
fucking him. 'Don't go there,' he warned himself. Wanting to forget, if only
for a few minutes, he pinned Krycek to the wall with his free left arm and
swallowed Krycek's cock in one gulp as his finger entered Krycek's ass.
Krycek groaned, sagging further against the wall of the elevator. Mulder was
bringing his full, talented mouth to bear, alternately sucking, licking, and
nibbling on his erection. He began to thrust instinctively, the finger in
his ass brushing his prostate with every move. Krycek gave a strangled yelp,
nearing the outskirts of orgasm. Mulder responded by sucking and fingering
the younger man harder, remembering the not quite violence that always
seemed to get Krycek as hot as the gentlest caress. Krycek came with a half
stifled scream, Mulder eagerly swallowing his essence.
Knees turning wobbly, Krycek leaned against the back of the elevator for
support. He was so caught up in the aftermath that he didn't hear the snick
of a zipper being lowered, or notice that Mulder was no longer touching him.
He did start paying attention when strong hands turned him around, pressed
him to his knees, and a well lubricated cock, sheathed in latex, pressed in
between his asscheeks. "Thank god you remembered to put condoms in you
jacket this time, Alex," Mulder's voice breathed into his ear.
"Old habits, ooh, die hard," Krycek gasped out as Mulder began penetrating
the tight ring of muscle. He didn't dare say why they were really there—that the Consortium, with their interest in genetic manipulation, had been
engineering some very interesting and very ugly social diseases. He wouldn't
have put it past Covarrubias (or Them using her as an oblivious carrier) to
try to infect him as a means of assassination. But that train of thought was
forgotten once Mulder began to set a demanding rhythm. Soon everything was
forgotten but the slap of flesh against flesh, the balls slamming into
balls, the push and pull of a cock against asshole, and the effort of trying
to maintain his balance on knees and one hand. The artificial arm wasn't
stable enough to bear part of his weight.
Mulder groaned as Krycek bent lower, trying to give him better access. His
hand was a poor substitute for the tight furnace he found his cock embraced
in. 'And speaking of hands,' he thought with a twinge of guilty sadness.
Pushing in to the hilt, Mulder wrapped his arms Krycek and resettled, his
legs beneath Krycek, and his lover impaling himself on Mulder's rigid prick.
Then the passage encircling him contracted and Mulder threw back his head
with a part yell, part moan. He allowed Alex to lift off of him and sank to
the floor. Once he removed the condom, Mulder pulled the young man into his
arms.
Krycek slid to one side of his lover and nestled his face into the other
man's neck. Mulder glanced through half lidded eyes at his
satisfied-for-the-moment member, and then in wide, surprised ones at Krycek
newly full erection. "Can't keep a good man down," he quipped as he slid a
hand along Krycek's thigh.
But Krycek stood up, looking at Mulder with a sincere sadness battling with
arousal as he punched the ground floor button again. "We can't. If I stay
here any longer, They will come after me. And they won't have any qualms
about taking out any bystanders if it ensures my death."
Mulder opened his mouth to deny this, and then shut it, knowing that Krycek
was right. But knowing and liking were two different things. He stood up and
pulled his slacks back into place. He heard the rustle of cloth and looked
up. Krycek had pulled up his jeans but was struggling one handed with his
belt. Mulder stepped up behind him and kissed his neck. "Allow me," he
whispered in Krycek's ear before nipping the lobe. Strong and infinitely
gentle hands teased the buckle to close on the proper hole in the leather.
Krycek turned in Mulder's arms. He stared into Mulder's hazel eyes the way
he had in the apartment a lifetime of minutes ago. Then he kissed Mulder
again. But this time instead of pecking his lover's cheek, Krycek pressed
his lips to Mulder's, freeing all the passion he felt for this man. He
kissed Mulder, trying to communicate how sorry he was for their current
situation, and how he wished things could be different between them. And in
the depths of the soul some claimed he did not have, he knew Mulder
understood, and felt the same way.
They broke apart before the elevator doors opened. Both men looked as normal
as they both ever did, except for kiss swollen lips. Without a word, Krycek
stepped out of the elevator and started to walk away. But before the doors
slid shut, he turned back to Mulder and said something in Russian. Then the
elevator closed, blocking each man from the sight of the other.
Mulder spent the elevator ride back up to his apartment in silence. Even if
he didn't have a photographic memory, the words Krycek said, or at least
what he thought Krycek said, would stay with with him forever.
He hadn't told Scully, but he had been taking a Russian language course at
the local community college. The phrase Krycek had uttered the second time
was not quite the same as the first. He thought he knew what his ex-partner
had said, but wasn't absolutely certain of the translation. When he got back
to the apartment, the first think he did was pick up the Russian/English
dictionary. "Just what I thought," he mumbled to himself with a touch of
sadness when he found what he was looking for. Krycek had replaced the word
'friend' for another.
'Beloved.'
Uncertain Allies
Part IV
The Kiss
Mulder couldn't believe the situation.
