Make no mistake about it; he was as dead as a doornail. He'd never figured out
what was particularly dead about a doornail; dead as a coffin nail he could
understand. He looked around the bar, enjoying the soft music as he watched a
group of men dancing together slow and sensual. Some were dancing inches apart;
some were clasped tightly in each other's embrace, heads on shoulders, arms
around waists; others were just milling around, cruising each other, hoping
against hope that they might find someone—anyone—who would ease the
loneliness of the night. He felt at home here amongst his people. They were not
his people, of course, for Alex Krycek was dead.
He drummed his fingers against the bar and looked around once more before
getting up and going behind the counter to pour himself a Vodka Tonic. He
couldn't taste it any more, but the feel of the cool glass in his hand and the
slow burn down his throat was comforting—almost normal.
His thoughts drifted back again to Mulder. Damn him! After the sham of that
trial he had begun hanging around him more often, following him from place to
place, although he hadn't appeared to him.
After his death, he was puzzled that he had awareness—more puzzling still was
this kind of limbo he was in, with Mulder the only person he was able to see and
occasionally talk with. He knew nothing of gods or devils or heaven or hell,
having never—not even once—seen them. Over time he felt a burn in his body;
the feeling was as it had been when he was first infested by the Oilien. He
started hearing it speak to him; not in words so much, but in feeling. And to
his amazement, he found that when he concentrated hard enough, parts of his body
would materialize in corporeal form. This had shocked the hell out of him at
first; but then, Alex, being Alex, he began to think what he could do with it.
The sounds in his head had been loud that first night, and before he knew what
was happening, his new hand had materialized in front of him. He'd looked at
Mulder sleeping in his bed and saw the sheets tent from the older man's
erection. If he'd been completely materialized, one would have seen the impish
grin on his face. He took what he could get though. He crept slowly over to
Mulder's bed and slipped his hand under the sheets. Mulder spread his legs wider
to give him more access.
When Alex wrapped his hand around the erect cock, Mulder groaned. He moved his
own hand down to feel the hand enfolding him and rubbed it up to the point where
it just didn't exist anymore. God Alex, that feels so good, he said, totally
used to dealing with the weird and the fantastical. Alex pumped him hard, and
Mulder groaned louder, thrusting his hips up in rhythm with Alex's hand. Mulder
pushed the sheets down to his thighs so he could look at the disembodied hand
doing its best to make him feel so great. This only seemed to make him hornier.
Come on, Alex, harder . Alex complied with such a furious pace that he feared he
might hurt the man. When the eruption finally came, it was a quiet and peaceful
one.
The blissed-out look on Mulder's face was a joy to behold.
The voices in Alex's head became louder—more like a buzzing in his ears. All
of a sudden, his whole body was corporeal, fully formed, including the new arm.
He was naked, of course, which didn't seem to surprise Mulder in the least.
Having a naked, dead man in his bed who could talk and jack him off so royally
didn't seem to cause Mulder any alarm, either. This is one man, Alex felt, that
he would never be able to figure out. They'd been together since that night, and
all Alex had to do to appear to Mulder, was to concentrate on the buzzing in his
ears. It made him feel a little more kindly toward the Oilien—at least it had
been good for something.
"They allow you to do that here?" A very sexy voice was speaking, apparently to
Alex.
Krycek turned to look at the man who was tall and shy and boyish and as sexy as
hell.
"Not usually. You can see me?" Alex asked, not able to keep the surprise out of
his voice.
The man looked confused and stunned by the question. "Doesn't everyone?" Alex
didn't answer.
Alex smiled for him. "Not usually. You're the first."
This didn't seem to ease the other man's confusion at all. Nonetheless he held
out his hand to Alex. "I'm Ben...David Fisher," he said. "Come here often?" He
asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how trite and banal and
overused the question was.
"You're new to this, aren't you, David? Alex took David's hand in his new one
and shook it firmly. "I'm Alex Krycek. I'm new in town."
David sat down on the stool next to Alex and just stared at him as though he was
mesmerized by the emerald green eyes. "Yes, very new to this."
"Can I get you boys anything?" The bartender asked, looking straight at David.
"Sure...two of whatever he's having." David pointed at Alex's glass. The
bartender glanced at Krycek, seeing him for the first time that evening; looking
at his glass, he smiled nervously.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't remember serving you at all...I must be losing my
memory."
"No problem," Alex said, "it happens to the best of us. Vodka Tonic."
"Thanks." The bartender muttered and moved away to fix their drinks.
"So what do you do, David?"
David looked nervous. "I usually don't like to tell people when I first meet
them."
"Why?"
"It freaks some people out."
"It can't be that bad. You're not a serial killer, are you, David?"
Alex's thoughts went again to the last time he'd been with Mulder. What was it
about new parents? It was nothing but 'William this and William that' and an
endless parade of baby pictures. Finally Krycek could take no more; he'd
bitch-slapped Mulder and then materialized here.
"...are you sure you want to know?" David's voice brought Krycek back to the
present.
"Yes, I would."
David smiled, and Alex felt that that smile was only for him. It made his
companion look so very boyish and desirable.
"I'm a funeral director. I own my own business...with my brother."
"Oh!" Alex replied. "You see lots and lots of dead people then."
"Lots and lots," David replied, seemingly slightly upset, obviously thinking
that his chances with this gorgeous man were slipping away quicker than an
ice-cream cone in the Arizona heat.
"That explains a lot."
David's eyes grew as large as saucers. "Explains a lot!" David took his drink
and started to get up from the stool. "I told you it freaks people out. I'm
sorry to have bothered you." Alex could clearly see the disappointment in the
man's face.
"No, stay." Alex put his hand on David's arm so that he couldn't get away.
"It explains a lot, David, because I'm dead. Please sit."
"You're what?"
"Dead, David, dead. Have the dead ever talked to you before?"
Without hesitation, David replied. "Yes, they have. Often." David rubbed his
hand over the worn leather covering Alex's arm. "But I've never been able to
touch them before." David paused, seemingly trying to choose his words
carefully. "Alex, I don't believe you."
"Look at me," Krycek commanded. Without a moment's hesitation, Alex's clothing
changed into the dark suit he'd been wearing the night he was murdered, and a
gory hole, seeping blood, appeared in the middle of his forehead." The macabre
apparition took David so completely by surprise that he started choking on the
drink in his throat.
"What in the hell was that?"
"A picture's worth a thousand words, David. Believe me now?" As quickly as he
had changed, he switched back into his leather jacket and jeans.
David thought a moment. "Yes, yes I do."
"Do I frighten you?"
The funeral director rubbed his hand sensuously over Alex's cheek, feeling all
the contours of muscle and bone. "No, Alex, I don't think you do."
"Want to get out of here?"
David threw a couple of bills on the bar to cover the tab, took Alex by the hand
and led him to the door.
The traffic was fairly heavy for this time of the night. Alex looked around,
realizing what a long time it had been since he was last in West Hollywood, and
that it had grown since the last time he was here. He rested his head against
the headrest of David's car and closed his eyes.
"Tired?"
Without opening his eyes, Alex turned is head toward the driver and smiled.
"Dead, David, remember? I don't get tired, I don't get hungry and I don't get
thirsty. I do get horny though."
"That's good news, at least." David paid a little more attention to the traffic
surrounding them before continuing. "Tell me a little about yourself, Alex. What
did you do...before?"
Krycek always loved a good irony and echoing David's earlier statement said: "I
usually don't like to tell people that, it tends to freak them out."
David sniggered. "Come on, fair is fair, I told you what I did."
"Okay, Okay," Alex said kindly. "I was an assassin." Krycek delivered this
tidbit of information with a sang froid it just didn't deserve.
"You were what?" David stammered.
"Are you freaked out? Disgusted?" Alex asked timidly. David laughed.
"With what you've already told me tonight, how could I be? It's not every night
of the week you pick up someone who's dead and take him home and he turns out to
be an assassin. Did you work for the mob? The Government?" He looked at Alex
kindly, his eyes still full of lust.
"Neither and both. It wasn't the kid of mob you're thinking about. I didn't
really have much choice; it was a case of kill or be killed. Law of the jungle
type thing"
"Sounds interesting. Tell me more."
"I don't think I can, David. It would be safer for you if I didn't. Believe me,
you'll sleep more peacefully in your bed if you don't know."
"Okay, I'll buy that. How about boyfriends...have any?" David asked kindly and
with a tone of voice, which told Alex that he was really interested.
"How about you?" Alex answered his question with another question. Old habits
were hard to break, even after death.
"Oh! You are good. None at the moment, we just broke up."
"Why? What happened?"
"Well," David answered with a lot of hurt still remaining in his voice, "he said
he couldn't continue in a relationship with anyone who was still in the closet."
David combed his fingers through his black hair rather nervously and as an
afterthought he added: "He's a cop."
"You're shitting me."
"Nope, Scout's honor."
Alex laughed. "This is too weird. The guy I just left is a cop, of sorts. He's
Eff Bee Eye." Alex accented each syllable as he spoke them.
David smiled and sang: "A policeman's lot is not a happy one."
In a rich, baritone voice Alex finished the line for him: "...happy one." They
both laughed like school children as David pulled into the driveway. He pointed
towards the smaller building. "That's where I live."
The driver pulled the latch to open the door; Alex put his hand on David's
shoulder to stop him. "The bigger building, is that...?"
"Yes, that's the funeral home." David looked at Alex to gauge his reaction, not
really knowing what to expect from the recently dead come back to life.
Alex seemed uncharacteristically skittish as he looked at his companion. "Do you
think...could I...could I see where you do it?"
"You want to see the work room?" David was surprised and couldn't keep it out of
his voice.
"When he killed me," Alex explained, "I had none of this." Alex waved his hand
toward the building. "My body wasn't prepared; I had no words said over me—I'm
not a very religious man, but when I killed, I said something; I had no marker
placed over me to show that I was ever here. He just dug a hole and threw me
into it."
"Did you feel anything, Alex?" Any pain? Any fear?"
"Honestly...no. I felt nothing but betrayal. Betrayal by the person you love is
worse than anything Death can do to you, David. "
"Did he shoot you?"
"No, he didn't. But he was there. His boss shot me, but Fox looked...looked
almost happy or relieved."
"Shit!" David said, as he gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned
white.
"So, if you don't mind, I'd just like to see what I missed."
"I don't mind, Alex. Do you really think you're up to this?"
"Yes, I'm up to it. It just might resolve some issues. "
Krycek placed his hands on both cheeks of David's ass as the other man began
unlocking the door to the workroom. "Quiet," David admonished slightly, "you
might wake someone up."
"People live here?"
"Yeah! My mother and sister, although they're supposed to be out visiting a
friend this weekend, and there's my brother, Nate; he's usually at his
girlfriend's this time of night, but you never know."
"Lucky Nate."
"Brenda is kind of cool, in a quirky kind of way." David explained.
David hit the light switch and the room was bathed in a harsh, bright florescent
glare. Alex skirted around the mortician and entered the room first. It reminded
him, in an odd way, of an operating theatre—all glass, stainless steel and
white enamel.
"Great place," Alex said, as he made his way toward the exsanguination/embalming
table. He ran his hand sensuously over the stainless steel surface, and the
strange looking instrumentation placed near it. Taking off his jacket, he threw
it in the corner and got up on the table.
"David...go put on your work gear, would you?"
"Alex!"
"Please, David, I need this."
David shook his head, obviously wondering just what he was getting himself into.
This was becoming really weird. But then, the whole night had been
weird...hadn't he taken home a dead guy? The dead had appeared and talked with
him before, but this...this was really Twilight Zone stuff. He'd even seen one
of the dead while giving his final reading in church as Deacon, but none had
affected him quite like this.
"Okay, Alex." David came back moments later wearing a greenish smock. He was
about to don his mask and latex gloves.
"You won't need those, David"
The jittery man ran his hand nervously over his brow. "What now, Alex."
Krycek made a pillow of his hands and placed them under his head. "First, you
should calm down."
"Easy for you to say...this is definitely weird, Alex."
Alex rubbed one of his hands up David's thigh and stopped at his groin; his palm
running along the erection the standing man was sporting. "Your mind might be
thinking 'weird', but other body parts are thinking something else entirely."
"What was your first clue, Alex?"
"This must be a hard job for someone like you, David."
"What do you mean?"
"You're kind," Alex said softly, "you're caring and you're fucking gorgeous.
Tell me, what was your hardest case?"
David blushed and answered immediately. "A young guy, a gay bashing. His father
thought he deserved it for being gay; worst of all the victim felt he deserved
it too and was convinced he was going to hell. He almost had me convinced I was
going to hell; that being gay was wrong."
"He told you this."
"Yeah, I told you before, sometimes I can see and hear them. I don't know if
they're real or just figments of my imagination."
"David...showing kindness, loving someone, anyone, is never wrong." Alex cupped
David's balls with his hand. "Does this feel like your imagination?"
"Nope! I wish my imagination were that good," David said as he pushed himself
into Alex's hand.
"What now, Alex?"
"Undress me." David's jaw dropped.
"What?"
"Undress me...just like you would any other stiff."
He quickly complied, never taking his eyes from the superbly muscled and almost
hairless body. Whenever he got the chance, he rubbed his hands over the flesh as
he exposed it. He felt himself growing harder, his cock pressing against his
briefs and zipper, demanding immediate release.
"Like what you see, David?"
"How could I not?" He said as he bent down to kiss the full, rose-red lips. Alex
slowly sucked the other's tongue into his mouth so he could taste the living
man; he tasted divine.
"David...take off your clothes."
In the back of his mind, the mortician knew that there was something vaguely
wrong about doing this here, but he was too far gone right then to make any
ethical decisions, so he complied. Quickly disrobing, he threw his clothes on
the floor with Alex's, sighed with relief as his engorged cock was released from
its confinement.
"I like what I see," Alex said and grabbed David's erection in his hand, gently
stroking the organ to an even harder state. David closed his eyes, giving
himself over completely to the sensation of the intimacy that he had so sorely
missed during the past few weeks since he'd broken up with Keith—or rather,
since Keith had broken up with him. He'd had one-night stands, lying about his
name and just getting off on the sex. This was different, really different. He
felt intimate with Alex; a real connection had been made, he cared about this
man, regardless of his status in the land of the living.
Alex leaned up and took the pink tip of David's erection into his mouth; the
other man's knees went weak and he had to grab onto the edge of the table to
keep himself standing. "No, Alex, don't! I don't have any condoms here."
Alex let the tip of the organ drop from his lips and started to laugh. He
pointed at his own chest, "Dead...remember! What do you think you can catch from
me or give me?"
"Right!"
Alex went back to work with gusto. Not having to breathe really had certain
advantages when you were sucking another man. With one dive, Alex had all of
David's cock down his throat, constricting his muscles around it; his tongue
swiping at the large vein at the base. Without the table to support him, David
would surely have been on his ass on the floor; with that level of sensation
going directly to the core of his being, his legs simply wouldn't support him.
Alex continued sucking and licking him and rubbing his free hand over the
younger mans ass, finding the tightly puckered entrance to his body and
massaging it lightly. He heard David breathing heavily, moaning so loudly that
he looked up at him. His heart was touched by the sight; David was weeping, the
tears gently rolling down his face and beginning to drip onto his neck. Krycek
dropped the organ from his mouth and reached up to rub through the sweat-soaked,
sparse, black hair of David's chest. He pulled the man down for a kiss, and the
other man lost it then, devouring Krycek's lips, sucking on his tongue as though
his life depended on it. He moved down to Krycek's neck and licked him like a
cat, finally resting his head in the cradle of Alex's neck.
"That was fantastic, Alex...the blow job of the century!" He smiled, and
nothing, ever, had looked more beautiful than that to Alex. The smile lit up the
man's face like nothing Alex could ever have imagined.
Alex sat up, gave David's cock one more stroke and got off the table. He took
the still panting man by the hand and led him across the room. Alex rubbed his
hand over the burnished metal finish of the casket there, his eyes never leaving
the highly polished chrome of the handles. "That's beautiful, man!" Letting the
man's hand go, Krycek draped himself over the coffin and let out a sigh. "I
could really see myself resting for all eternity in that."
"That's our Titan model...top of the line." Funny, David thought, he didn't feel
the least bit embarrassed or strange standing in front of a coffin stark naked
with another man who was, like him, totally devoid of clothing. But then, Alex
was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Keith was built like a Nubian god—tall and strong and black and bald—but he couldn't even begin to compare with
Alex.
Alex popped the lid of the box and saw the plush, luxurious satin of the
interior; he groaned aloud. He let his hand roam over the soft pillow and the
stark white material below it. He looked at David, as though asking permission.
David kissed him on the cheek in answer. Alex opened the other cover of the
coffin and climbed in, holding out his arms to the other man, inviting him to
join him.
David shook his head, hesitating for just a moment and then started to climb in,
waiting for Alex to move over a bit so that he could lie beside him. That was
not Alex's plan, though. He took David's head and placed his ear next to his
mouth. "I want you to fuck me, David!"
"What?"
"Fuck me, David!"
"Alex, do you realize how much this casket is worth? Believe me, a lot."
"Dave, Dave..." Alex used the diminutive easily, "we won't leave a drop on it, I
promise."
"I don't have any lube either." Alex smiled. His eyes laughed at hin; David got
the message immediately.
"Right, you don't need it."
Alex draped his leg over the side of the coffin without any effort at all and
gave the other man a come hither look that David simply couldn't resist. His
cock had grown rock hard in a matter of seconds, especially after Alex had
lifted his butt up slightly and exposed himself. The mortician climbed into the
coffin and laid himself on Alex's chest, settling between the man's outstretched
legs. For the first time he noticed that Alex did not breathe; it didn't bother
him. He met Alex's lips and thrust his tongue into the other man's mouth; Alex
sucked it in eagerly.
"Dave, do it. Do it hard."
The living man positioned himself at the entrance to Krycek's body and thrust in
slightly, surprised when he was enveloped immediately without any resistance at
all. Once inside though, it was another story. The soft, velvet feel of Alex was
almost overwhelming, and Dave felt like screaming. Then, Alex contracted his
muscles around him and David did scream. Like some contortionist, Alex began to
fuck himself on David's cock with ease. David laid his head on Alex's shoulders
and began to move.
"That's it, Dave. Harder...harder."
Alex put his hands on the mortician's ass and pushed him in as far as possible.
Plowing into the man below him, David was completely lost to pleasure. Alex's
head moved from side to side on the soft, satin pillow and every once in a while
he'd capture David's mouth and kiss the breath out of him. Alex would never know
why, but every once in a while, he'd get the sweet, unmistakable smell of roses.
"David! Touch me."
He didn't have to be asked twice. Supporting himself with his other arm, he took
Alex's fully engorged, beautiful cock in his hand and began to pump it. Alex's
ass pistoned in perfect concert with David's thrusts and on the up movement,
Krycek thrust his cock fully into David's hand. The sensations were too intense
as Alex's interior muscles contracted inhumanly around his cock; he couldn't
hold out any longer and came and came and came; came as he never had in his
entire life. Alex wasn't too far behind him, shooting his essence over David's
hand and his own chest.
Krycek put his hands around David's neck, and pulled him in to drape entirely
over his chest. He kissed him then, kissed him like David was the ultimate
object of his affection; kissed him in a way that would spoil him forever for
anyone else.
"David, that was fantastic. Thank you." Alex waved his hand around the room at
all the instrumentation and at the table he had been on earlier. "I really
needed this...it was the ultimate kindness."
"Don't be silly, Alex. The pleasure was all mine."
Krycek smiled that smile that melted David's insides and he hugged him closely
to his chest. Alex felt the buzz of the Oilien in his ears and knew that his
time in the corporeal world was growing short. He traced his fingers all over
David's face, from his brow to his nose to his cheek to his lips as though, like
a blind man, trying to commit David's image to memory.
"I'll never forget this, David. Never."
"Alex, neither will..." But he was too late. Alex was already fading. David felt
his own naked body, so recently buried in Alex, touch the soft satin of the
coffin. The last thing he saw was a pair of bright green, emerald eyes on the
satin pillow, so full of gratitude; soon they were gone as well. Nothing of Alex
remained for David to see. Even the pillow, where Alex had so recently rested
his head, had returned to its pristine state, as though no one had ever used it
before. David raised his own body from the material and saw that not a stain,
not a mark, no evidence whatsoever remained of their recent coupling.
"Don't worry, David," came a disembodied voice; "I'll carry your seed with me
forever." David looked around but saw nothing.
"Jesus, David, what in the hell are we doing in the woods in Arlington,
Virginia?" Nate asked. "It's bad enough that you dragged me to a Funeral
Director's convention in DC...but this."
"In case you've forgotten, Nate, you are a Funeral Director." The boys could
bicker in a way that only brothers could master.
"But in these fucking woods."
"Stop bitching for once will you, Nate."
They stopped at a place beneath a tree that looked as though the earth had been
disturbed in the past year or so. David took the rucksack from his back and
removed a small spade and began to dig, digging just enough earth to act as a
base for something. Nate was growing more confused by the moment, as David
reached into the rucksack again, removing a small, marble marker with a pair of
cat's eyes etched into it. It held only a few words: "Alex, the best of the
best." He placed it lovingly on the base he'd just dug.
"Nate...Nate...say a few words."
"What?"
"For fuck sake, Nate, just do it."
As Nate spoke, David again saw the beautiful man who had come into his life
standing perfectly still at the base of the tree with his arms folded over his
chest. Granted a dead man who had taught him more about life and love and what
being alive really meant than anyone else he had ever known. He thanked the
green-eyed beauty again in his mind, and swore, on his father's grave, that he'd
never forget him.
The End (or now)
Don't Pay the Ferryman
by The Riticulan Amanuensis
Alex Krycek was dead!
