5. In some cultures what I do would be
considered normal.
11. As I learn the innermost secrets of
people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.
As Alex Krycek rifled through the corpse's
pockets he felt bored and terribly unappreciated. He deserved so
much better. All he did was bring those old bastards the cure for
alien possession at great personal cost. His reward? To be
used as a chauffeur when they didn't have him back on thug duty, sanctioning
people they wanted dead.
They didn't even want any artful murders.
Alex knew he had a talent for artistic, baroque, and perverse deaths, and
so did they. Any amateur could do the kind of work they had him on now.
Just aim, shoot, and loot the body to make it look like a fatal robbery.
Boring.
If they didn't give him more interesting
things to do, he would have to get ugly with them.
3. I assume full responsibility for my
actions, except the ones that are someone else's fault.
23. A good scapegoat is almost as good
as a solution.
28. I am learning that criticism is not
nearly as effective as sabotage.
Alex knew he had trouble the moment he
walked into the room and faced the full old bastard contingent, all of
whom stared balefully at him. //Don't make me give you a good reason
to look at me like that...// "What?" he asked, letting his annoyance
crackle through his voice.
"That gentleman you sanctioned turned out
to have knowledge we could have used. Now that resource is forever
lost to us," the head foppish bastard said. His look and tone made
it obvious who he blamed.
"How is that my fault? I thought
you wanted me to follow orders without question. Do I have to give
you a three day waiting period before I kill someone now? 'Hi, this
is Krycek on Day #2. Do you still want me to terminate Target A?'"
"Mr. Krycek, you have to make things right.
We need—"
"Oh, fuck you! I don't need this
shit. I'm not taking the blame for anyone else. When you're
ready to talk reason, you know how to contact me." He stomped out of the
room, hand on his gun, hoping someone would follow and give him an excuse.
No one did.
Another disappointment.
Bored and enraged had always been a bad
combination for him. If he didn't let off some steam soon, someone
would die, and it might not even be the right someone if he got angry enough.
He needed to do something fun and malicious.
If that something put out the Old Fogies' Club, all the better. His
quick mind flipped through possibility after possibility and nixed them
all until he remembered that night at Mulder's apartment.
The Consortium had wanted Alex to renew
Mulder's faith in aliens, but it had been Alex's idea to throw in the kiss.
Sort of. He hadn't meant to, but Mulder, despite being so enticingly
helpless, wouldn't shut up or stop looking so sexy. And Alex had
an impulse problem. So Alex kissed the side of that pouty face and,
to his shock, felt the head turn toward him and his former partner's body
melt into the floor. Mulder liked it.
The temptation to stay and take things
as far as he could push them had been so strong, but Alex reined himself
in and followed orders. The old bastards had plans for their favorite love/hate
object, and a
liaison with one of their operatives didn't
factor into them. They wanted him to stay clear of Mulder until ordered
otherwise.
But now—
Alex smiled. This could be fun.
2. I have the power to channel my imagination
into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
4. I no longer need to punish, deceive,
or compromise myself, unless I want to stay employed.
8. I honor my personality flaws for without
them I would have no personality at all.
27. The complete lack of evidence is the
surest sign that the conspiracy is working.
The blinking cursor and blank screen mocked
Mulder. He had just deleted false start #14 from his attempted field
report. He kept forgetting to avoid use of his splinted pinky finger,
and nothing
sounded right. What good would it
do to write what he saw and experienced without the physical evidence everyone
demanded he give them to back it up? As much good as it ever did.
//"But I saw it. It threw me around.
Do you want to see the bruises?" "Agent Mulder, that's just not good enough..."//
Usually Scully filled out the reports in
her characteristically skeptical manner, a style Skinner found more appropriate.
Denying everything. Denying what she saw, what she felt, what her
partner told her. Denying his sanity, what was left of it...
"I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason why that corpse got up off
the slab and attacked the coroner once he removed the stake from its heart."
"Giant bug? I didn't see any giant bugs..."
Scully had gone out on a date. Mulder
knew he could have a social life too if he tried and that it would be petty
for him to expect her to devote as much of her life to the X-Files as he
had //all of it// but couldn't help feeling hurt.
He shouldn't. He shouldn't be surprised.
Their years together had counted for nothing when she saw him involved
in one suspicious situation and instantly decided that he had gone traitor.
She had backed Skinner on the institutionalization. She had looked
down, so superior, at Mulder in his restraints with eyes that said, "Well,
I always expected this day would come. What a pity. You had
so much potential and you wasted it all."
Her attitude lately spoke volumes: "I don't
believe you. No one should. Can't you tell how insane you sound
and look? You embarrass me. You're useless. I'm so tired
of it all."
//You made a mistake; you started to expect
things from her. Trust no one, and, most of all, expect nothing from
anyone. That way you won't be disappointed...//
With everything that had happened in the
last year, he should be entitled to a nervous breakdown, a glorious, dramatic
fit of madness followed by a long rest. Being in the hospital showed
him the stupidity of that idea. Aside from the fact that being in
a room with almost no outside stimulation would only make him crazier,
as it almost had a few days ago, if the homicidal giant bugs didn't get
him, the Consortium thugs would.
He stood and stretched, feeling the fatigue
that weighted his eyes and limbs duel with the electricity that wouldn't
let him sleep. He dealt with it, as usual. Mulder was accustomed
to squeezing work out of a recalcitrant body stricken with insomnia.
He lived like this every day; it shaped his mind. A little coffee
would help, and the latest pot should be done now. Yawning, he left
the office.
He poured and immediately took a big swallow.
He closed his eyes and felt warm tendrils of life-giving caffeine slowly
diffuse through his body. Much better. He filled the mug to
the brim again and brought it back to the office.
As soon as Mulder entered the room, he
knew something was different, wrong, but couldn't immediately see the change.
He put the mug down on the desk and his hand on his gun, then scanned his
surroundings. Same old clutter and dinginess, nothing obviously out
of place.
When he looked at the monitor, he saw a
message typed in: GETTING CARELESS, AREN'T WE?
Even with that moment's warning, the rush
took him by surprise. His assailant immediately ripped Mulder's gun holster
loose. Mulder felt his fists and knee connect a few times but something
struck his head and threw him back against the wall and pinned him there.
Papers rustled, and pushpins poked into his back no matter how he moved.
Despite his spinning head, he still struggled with an insane fury, especially
with the memory of the institution's restraints so fresh in his mind.
//They won't let me— paralyzed...//
"Stop. It," the intruder said before
head butting Mulder again just hard enough to stun.
Mulder reeled back against the wall and
finally got a dazed look at his assailant. Krycek. It horrified
him to see Krycek in this office. Mulder had come to the point where he
expected to see uninvited guests in his apartment—sometimes he thought
he should put out a welcome mat and leave the door unlocked—but the office
should have been safe from intrusion. Not from bugging, sure, but
he didn't see how a known triple agent and traitor could walk into and
through the building at night.
Mulder couldn't move, not with the other
man blanketing almost every part of his body. He felt Krycek's heart
pounding in time with his own and harsh breathing on the side of his face.
And Krycek's erection against his leg.
Not too far from his own.
Mulder didn't know why he felt so excited
either. So awake and alive. Had to be the adrenaline rush.
"Why are you here, Krycek? Do you have another military base you want me
to break into,another alien visitation to almost witness?" he gasped.
"It seems to me, Mulder, that we have some
things in common,"Krycek said softly. Mulder realized that sometime
during the fight he'd ripped Krycek's prosthetic arm loose; only the leather
jacket's cuff stopped it from dropping to the floor.
//Maybe I should go berserk more often.
I almost kick ass that way.// "Oh, please."
Krycek's breath stirred the fine hairs
on Mulder's neck. "It's true. The people who think they're in charge
of us keep giving us shit. They don't understand. I'm my own boss.
You could be too, if you dared."
Something perverse in Mulder made him ask,
"If I dared, I could be your boss?"
Krycek grinned darkly. "You can try,"
he purred.
//Get away from me. Stop looking
at me like that. Please, stop.// Mulder felt Krycek's heat against
his skin, felt his every breath. It felt so good to be touched, by
anyone. So good to hear another voice, even if it taunted him.
//He's not fighting fair. Oh, right. This is Krycek. Does he
ever fight fair?// His knees felt weak, and he was afraid that he
would slide down the wall if his former partner moved away from him.
//Pathetic.//
This time the kiss went straight for Mulder's
mouth, and he opened wide to receive the tongue that asked for entrance.
He felt his head being pressed back against the wall into the thicket of
pushpins, but the pain seemed miniscule compared to the hot sparks of pleasure
suffusing the rest of his body as his former partner rubbed and ground
himself against Mulder. Then Krycek started a kind of teasing dance,
stroking his pelvis against Mulder's and then withdrawing and then coming
back... It drove Mulder insane anticipating the next pass, and the
fact that Krycek varied the intervals, the pace, only increased the frustration.
He throbbed and ached with lust.
//With all the terrible things he's done
to me and Scully, why is this so easy?//
6. Having control over myself is almost
as good as having control over others.
20. I honor and express all facets of
my being, regardless of state and local laws.
30. To have a successful relationship
I must learn to make it look like I'm giving as much as I'm getting.
//I didn't think it would be this easy.//
Alex had expected the usual recriminations about killing Bill Mulder and
more of a struggle. The fight Mulder had given him had been more effective
than usual and would leave bruises, but since Mulder was putting out, Alex
decided to be magnanimous. He had actually looked forward to banging
Mulder's head against the wall a few times, though. Not that this quick
acquiescence and sweet submission didn't have their appeal...
When Mulder stretched, baring his elegant
neck, Krycek first sucked at the Adam's apple presented to him so prettily,
then let his teeth graze the skin over the carotid artery. If he
bit down hard enough, his former partner's life would gush out over his
lips. Did Mulder realize? Something about the sounds Mulder
made suggested to Alex that he did— and liked it? Didn't care?
Wanted to die? Found it kinky? Alex knew himself to be the
Consortium operative most skilled at screwing with Mulder's head, but that
convoluted brain often worked in ways
that mystified him too.
He nipped at the skin instead, making sure
to leave marks in places the shirt collar wouldn't hide, and felt Mulder
purr. The body beneath him vibrated with lust and pent-up energy.
Mulder whimpered every time Alex pulled away.
//All work and no play makes Fox a really
vulnerable boy.// Then again, Mulder had been through a lot lately,
like a near execution and an involuntary committal... and that was just
this pay period...//Huh. If I were him, I'd want someone to just
fuck me blind too.
//Well, if you're really good, I'll show
you one hell of a good time.//
"I'll be good," Mulder whispered, shocking
Alex. He knew he hadn't said anything aloud.
Alex pulled back a little, grinning at
the incoherent protests, and took some time to enjoy the sight of his handiwork.
Eyes heavy-lidded and half-closed, lips parted and damp, face slightly
flushed, Mulder looked delicious. His dress shirt had the sleeves
rolled up and collar unbuttoned. A boring dark blue tie, so unlike
the wild and tasteless ones he used to wear, still hung, loosened and slightly
undone, around his neck. //Oh, the things I can do with that.
Why didn't I try this years ago?//
The thought of fucking Mulder in this office
only added spice. Mulder's sanctuary and external model of his odd brain,
and soon he would willingly get reamed here by his worst enemy. //Who
says I have no sense of romance?//
He undid Mulder's pants slowly, the only
way he could with one arm, but the struggle only seemed to excite the older
man further. His hand slipped in to caress, and Mulder bucked into his
palm. Completely helpless and under his power. He could kill Mulder,
reject him...
Well, maybe not reject him. Given
the state of Alex's own insistent arousal, rejecting this became less and
less of an option every second.
Then paranoia kicked in. //This is
too easy, not to mention a bit out of character.//
When he stepped away, Mulder actually started
to slide down the wall. Alex grabbed his arm and flung him onto the
chair, which rolled with Mulder in it until it hit the wall. Mulder
just sat there and licked his lips.
"It won't work," Alex said.
"What won't work?"
"Your distraction."
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, come on. You keep me distracted
until help arrives."
Mulder looked almost contemptuous.
Sultry too, with his eyes still heavy-lidded and lips still slightly parted,
but mostly disdainful and amused. "You must have the wrong person.
I'm the FBI's Most Unwanted. I don't have people ready to pound down
the door to rescue me. And people think I'm paranoid."
//Good point. What was I thinking?
The Bureau leaves him hanging out to dry on a daily basis, when they're
not dangling him in front of militia groups or letting their shadow companies
use him for target practice.//
"Do tell." Alex moved in until he stood
at the edge of Mulder's feet and took a speculative look down. "That
gives me so many options."
"Whatever."
Surprised, Alex kneeled and leaned into
Mulder. "When did you go insane, Mulder?"
"Maybe it was when the big nasty leaned
over my bed to kill me while I was helpless. Maybe it was when I
was kneeling with that gun to the back of my head." His eyes had gone dark
and almost seemed to swirl. "Or maybe I've been insane longer than
that. Maybe it happened one night while I was sitting on the floor of my
living room with a former partner holding my own gun on me."
"I know when," Alex said softly as he moved
in closer, putting his face directly in front of Mulder's. "It happened
when you were alone in that sterile hospital room, tied to the bed, alone,
with nothing to occupy that quick mind of yours aside from the knowledge
that everyone you trusted thought you should be put
away for your own good."
The formerly insouciant voice turned softer,
sounded hurt. His eyes closed. "Maybe." That was more like
it.
It made Alex feel oddly tender toward him.
"You're not insane, Mulder. You've just been kicked around, and you're
tired." //I thought you came here to mess with his head. You do
remember that, right?
//Can you also remember that Mulder isn't
exactly fighting you off?//
The loosened straps from Alex's prosthetic
rubbed and chafed, so he took off the leather jacket, then the sweater,
and finally the prosthetic itself, making a show as he stripped.
Mulder's dark eyes took in the stump and scars with an inscrutable expression,
but the fluorescent light seemed to sparkle in them. //It's like
looking into space...// Then Mulder licked his lips again.
Alex all but launched himself into the
waiting lap and ravaged a mouth that retained the rich, bitter flavor of
coffee. Long fingers sought out every scar on his arm and torso and
trailed down them with blunt nails. The feel of the splinted finger
against Alex's bare skin made him especially crazy, the warm metal and
rough gauze tape raising goosebumps.
He pulled Mulder out of the chair and cleared
the cluttered desktop with an impatient swipe that just barely missed the
coffee cup and laptop computer. They feverishly divested one another
of pants.
Alex reached back into his jacket and
expertly rummaged for a condom and a tube of lubricant. He slapped
the condom down on the desk but put the tube to immediate use.
As Alex's slick fingers thrust into Mulder,
the older man moaned and gasped, "I always did like a man who knows what
he wants and makes plans for it."
"Then you'll really like this. Put
the condom on me."
Mulder's hands stroked and teased the condom
on, then applied more lubricant. Unable to wait any longer, Alex
bent Mulder over the desk and thrust in. Alex grinned as he heard
the older man make some incredibly incoherent sounds. Once he felt
securely placed, Alex grabbed that boring tie and started to use it as
a choke collar, with Mulder gasping encouragement and helping Alex's other
effort by moving his hips, sending each thrust deeper. //If I'd known
you could be like this, I would have jumped you years ago, I swear!//
Alex rode the older man hard, using every movement of the writhing ass
under him to further bring himself off and create more friction for his
thrusts. Mulder came almost immediately
onto the desk. Alex finished soon
after and collapsed, panting, atop his //once and future?// partner's back.
When Alex loosened the tie, Mulder took
a deep breath and rasped, "Was I good?"
Alex stroked his lover's hair. "Unbearably
good." As good as it felt where he was, he dismounted and started
to clean himself up. He couldn't stop grinning. "I should get you
out of here. Too depressing."
Mulder had started to clean up the desk,
giving Alex a great view of his ass. "Do you have anything in mind?"
He'd somehow avoided making a mess of himself. Alex respected that
kind of presence of mind under pressure.
"I always do." Alex took almost as
great a joy in dressing Mulder as he had in undressing him. Alex
rearranged the dress shirt and tie back exactly as they were before, put
the pants back on him, tucked Mulder's gun in the waistband, and finished
it off with his own battered leather jacket. It created an incongruous
but undeniably sexy effect. "Help me dress?"
Mulder's eyebrow raised and stayed there,
but he obeyed and asked, "What do you have in mind?" as he buckled the
prosthetic back on.
"Trust me."
"You're kidding, right?"
9. I am grateful that I am not as judgmental
as all those censorious, self-righteous people around me.
13. The first step is to say nice things
about myself. The second, to do nice things for myself. The third, to find
someone to buy me nice things.
The moment they walked into the bar, Mulder
knew Krycek had to be out for blood. By some unerring instinct, the
triple agent hadlocated one of the most disreputable country/western bars,populated
by some of the most disreputable cowboy wannabes, in the District of Columbia.
It even had sawdust on the floor and arundown-looking mechanical bull.
Their clothes alone would have made them
stick out from the rest of the clientele: Krycek in tattered dark sweater,
scuffed biker boots, and worn black jeans and himself in the rumpled remnants
of a business suit topped with a leather jacket. Only the guns they
had tucked into their waistbands fit the dress code. While Krycek
had stayed close and touched Mulder on occasion during the trip here, he
now escalated his attentions //not that I really mind...//, acting very
grabby and even nibbling Mulder's ear once before
giving the bartender a huge smile. //We
should have just worn signs saying: WE'RE FAGS. KICK OUR ASSES.//
The bartender and ten drunken, hulking
rednecks occupying the bar turned almost identical looks of righteous anger
their way. Krycek leered back. Terror shot through Mulder's stomach
but with it came an excitement he couldn't recognize. It confused
him.
//Confused describes it all, doesn't it?//
Mulder couldn't believe that he'd had sex with Alex Krycek or that he'd
enjoyed it or that he felt oddly happy about it even now. //He bent
me over the desk in my office and fucked and choked me to orgasm, and I
begged him for it...// Wearing Krycek's leather jacket provided a
constant reminder. Aside from the obvious rich scent of leather,
it smelled of metal, gunpowder, blood, and Krycek in a way that kept
distracting him.
As Krycek, hand on his arm, solicitously
guided Mulder to a table, Mulder could finally make out the words of the
droning, twangy song a truly wretched country/western band was playing
from behind a chicken wire cage. Something about the whining singer's
wife cheating on him, so he had to shoot her. //What am I doing here?//
Mulder kept his hand on his gun as he waited
for Krycek to get back with their beer. He could feel the tension
spiking in the room, especially with his former partner provoking everyone
around him.
Krycek came back smirking with two bottles
of beer. "Do you like Foster's? It's Australian for beer."
"I don't drink very often."
"That's okay." He opened each bottle with
a practiced twist, a neat trick for a one-handed man and some show of strength,
and set one on the table in front of Mulder.
"What are you doing?"
"I just flirted with every greaseball in
the room, then told the bartender I didn't want some weak American beer.
It's only a matter of time now." Louder, he said, "Look at that one in
the chaps. Maybe we did wander into a gay bar."
"I don't want anyone to find my corpse
here, especially if it's wearing your jacket."
"Oh, c'mon. If they were real terrors
they would have attacked by now. They may be too wimpy for my tastes."
Krycek took a long swallow of his beer, tonguing the neck of the bottle
in a way that made Mulder squirm. "Though I may have to shoot the
band first," he said loudly. "You call that music? I'll give
you music."
Krycek started to shout, "'Now, let's you
just drop them pants.'/ '...Drop?'/ 'Just take 'em right off.'/ 'Come on,
squeal! Squeal! EEEEEEEE!'/Minds are empty, heads are hollow/ You might
find out the truth is hard to swallow/ There's a place down there, where
heads are square—"
This finally provoked the rednecks enough
that they rushed Krycek in a group. Mulder went immediately into
partner-in-danger mode and let the first drunk's momentum help Mulder throw
him into the wall. Then the next one came. Krycek never stopped
singing as he kicked asses.
"...It doesn't take much to kill that guy/
Don't get in my face and ask me why.../ Texas is the place/ HANG 'EM HIGH!!!!/
Beers, steers, and queers..."
Mulder grabbed one attacker by his greasy
hair and beat his head against the table. Krycek pistol-whipped one
while he kicked in the balls of another.
"...Let's go down, herd 'em up/ If you
agree, then let's word 'em up/ And if you don't.../ THEN SHUT THE FUCK
UP!" Krycek accented that line by shooting his gun at the band, which finally
stopped playing. "Beers, steers, and queers/ 'Now, let's you just
drop them pants'/ I've spent my life, go kicking shit/ Not gonna give up,
ain't about to quit/ Life is a bucket of .../ Gettin' rough, feeding stock/
Get in my way/ I'LL KNOCK YOU OFF/ Beers, steers, and queers..."
Mulder took a punch to the side of the
head but didn't even feel it. His redneck got knocked down when Krycek
flung one of his attackers at him.
"I'm a crazy mother in a drunken state/
A redneck asswipe who thinks he's great/ So full of shit, diarrhea for
fingers/ Everywhere I go, personality lingers/ Say you don't like.../ I
don't give a damn, so fuck your respect/ If you're looking for a reason,
don't go any farther/ 'Cuz I'll give it to you baby, like to your grandmother/
Take what you get if it does the job..."
When the last attacker went down, the bartender
brought up a sawed-off shotgun and aimed it at Krycrek. Without even
thinking about it, only seeing his partner in danger, Mulder drew his gun
and fired a warning shot at the bar near the man's groin. "Put it
down now!" Mulder shouted. The bartender dropped the shotgun and
put his hands up.
Krycek laughed, slapped Mulder on the back
to show his approval, and ended his performance. "...Beers, steers,
and queers/ 'This is our house, and our house music. I am the creator.'"
He looked around at the devastation and sprawled bodies. "Having
fun yet?"
Mulder tucked his gun back into his waistband.
"I've really lost it," he said softly. "I'm going to get identified
for this and get sent to the hospital for good."
"Don't worry. No one will report
this one. Besides, you don't look like yourself. Go clean up
in the men's room while I finish things up out here."
Mulder had taken five steps before he realized
that he had meekly accepted an order from Krycek. He kicked the bathroom
door open and immediately started to breathe through his mouth in self-defense.
If he didn't already get nightmares, this room would give them to him.
//"Besides, you don't look like yourself."
What did he mean?// Mulder glanced into the five square inches of clean
mirror available and couldn't turn away. The Mulder who looked back
at him had an excited, hungry look in his eyes and a twist to his smiling
mouth that lent him an air of danger.
//Is that really me? Oh, shit, I'm
having an episode.// He didn't know the dangerous, sensual person
reflected back at him, but he wanted to.
"Looking good, Mulder," Krycek said from
the door. He grinned and spun to show off the brown leather chaps
he must have stolen from one of their attackers. They were a bit
big on him and gave the impression that he was a child playing dress-up.
That and the grin were oddly endearing. //I just used the word "endearing"
in connection with Krycek. I must be nuts.//
Krycek came up behind Mulder and put his
arm around the older man's neck, pulling him back into an embrace.
He nibbled at Mulder's neck, and Mulder sighed and rubbed himself on the
erection he felt prodding him. //When did I become such a slut?//
Krycek, apparently confident that his partner didn't intend to leave, moved
his hand down, teasing Mulder's nipples through his shirt, sliding over
ribs, until it reached the older man's groin. Once there, it massaged
in slow circles. //Well, that's why... //
Mulder leaned back further and moaned,
"I should have known that fight would make you horny." The stench
and filth all faded away as his body concentrated on more important things.
"Don't you like it?" He put more pressure
into his stroke.
"Oh—"
"Yes?"
"Bastard."
"Yes, then. Do you like the chaps?
I always wanted a pair. I would have taken a cowboy hat too, but
the hair grease prevented me."
"Did you at least shoot the band?"
Krycek laughed, making his hand jump a
little, which in turn made Mulder whimper. "If fucking you gets this
kind of result every time, I should never stop. But not now and not
here." His hand
suddenly gripped.
Mulder yelped. "I need those.
Damned tease," he said in a strangled voice.
"You'll get them back soon." Krycek grabbed
Mulder's tie and used it as a leash to lead him out. Mulder went
back and forth from aroused to enraged over this treatment. //Why
am I letting him do this to me?//
When they walked into the main room Mulder
saw rednecks sprawled out on tables, on the floor, on the bar, near the
door... //This is not a Dr. Suess story. At least he knocked the
band out.// Some of them might not still be alive, but somehow Mulder
felt disconnected from his usually scheduled conscience. As they
reached the door, Krycek stopped and turned to give Mulder a kiss, open-mouthed,
full tongue, that made him shake with lust. //This is why I let him treat
me like this.//
Krycek pulled back and smiled as Mulder
followed, trying to get back to where they left off. "Patience, Mulder."
He took a better hold on the tie and let Mulder out the door and deep into
a nearby alley. Then he resumed his attack on Mulder's groin.
"We could have just done it in the men's
room. Not much difference," Mulder gasped. When a rat ran over
his feet, he said, "Actually, the bathroom might be cleaner."
"Of course there's a difference.
We're outside. I can feel the night air on my skin." Krycek
unzipped and pulled down Mulder's pants, exposing Mulder's hard, already
weeping cock. "Can't you?"
The cool air combined with the warmth of
the fingers that stroked and squeezed his cock made Mulder writhe.
"Yes," he hissed.
"Good. Strip me."
"All the way?"
"You could leave the sweater. Then
you're going to fuck me until I come screaming your name. Do you
have all that, or do I have to go over it again?"
"I think I have it."
"Good. Now get to it."
7. My intuition nearly makes up for my
lack of self-judgment.
Alex felt a moment of trepidation as he
gave his commands. Mulder, his eyes black and gleaming with an almost mindless
lust, certainly looked amenable, but who knew when his usual self would
kick back in and blow it all to hell?. //But I want this; I need
this.//
Mulder gave him a look and then proceeded
to slowly unbuckle the chaps, "accidentally" brushing briefly against his
groin every so often. The older man removed Alex's jeans and boxers
in slow, sensuous slides. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke... until
they were all pooled around his ankles, hobbling him. //Wait a minute... //
Mulder abruptly turned Alex to face the
brick wall. His hand came up under the sweater to pinch and tease
Alex's nipples, while his tongue started a path at the small of the younger
man's back and
drifted down the crack of his ass before
finally circling the puckered opening. Alex sighed, then shrieked
his appreciation as the tongue thrust in at the same time Mulder pinched
his nipples. //It's always good to be in the hands of a man who knows his
business...//
Mulder's hands drifted lower until one
stroked the underside of Alex's cock while the other toyed with his balls.
"If you don't fuck me now, I'm going to come without you," Alex said.
He bit back a protest when Mulder's hands and tongue abandoned him, leaving
him shivering in the cool air. Alex heard foil tear and smiled.
It hadn't taken Mulder long to find the right gear in the jacket.
The comical ffft! of the lubricant tube spitting out its contents made
Alex smirk.
The feel of the warm lubricant being spread
into him made him shudder. Warm because Mulder had carried it in
the jacket, held near his chest, heating it with the warmth of his own
body. //If you're going to think yourself into coming, what do you
need him for?// Then he felt the pressure of Mulder's cock starting
to ease into him. //Oh, yeah, that's why.//
"Just give it to me," Alex said, trying
to keep a needy whine out of his voice. "Hard and fast."
Cool, cool voice. Damn him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"If you insist."
Alex felt the first thrust all the way
to the back of his teeth. "Yes!"he screamed. Taking that as
encouragement, Mulder continued. So hard, so deep, so good... The
friction alone did terrible things
to Alex's self-control. Mulder's
weight and heat all along his back only added to a growing, overwhelming
pleasure that felt as sharp and bright as a knife edge. And as beautiful
and deadly...
Then Mulder's hand started to work Alex's
cock, stroking, squeezing, pinching. Alex's mind dissolved, and he
came with a roar before going limp in his former partner's embrace.
As he leaned back, breathing hard, he realized that Mulder had stopped
moving inside him, even though Mulder hadn't reached orgasm
himself. Inhuman self-control or
something else?
"Mulder?"
"You forgot something." His hands
left Alex's cock. Alex tried to look back to see what he was doing
but couldn't.
"What?"
"My name. You said you'd scream it
as you came."
"Maybe you just didn't work hard enough
to deserve it."
Then Mulder's tie fell down in a loop around
Alex's neck and began to tighten as Mulder started to move again.
Terror choked Alex about as hard as that slip of silk did. //Stupid,
Alex! When he's sane he tries to kill you, and you left yourself
completely open to him while he's insane?// He struggled, but Mulder
had a firm grip on the tie and continued to pump.
Alex felt his chest trying to explode and
saw lights and colors in the growing blackness. Every touch of the
cool breeze and movement Mulder made reverberated through his body in bolts
of pleasure. //I'm going to die, and I'm going to come... again.//
When Mulder exploded inside him, the tie tightened one last time, sparking
flowers of blinding light in the darkness that started to envelop him,
and he fell into the roar of what could have been a second orgasm.
//MULDER!//
The tie loosened. The first rush
of air tasted so sweet and hit Alex like pain at the same time. He
gulped it. "You son of a bitch," he rasped.
"What's good for the goose, Krycek," Mulder
gasped. "I can tell you liked it from the way you clamped around
me tight enough to almost take my cock off."
"I didn't scream your name."
"Sure you did." Mulder pulled him back
into a tighter embrace.
//Smug bastard,// Alex thought but settled
back into a moment of peace. He had Mulder inside and behind him
after some of the most explosive sex he'd ever had. He'd just cut
a swath of pain and fear through a bunch of redneck asswipes. He'd
flipped off the Consortium. Life was pretty good.
"What now?" Mulder asked, still breathing
hard.
Alex grinned. "I take you home."
22. False hope is better than no hope
at all.
Smiling, Alex lazed in bed.
He idly stroked his fingers through his lover's soft hair and stretched
just so he could better feel the legs still entwined with his own.
Few things made him happier than waking up after a great night of sex and
violence.
He rarely wasted time on regrets, but right
now he regretted having to live his life on the run. If he had a
permanent residence he could install Mulder there as his favorite sex toy.
//One night, and you're already picking out china patterns and dreaming
of a dungeon built for two. When did you turn so mushy and sentimental?//
The older man's stamina had surprised him.
They'd had sex three more times after they reached the hotel room, never
mind the heavy petting in the cab on the ride here. Mulder had a
talent for giving blowjobs that amazed Alex. It reached the point
where he would touch Mulder, and they would both be ready to go again.
Alex could get used to a life of non-stop sex occasionally interrupted
by a good fight. Maybe he could do both at once too. This was Mulder
after all.
Mulder burrowed into his side, then looked
up and asked, his eyes and voice blurred with exhaustion, "What time is
it?"
"Ten."
"Oh, shit, I have to go to work..."
"Take a vacation."
"Huh?"
"I know this is a foreign thought to you,
but take a vacation. Take some time where you don't have to deal
with vampire towns or homicidal bugs."
"What would I do with my time?"
"You could spend today in bed with me."
Alex kissed him deeply.
"I would feel so lazy."
"I'd make sure you had things to do with
your time."
Mulder grinned. "Then keep me busy."
Affirmations
by Viridian5
1. As I let go of my feelings of guilt,
I am in touch with my inner sociopath.
