by Gaby
However, he never flinched or gave a start, indicating he was indeed awake. On
the contrary, he kept his breathing patterns even and slow, not moving an inch.
That way, he was able to listen and learn, and possibly get the upper hand on
any intruders.
He knew he had heard something. And, considering the past, Skinner knew he still
had enemies, and he could be a target, security system installed or not.
The big man lay motionless, listening to the typical sounds of the night. Very
light traffic from 17 floors below. The soft hum from the dishwasher downstairs.
The steady ticking of the old clock hanging in the hallway. Other than that—nothing. No other person's breathing, no silent steps on thick carpet, no snick
of a safety being clicked off.
Nothing.
Skinner waited another minute before he turned to his right side, making it look
like he was moving in his sleep. He let the intruder—if there indeed was one—
believe he had settled in the new position before he slowly opened one eye
fractionally, looking around the side of the master bedroom he could now see.
He hadn't bothered with the curtains so the faint moonlight, obscured by rainy
clouds, illuminated the room. Most of it was still hidden in darkness but
Skinner was able to make out the antique bureau against the wall he was looking
at, with the tasteful print hanging over it. Nobody was crouching next to it,
trying to hide in the shadows. The door to the hallway was still half open, the
way he had left it when he had gone to bed. Nobody could have squeezed through
it without opening it further, and the hinges would have squeaked. He hadn't
gotten around to oiling them yet.
Skinner silently berated himself for placing his service weapon on the bureau,
not the bedside table, the way he normally did. He could clearly see his watch,
his glasses, the outline of the book he hadn't opened in weeks though it was
actually a pretty decent crime novel...the small lamp could be used as weapon if
push came to shove, but not when the intruder was holding a gun.
The big man realized he had to take a look at the other side of the room, even
if it meant turning his back on the door—which was a big risk, considering the
fact that there could still be someone lurking outside. He decided to fake
having a nightmare, and threw himself on his left side, punching the mattress
with his fist and moaning a little, before settling back down.
After a minute—in which he still didn't detect any other person in his bedroom—he slowly opened one eye again, shielded by the arm which was thrown across
his face.
Nothing.
He saw the window, the door to the ensuite bathroom—wide open so he wouldn't
run against it when he sleepwalked to the john to take a leak—his closet, with
every door closed. Nobody would hide in there anyway, Skinner reasoned. The
bathroom was the safest guess but he doubted anyone was lurking there.
If his instincts hadn't played a cruel trick on him, and someone was indeed in
his apartment, then they were still outside his bedroom.
He was already trying to convince himself that he was wrong about an intruder,
settling back into his pillows, when he heard something. A soft clicking sound,
as if someone was very carefully closing the door to a cabinet. Skinner frowned.
The only thing he could really do was grab his weapon and take a look. He
quickly debated with himself, trying to decide whether to don his bathrobe or
not, but realized it would hinder him in case of a fist fight. So, silently
pulling on boxers and a tee shirt, he picked up his Sig Sauer, and crept toward
the door.
There was no noise, and no movement in the hallway. Skinner frowned. Maybe he
had been imagining things after all. He grabbed his weapon tightly, safety
clicked off, and opened the door a little, wincing when the hinges gave a tiny
squeak.
Holding his breath, he stepped into the dark hallway, waiting a few moments
until his eyes were able to focus on the shadows. He realized with a start that
he had forgotten to grab his glasses, berating himself silently for the
oversight. Maybe he really was getting too old for this spy shit, he grumbled
inwardly, slowly inching down the hall, deciding it was better to try and find
out if anyone was indeed hiding in the shadows then to go back and get his
glasses. With his luck, he would be shot in the back while he was leaning over
his bedside table.
The door to the guestroom stood slightly open. Skinner was absolutely positive
that it had been closed when he went to bed. Swallowing nervously, clutching the
weapon even tighter, he inched forward, back pressed to the wall, until he was
right next to the door. He stopped and listened. Nothing.
Well, here goes nothing, he thought, and burst into the guestroom, gun trained
and pointing chest-high. The room was empty, except for a pile of discarded
clothing.
Torn black jeans. A tee shirt drenched in blood. Dusty, wellworn boots. A
battered leather jacket.
There it was again, that soft clicking sound he had heard before! Swivelling
around, Skinner headed back into the hallway, now seeing a sliver of light under
the closed door leading to the guest bathroom.
Skinner shook his head in disbelief. How stupid could he get? Why hadn't he seen
it before? It should have been obvious from the start who it was that had broken
into his condo. Which, he chuckled, wasn't entirely correct—the man had his
own set of keys, after all. Not that he used them. He preferred to test his
skills by disabling Skinner's security system.
The big man moved towards the closed door, pressing himself against the wall
next to it. He never knew in what condition the other man would be in, and he
didn't want to risk being shot through the door. He had been attacked once
because the other man was still in killing mode. It had taken weeks for his
broken ribs to heal.
Skinner knocked softly on the closed door, pulling his arm back immediately
afterwards, taking it out of potential danger. "Alex? Are you okay? Open the
door, please."
At first there was nothing, no sound, no movement. Then he heard a couple of
tentative steps, and the door was opened a crack. Skinner took a deep breath and
pushed the door open wide, still standing to the side, not knowing what to
expect.
"You can come in. I'm no danger to you," Krycek said softly, in a voice which
was completely drained of emotion. "Sorry I woke you."
Skinner clicked the safety back on, and stashed the gun in the waistband of his
boxers, before he entered the small bathroom. What he saw made him gasp out
loud.
"Jesus, Alex!"
Skinner could only see Krycek's right side, but the cuts and bruises on his arm,
his thigh, and his ribcage were enough to make the older man pale.
Slowly, Skinner turned Krycek's back towards him, hissing when he saw the angry
red bruises there, some of them already turning black and blue.
"It's nothing," Krycek muttered.
"Doesn't look like fucking nothing to me!" Skinner all but yelled. He tried to
force Krycek to turn more but the younger man balked. Skinner used more force,
grabbing the naked man's shoulders tightly and pushing. "Let me see your left
side, Alex."
Sighing, Krycek turned around, eyes closed in defeat. He knew what reaction he
would have to face.
He was not mistaken.
"Shit, Alex!" Skinner exclaimed when he saw the vicious cut on the younger man's
biceps, slashing from shoulder to elbow.
"It's okay, really. It's just a flesh wound," Krycek tried to reassure the other
man.
"Flesh wound, my ass," Skinner muttered, rummaging around the cabinet for
disinfectant and cotton balls.
"You should see the other guy," Krycek joked feebly.
Skinner didn't crack a smile. He knew the other guy—or guys, probably—were
very dead indeed.
"What was it this time?" he asked resignedly instead, beginning to clean the
knife wound.
"Blew up a clone lab." Krycek's voice was flat.
Skinner sighed. He knew those were the hardest for the younger man. "It's time
they gave you a desk job," he joked feebly, taking a closer look at the gash. It
really was only a flesh wound though the knife had cut deeply. "Alex, you know
this arm is your Achilles heel. You know better than to fight with it," he
gently admonished. "You know they told you that it'll never be one hundred
percent so you should be careful with it. It's been almost a year since they
gave you your arm back but it's still not as strong as the other one and it
never will be, no matter how much you exercise it. They told you all that. And
still you-"
"I know when I got that arm," Krycek softly interjected, his words carrying much
more meaning.
Skinner looked up, smiling a little. He knew what the other man was implying.
The day the Healers had given Krycek his left arm was the day the two men became
a couple.
It had been the best and worst day in Skinner's life.
"I can still see your dead body lying on the concrete floor of the parking lot,"
he whispered, tenderly beginning to bandage Krycek's left arm.
"I still remember the look on his face when he shot me. His eyes were a dead
giveaway. I knew it was a clone right from the beginning," Krycek mumbled,
smiling softly.
This dialogue was a ritual they usually indulged in whenever Krycek showed up in
the middle of the night. It opened old wounds but it helped them reconnect.
"When I opened my eyes after the Healers revived me, and I saw you... the
bandaged head should've been a tip off but I immediately knew it was you—the
real you—because of your eyes," Krycek continued softly, reaching up with his
right hand to touch Skinner's face. "The way you looked at me..." His voice
trailed off, and his smile broadened at the memory. "I really wish I had seen
you fight the Healers. They told me you put up quite a struggle."
"I didn't know who they were," Skinner protested obediently, keeping with their
script as they walked down memory lane. He knew Krycek needed to hear this and
he gladly obliged. "I came to the parking lot and saw you lying there...and I
lost it. I realized I had lost you. When these Healers came...I didn't know
what they wanted, coming after you. I just wanted to protect you."
That was Krycek's favorite line. His smile reached his eyes for the first time.
He had always known he was attracted to the big man though he never acted on it.
It wasn't part of the job the Consortium had given him, and he didn't have the
liberty of indulging himself. So, he stuck to fantasies. The way Skinner had
treated him made it obvious the older man hated his guts, though Krycek had
always suspected some buried attraction directed his way.
It had taken his death for Skinner to realize he was losing a man he admired and
loved. Seeing him being revived and given his lost arm was the best thing that
had ever happened to him. Right after the worst thing that had happened—
Krycek's death.
"The total despair in your eyes which turned into unconditional love...I
probably would've asked the Healers to kill me again without it—new arm or
not."
"Don't say that, Alex, please."
"They only revived me and gave me my arm because I was too valuable for them to
lose. With my skills and my training, the Resistance needs me. They didn't do it
out of kindness," Krycek argued hotly.
Skinner sighed. He knew the younger man was right. He was just glad he had been
there while it happened. Not only had he witnessed a miracle—Krycek had also
forced the Healers to rid the older man of the damned critters in his blood.
They were both healthier now than they had ever been in their life.
They were both working for the Resistance now, with Skinner trying his best to
help from within the government. A job at the FBI did have its advantages on
occasion. Krycek, however, was still one of the Resistance's best operatives,
and they needed all the help they could get. There were still small pockets of
the Consortium hiding away, not only in the US but all over the world. There
were still aliens to fight. A lot of times Skinner didn't even know where his
lover was. Krycek would be gone for days, or sometimes even weeks, and then show
up on his doorstep, most of the time battered and bruised, before he vanished
again.
They sure weren't a typical couple, Skinner thought ruefully, smiling a little.
They didn't live together, didn't go out and have a good time. In fact, they
were glad to have a few hours to themselves before the next assignment separated
them once more. But that was the best they could hope for, constantly fighting
to save the world, and besides, you just didn't tame a panther, and Krycek was
nothing less than a wildcat.
"Maybe you should've gone to the Healers right away, Alex. This looks nasty,"
Skinner commented while dabbing iodine on the smaller cuts.
"No, I wanted to see you first," the younger man replied forcefully, hissing
when the medicine stung a small cut right under his eye. "I'll go to them first
thing tomorrow morning." He turned around to look at his lover. "I...I probably
won't be here when you wake up," he said apologetically.
Skinner merely nodded. He already knew that, expected it. Krycek mostly appeared
in the middle of the night, demanded some attention, and then left before
sunrise. The older man was happy to give him whatever he needed.
What he needed most was sex.
Krycek needed rough, wild, almost brutal sex whenever he showed up after an
assignment. Skinner reasoned it was his lover's way of feeling human again,
though his guess was as good as anyone's. Krycek never talked about it. He
showed up, often woke Skinner by deepthroating the older man's dick, and then
proceeded to give them both a workout in bed that left at least Skinner sore for
a few days. And he wasn't even the recipient.
After sabotaging and killing aliens and hybrids and everything in between,
Krycek succumbed to the most basic need a human being could have: sex. He always
left Skinner's condo bruised, with fingerprints on his body, bite marks on his
skin. It was the only way the younger man would truly reconnect with his inner
self. Skinner had found that out once when he tried to "reward" Krycek with slow
lovemaking. It had freaked his lover out.
"Did I ever tell you about my left arm?" Krycek suddenly asked, looking at the
bandaged limb, a slightly far-away expression on his face. Skinner, who was
startled out of his reverie by that question, could only frown.
"Tell me what, Alex?" he asked hesitantly, not entirely sure where this was
leading.
"When I was about twelve, I did something...stupid," Krycek began, lost in
memory. Skinner bit his lip. He knew the younger man had been brought up in the
Consortium, being trained for his job since early childhood. In fact, he had
been "Bill Mulder's boy" as Krycek had once put it, and Skinner could only
imagine what that entailed. In any case, doing "something stupid" was a Very Bad
Thing, and he shuddered just thinking about his lover as a boy facing the
consequences.
"See, all these men had been using me for quite a while, and I really didn't
understand what they liked about it. They seemed to enjoy themselves immensely,
but it only hurt me. Real bad." Krycek sighed, still lost in thought, and
Skinner winced. God, what had these bastards done to his lover? "They always
said it was part of my training, that I was learning invaluable skills, but I
really didn't understand how not being able to walk was helping me any.
"So anyway, one day I decide that it must have something to do with the part
you're playing. You know, that it hurts when you're receiving, but that it's fun
when you're giving. So, I wanted to try this out myself. Never even occurred to
me to try it with a girl. They only started teaching me that about a year
later. So, I went and raped Jeffrey."
Skinner stared at Krycek in disbelief. The younger man had mentioned the assault
in the same tone of voice someone else would comment on the weather. And
Jeffrey? Jeffrey who? Spender?
"His old man was livid. Wanted to have me killed. I had no idea what I had done
wrong; after all, everybody did it to me, right? And Jeff, the little pervert,
actually enjoyed it." Krycek gave a slightly put-upon sigh, as if all of this
really had been blown out of proportion. "So anyway, Old Spender wanted to
eliminate me but Bill Mulder intervened. The others also said they had already
invested too much into my "education" to get rid of me now, so they decided I
should just be punished severely instead. Damn, that was the worst whipping I
had ever received." Another put-open sigh. "But Spender wanted, demanded more.
Said I had to learn who my master was. Said I needed to be marked as Consortium
property. As if that hadn't already been imprinted on my soul. Or what was left
of it.
"They thought long and hard, and it was finally decided that they would brand
me. Not with a branding iron or anything, but with cigarettes. Spender thought
it was only fair to use his damned cancer sticks since it was his son had been
raped. Bill Mulder said I was his boy so he would punish me. In the end, he used
one of the cigars he liked to smoke at the time."
Krycek turned to face his lover, holding up his left arm. Skinner just stood
there, mouth agape, not able to believe or digest any of the horrific things the
younger man was telling him in a rational, calm voice.
"He burned me right here," Krycek went on, pointing to the inside of his left
elbow. "Hurt like a bitch. They had to get four of their thugs to hold me down,
I was struggling so hard. I think I fainted at some point but I'm not entirely
sure.
"And every time after that incident, whenever I was out of line I would look at
that mark and realize I didn't stand a chance against the Consortium. I hated
that mark more than anything. Spender always threatened to burn a ring around
the mark I already had, brandishing his cigarette. Told me I should wait till
Bill Mulder got tired of me, then he would claim me and use me as his ashtray."
Skinner wanted nothing more than to wrap the younger man in a bear hug, and
never let him go again. But he knew this was the last thing Krycek wanted or
needed, so he merely stood there, listening to the horror story.
"When Mulder—Fox, not Bill—dragged me to Russia...man, did I have a bad
feeling about this right from the start. I had tried to leave the Consortium
several times, and I had always been brought back. They didn't trust me one bit
but they needed me, giving me shitty jobs to do after I screwed up the FBI
thing."
Skinner knew damned well what "the FBI thing" was though he refrained from
commenting.
"So, I'm suddenly in Russia, freezing my ass off, fighting for my life, barely
escaping from the prison—and those fucking peasants hack my fucking arm off! I
honestly thought I would die. I was lying there, on the freezing ground in the
middle of the night, bleeding like a pig, thinking this was the end of it...and
suddenly I realized the mark was gone. They had actually cut off the branding."
Krycek looked at Skinner for the first time, a brilliant smile illuminating his
face, making him look much younger.
"I was free, Walter. For the first time in over twenty years, I suddenly felt
like I was my own man. And I wanted to live. I didn't want to die anymore, no
matter how bad the pain was. So I survived. I found a way back to the States,
and I couldn't wait to show my non-existent arm to Spender. It made him
furious." He grinned even wider. "At about the same time I started working for
the Resistance. I don't think anyone in the Consortium had a clue until it was
too late." He smirked. "Stupid morons, they're usually more paranoid than Fox
Mulder ever was, but I fooled them all."
The younger man stared at his arm again.
"And now I'm whole again. I have a left arm, and it's not branded. Who'd've
thunk it, huh?"
Skinner waited a long moment, still not entirely sure what was expected of him.
Then he took a deep breath, and gave Krycek a hard, demanding kiss, turning the
hug from a loving embrace to a fierce squeeze. Judging by Krycek's reaction, it
was exactly the right thing to do.
"Funny thing is, though, that sometimes I stare at that spot on my arm, feeling
incomplete. Not that I want their mark on my body, I hated that thing, but in a
way it also anchored me." When he saw Skinner's shocked face, Krycek hastened to
explain. "You know, when I was confused or unsure about something I just had to
look at that mark, and I knew who I was and where I belonged. Believe me, I
hated what it stood for, I hated being Consortium property. But I liked the idea
of knowing I was part of something. I had somewhere to come home to. There was
someone waiting."
Krycek frowned, realizing his words didn't make any sense. He tried again.
"I hated the mark and the people who stood behind it," he began slowly, as if
trying it on for size at the same time. "But I liked the symbolism. I liked
being marked. I just hated the mark itself. Does that make sense?"
Skinner didn't think so; he hated the idea of anyone belonging to someone else,
but he nodded anyway because that was what Krycek wanted and needed right now.
Sure enough, the younger man smiled at him happily.
"Sometimes I feel so lost, out there in battle, without any visible signs of
ownership. You own my heart and soul, Walter, but only I can see that. Sometimes
that's not enough. Or maybe it was just drilled into me to think that way.
Forget it." Kryek made a throwing away gesture with his right hand, and took a
few predatory steps towards the older man.
"I want us to go into the bedroom and celebrate the return of the prodigal
assassin," he announced, latching onto Skinner's neck like a vampire. The older
man realized he would be sporting a very noticable hickey the next day. "I want
you to take me and ravish me and make me feel human again, Walter. Think you can
do that?"
Skinner's cock was wide awake, loving Krycek's husky, throaty voice whispering
naughty nothings. "I'll do my best," he croaked, grabbing his lover none too
gently and pushing him down the hall, planning his next moves carefully.
When Skinner woke up the next morning, it was a major effort for him just to
open his eyes. God, he was exhausted! Thank goodness it was Sunday.
They had, just like he knew they would, spent a couple of hours fucking like
rabbits. There was no gentleness, no loving gestures. It was pure, animalistic
sex. Skinner was sure his dick was bruised. He had fucked Krycek's face
forcefully, had taken him from behind viciously, and when his cock couldn't keep
up with the younger man's need to be subdued, he had used a thick dildo which he
proceeded to ram home over and over again until they had both fallen asleep in a
tangled heap of exhausted, sweaty flesh.
Skinner suddenly realized that he wasn't alone in the bed, and he turned his
head to look at a sleeping Krycek. He raised a surprised eyebrow. He really
hadn't expected to see the younger man this morning.
There were dark rings under Krycek's eyes, and the cut high on his cheekbone was
a little puffy. Skinner let his eyes wander downwards, to the hickeys on
Krycek's neck, the dark bruises his thumbs had left on the sides of his lover's
face when he had forced the younger man's jaw open as he rammed his cock home.
The covers had slid down to his lover's waist, so Skinner could also see the
angry bite marks around the nipples, on the stomach. He could make out more
marks in the shape of fingersprints decorating the waist, the hip, the ribcage.
He knew there were more bitemarks on Krycek's ass, more bruises on his thighs
and ankles from the struggling and battling.
It had been a violent night; Krycek had fought wildly but had been subdued by
sheer force. Skinner had used his greater bulk to keep the younger man pinned to
the mattress, had forced him to take whatever he dished out, and then repeated
the whole thing until Krycek was too exhausted to move.
Skinner enjoyed the primal sex although he kept wondering if this was really
what Krycek needed after coming home from another violent, potentially deadly
job. Still, it seemed to be exactly what his lover wanted and needed, and the
younger man had fallen asleep with a slight smile on his face.
When Skinner's eyes travelled back up to Krycek's face he was startled to see
someone looking at him with solemn, green eyes.
"Hey," Krycek greeted him softly, a satisfied little smile curling his lips.
"Hey," Skinner replied. "That sure is a nice surprise." He let his right index
finger trail down Krycek's nose, poking the tip. The younger man's smile turned
into a grin, and he moved his head quickly to capture the finger with his teeth.
He bit down on the fingertip gently before letting it slip out of his mouth.
"Guess I was more tired than I thought," he mumbled, yawning widely and curling
his tongue in a catlike way. "Damn jetlag."
Skinner's eyebrow rose. So, Krycek had been abroad. He still looked tired as
hell, but not as ragged as he did only a few hours earlier. "So, how are you
feeling?"
Krycek closed his eyes again. The contentment he was feeling was showing on his
face. "Human," he replied. Then he opened his eyes again, dark green eyes
flashing with something close to happiness. "Make love to me, Walter," he asked
solemnly, making the request the most important thing in the world.
The older man smiled broadly. He enjoyed their frantic fuck sessions, but he
also loved the tender lovemaking they indulged in when Krycek was feeling
grounded. Still, the night before had taken its toll. "I'd love to, Alex, but I
think I broke the equipment," he said mournfully.
Krycek's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Well, let's see about that!" And with
that, he dove under the covers to nibble and lick his lover's cock to life.
"Seems to be in perfect working order," Krycek reported a few minutes later, his
head popping out from under the covers, his grin showing off two rows of
perfectly white teeth. "Not bad for an old geezer."
"Hey!" Skinner swatted the younger man's butt affectionately. "I'll show you old
geezer, grasshopper!" He grinned, and then stroked his lover's face tenderly.
"What would you like, Alex?"
"Nice and slow," Krycek replied, turning onto his back, and rising his knees
expectantly.
"You sure you aren't too tender?" Skinner asked, concerned he would hurt his
lover unduly. The younger man's anus was red and swollen, not surprising after
the workout it got that night.
"No, I'm fine. Just go nice and slow, okay?"
"Okay." Skinner reached for the lube, giving Krycek a quick kiss on the tip of
his nose. "But you promise to yell as soon as I'm hurting you, okay?"
"Well, if you don't get a move on, I will hurt you," Krycek growled,
wriggling his ass impatiently.
Skinner chuckled, and began to gently tease the tiny opening with coated
fingers. Krycek sighed happily, and relaxed, soon allowing the older man to add
a second, then a third finger.
When he was absolutely sure his lover was sufficiently prepared, Skinner slicked
up his cock, moved between Krycek's legs and slowly but steadily pushed his way
in. Once he was sheathed to the hilt, he let his weight drop on his elbows next
to Krycek's shoulders, and entangled his fingers in the silky hair. The younger
man wrapped his legs around Skinner's waist and, digging his heels into the
older man's butt, forced his lover to move.
Skinner dropped his head, locking lips with Krycek. With each slow stroke he
kissed his lover's face, his eyelids, his chin, his nose, his high cheekbones,
his forehead. Holding the head steady, he denied Krycek any movement, taking
every liberty to shower him with love and affection. No matter how much the
younger man tried to hurry him on, Skinner kept up the steady rhythm of slow
strokes, pulling out almost all the way, then pushing back in, hitting the
prostate every time, causing Krycek to moan and writhe in ecstasy.
They locked eyes, panting slightly, when Skinner felt he was getting close, and
he let one hand drift down to Krycek's cock, pumping and stroking it in time
with his own rhythm. Krycek's hand moved to join him there, and with their
entwined fingers they stroked the younger man to a soul-shattering climax, with
Skinner following him closely.
They panted heavily, and the older man let his body drop on top of Krycek who
relished the weight, embracing the broad back fiercely.
"Thank you, Walter," he whispered, kissing the bald head. "That was incredible."
Skinner chuckled tiredly. "I'm amazed the little fella hasn't fallen off yet.
But what a way to go."
Krycek laughed out loud, and kissed the other man again. "Okay, old geezer, roll
over. You're crushing me here," he ordered softly, smiling happily.
When Skinner moved away, Krycek stretched his long frame and slowly got out of
the bed. He grabbed some fresh clothes out of the closet and pulled them on
without bothering to shower. He loved the smell of sex, the eau de Skinner, and
he wasn't going to wash it off. Once the Healers were through restoring him to
his old self he could still grab a hot shower at the Resistance's headquarters.
Or, if he was really lucky, he wouldn't have a new assignment right away, and he
would be able to spend another day or two at Skinner's, indulging himself with a
long soak in the huge tub in his lover's ensuite bathroom. Not that he believed
he would see the other man again so soon but he could hope, couldn't he?
"Will you be here next Friday?" Skinner suddenly asked, still sprawled on the
bed, while Krycek was busy lacing up his sneakers.
"What? Oh, I dunno. Why?" They never made "dates" because they both knew
Krycek's job didn't allow them to make plans. Skinner knew that, so he never
asked for something he couldn't possibly have. So, the request was rather odd.
Krycek frowned, and looked up when the older man didn't reply. After a long
moment, and doing the math, he understood the significance of that day. "Oh," he
said softly. Then, with a small smile tugging his lips, showing how pleased he
was that Skinner regarded that date as something special, he repeated, "Oh."
Krycek got up, and walked towards his lover, bending down to give him a chaste,
loving kiss on the lips. "I'll try my damnest to be here next Friday, Walter,"
he promised. "It's not everyday we have our first year anniversary to celebrate,
huh?"
And with a last, brilliant smile as a parting gift, he was gone.
Skinner spent another few minutes lounging in the bed, inhaling Krycek's
lingering scent, before he decided to get up. A long hot shower was exactly what
he needed, and even though his cock was spent and sensitive to the touch after
the rigorous workout of the last few hours, he gave himself a few encouraging
strokes and squeezes, pinching his swollen nipples, imagining Krycek's fingers
on him. And damn it, his dick even began to stiffen a little again. Skinner
shook his head in amazement, and let go of his not-so-small friend to give
himself a thorough scrub.
Revived by the shower and dressed in soft, worn sweats and tee, Skinner went
downstairs to get the coffee machine going. He needed some caffeine badly. Then
the big man sighed, staring at the closed fridge door. He hated cooking for
himself, and since he wasn't particularly hungry to begin with he quickly
debated with himself whether or not to just eat some fruit and then call for
take-out around noon. But he decided a large breakfast with high cholesterol and
lots of calories was an even better option.
Whistling to himself, Skinner prepared some bacon and eggs, generously buttered
his toast, and went for the sugar overkill when he discovered some poptarts in
the back of a cupboard. Krycek must've brought them with him once; he had a
disgustingly sweet tooth.
Skinner pulled a face when he took the first bite out of his poptart, thinking
it tasted absolutely and completely horrific, but his body happily responded to
the sugar intake, so he devoured the whole thing. What the hell, he thought, my
arteries will be clogged up with cholesterol before the sugar will have a chance
to kill me anyway, and he proceeded to shovel more crispy bacon into his mouth.
For someone who had thought he wasn't hungry Skinner ate a surprisingly large
breakfast, and then felt delightfully rebellious when he decided not to clear
the table right away. Instead, tenderly patting his slightly bulging stomach, he
climbed the stairs and retrieved Krycek's discarded clothing from the guest
bedroom.
The leather jacket was missing. Alex must have taken it with him, Skinner
thought, hoping it wasn't too stained with blood. He looked at the torn jeans
and the bloody tee shirt, deciding they weren't salvagable. What the heck,
Skinner shrugged, and stuffed the clothes into a plastic bag to throw it into
the trash later. That particular pair of jeans had always hugged Krycek's ass so
nicely, Skinner remembered mournfully, hoping the younger man had another pair
cut so tightly.
The big man cleaned Krycek's boots meticulously, and threw his lover's underwear
and socks in the hamper. Damn, he should get at least one load done today,
Skinner thought sighing. But, just like not clearing the table, he felt
rebellious and ignored the dirty clothing. He wanted to pamper himself. It was
Sunday, and he had spent too many years working at the Hoover or at home on this
day. Now, all he wanted to do was veg out on the couch, read the Sunday Times,
and then watch a game on TV. If he couldn't have the best thing—Krycek—to
spend time with, he could at least do the next best thing, and that was wasting
away an entire day.
Krycek.
Skinner smiled into his third cup of coffee, completely ignoring the
international news section of his newspaper. They should do something special on
Friday, he decided. Now that he almost had Krycek's word on it, Skinner knew the
younger man would do just about everything to be there and spend the day with
his lover. God, an entire year. They had made it that long. Skinner shook his
head in disbelief. They sure didn't have your average, normal relationship. They
saw each other once, if they were lucky, twice a month, and mostly only for a
few hours, maybe a day or two. Most of the time Skinner didn't even know where
Krycek was or what he was doing. The younger man would never tell him where or
what his next assignment was, saying it was best that way. Skinner didn't like
that, he felt like a stupid wife being told she couldn't possibly understand
what her husband did for a living, though he rationally knew that it was safer
for him not to know too much, in case someone decided to grab him and pump him
for information.
So, Krycek would most probably be spending Friday with him. Skinner grinned
happily. Maybe they could go out, he thought. They had never done that before.
They should go and have a nice dinner, nothing overly romantic and sappy, but a
quiet little affair, intimate enough to arouse. Yes, the big man decided, I will
wine and dine my lover. He knew a cozy little Italian restaurant, its owner an
old buddy of his, and he was certain Gino would keep a table reserved for them
on such short notice but still wouldn't hold it against them if Krycek's
unpredictable schedule caused them to miss dinner. Skinner decided to call Gino
as soon as the restaurant opened around noon.
Then there was the matter of a gift. Skinner wanted to give Krycek something to
celebrate their special day, though he drew a blank when it came to a good idea.
What do you get your average assassin for his first year anniversary anyway?
The younger man had been going on about this marking business for a while now,
Skinner realized, remembering the horrific tale about the brandings. It was
never overly obvious but the big man remembered the way Krycek relished teeth
marks or hickeys, fingering them dreamily, mumbling about being marked for at
least a few days. No, Skinner immediately corrected himself, Krycek never said
"marked" in that regard, he said "belong." Now he remembered it clearly. Krycek
would stare at a bruise or a bite mark left from their rough coupling, and
breathe happily, "now I belong to someone for a while."
Skinner frowned. He didn't like the idea of marking anyone as property, and
Krycek's childhood memories had only strengthened his resolve. He knew the
Healers would take care of any temporary marks on Krycek's body anyway so he
wasn't too concerned about biting the younger man, or leaving bruises on him.
Still, the idea of permanently marking someone...his cock sprang to life eagerly
at the thought, shocking the hell out of Skinner. He didn't like the underlying
thought of slavery, dammit, though he had to admit that Krycek had adamantly
kept the two things apart. The younger man had talked about being marked as
Consortium property, had said how much he hated it. But whenever he fingered
Skinner's temporary marks, he mumbled about "belonging," not "being property."
Skinner remembered how Krycek talked about hating the brand he had worn, but
loved the symbolism of knowing he had a home, and someone to come home to—even
though he hated the home, and the people in it.
Maybe it was time to give Krycek a more permanent symbol of belonging to
Skinner. Maybe he should buy the younger man a ring, like a commitment band. He
almost immediately discarded the idea. Krycek wasn't the type to wear a ring,
and it would probably be too dangerous for him to display a connection to
someone else so openly. Skinner thought about an earring. A small emerald for
Krycek's left earlobe maybe, to make his eyes sparkle even more. And even though
the mental image this conjured up made his cock throb again, Skinner realized
Krycek wouldn't wear the earring permanently. Especially not a sparkling one
like that. Wouldn't do to try and break into some secret Consortium lab and have
his earring sparkle in the dim light, giving his position away.
Skinner sighed. Maybe he would come up with a good gift before Friday.
He had just gotten off the phone with Gino, who would happily keep a table for
two reserved, no strings attached, when Skinner heard a key in the front door.
For a quick second he desperately tried to remember where his gun was, then he
saw Krycek standing in the open doorway.
"Hi," the older man said, confused. "What are you doing here?" When he realized
that this hadn't come out right, he added, smiling happily, "It's a nice
surprise though." He opened his arms invitingly, and Krycek threw himself into
the embrace, grinning.
Skinner took a closer look at the younger man. The cut on the cheekbone was
gone, as were the bruises on his jaw. Krycek looked well, almost rested.
"How's the arm?"
Krycek peeled himself out of his leather jacket, showing his lover the biceps
peeking out from under the tee shirt. There was only a faint, slightly pink scar
left. Skinner knew from experience that there would be no mark left after
another couple of days.
"Hey, that's wonderful," the older man enthused, gently running his hand up and
down the once injured arm. "Looks like new. All the bruises are gone?"
"Yeah," Krycek muttered sullenly under his breath. "No more marks anywhere."
Skinner frowned. There it was again. Krycek's obsession with marks, permanent or
not. He really would have to do something about that. "Well, I'm glad you're
looking so good, Alex. So, did you just come here to gloat with your young,
taut, beautiful body, or is there another reason? You can't have your poptarts.
I ate them all this morning."
Krycek frowned for a moment, utterly confused by this non-sequitur. Then he
broke into a smile, imagining Skinner eating the disgustingly sweet treat. Then
his smile grew even wider when he registered the compliment his lover had just
paid him. "Nah, the Healers said my arm needed a little more time to regenerate.
The Resistance started planning my next assignment but they said I could take a
couple of days off. They don't need me in the preliminary stages of strategic
planning, they said. Which is bullshit, of course, since I'm the operative, but
I thought, what the hell, I prefer spending some more time with you anyway."
Skinner's face split in two with a silly grin when he heard that. "Well, in that
case, I'd say, come and get it while it's hot, buddy," he growled with a sexy
undertone in his voice, opening his arms again invitingly.
Krycek buried his head in the broad chest, letting their lips crush together
violently. Their kisses were hard and demanding, before the younger man guided
Skinner's head to his neck, urging him to bite and suck him there until Krycek
sported a new hickey. Only then did he sigh happily, and let go of Skinner's
head, allowing the big man to breathe again.
Gently, absently fingering the fresh mark, Krycek gave his lover a come-hither
look and asked throatily, "Wanna go upstairs and do nasty things to my young,
taut, beautiful body?"
Skinner moaned helplessly when he saw the sexy grin on Krycek's face. "You
really did break the equipment this morning, Alex," he replied mournfully. "Give
me a few more hours before I ravish you. Let's make out on the couch instead."
He gave the younger man a devilish smirk. "I'm good at necking," he informed his
lover earnestly.
"Oh, I know," Krycek whispered huskily, forcing Skinner to walk backwards until
they landed on the couch. "But another demonstration might be nice."
Skinner's grin turned leery, and he pounced on the younger man.
When they came up for air a few hours later, both men were totally dishevelled,
panting heavily, and aroused to bursting. They decided to move to the bedroom
instead of having acrobatic sex on the couch—Krycek would be able to work out
the kinks by lounging around all day but Skinner would have to go to work the
next day, and he really didn't relish the idea of not being able to sit because
his back was thrown out.
"I hope you don't mind that I will have to leave you alone tomorrow," Skinner
said ruefully while he trailed soft kisses down the middle of Krycek's chest. "I
wish I could stay home with you but there are a couple of important meetings I
can't cancel..."
"That's okay, Walter, really," Krycek panted, desperately trying to get the
older man to pay attention to his genitals while Skinner happily licked and
nibbled his way down one leg and up the other. "I can't promise you to be here
when you get home tomorrow evening though. The Resistance said they'd call me
when I'm needed, and I fear it'll be sometime tomorrow."
"I know, Alex. Don't worry about it. But you'll be here on Friday, won't you?"
Skinner looked up at the younger man, his mouth hovering close to Krycek's
rockhard dick.
"I'll try," Krycek squeaked, now really desperately trying to get his lover to
swallow him. "I'll try my damndest. Walter, please!"
Skinner grinned evilly before he deepthroated the younger man's cock. Krycek
yelled, and shot his load down his lover's throat within minutes.
He repeated his performance two more times, once while soaking in the huge
bathtub, pillowed on a broad chest and having his dick expertly handled, and
once Monday morning in a hot session of 69 before his lover had to get up and
leave for work.
When Skinner came home that evening, he was greeted by an empty apartment.
The sight that greeted Skinner when he opened the door to his apartment Friday
evening totally and utterly stunned him.
He stood in the doorway, mouth wide open, taking in the dim lighting, the soft
jazz music, and the perfectly set dining room table. There was a starched white
tablecloth, decorated with red rose petals strewn on it, and strategically
placed silver candle holders. The fine china, the good crystal, the good cutlery
—everything looked perfect for an intimate candlelight dinner for two.
The man lighting the last candle turned around with a broad smile on his face,
causing Skinner to gasp loudly.
Krycek was decked out in a tuxedo.
He looked incredibly sleek snd sexy in the black silk jacket. The tux seemed to
be molded to his body like a second skin. That must have been the work of an
excellent tailor, Skinner mused. No off-the-rack tux would look so good.
From the impeccably polished black shoes to the gold cufflinks decorated with
dark green stones—those couldn't possibly be real emeralds, Skinner thought in
amazement, trying to imagine how much they would have cost—Krycek looked like
the proverbial sex on legs.
Cleanly shaven, green eyes sparkling with his unique mix of love and mischief,
his dark hair long enough now for Skinner to card his fingers through
it...Krycek looked breathtaking. There was no other word for it. Skinner was
completely enthralled.
The only thing threatening to ruin the picture a little was the fading smile on
the younger man's face. Krycek, happy beyond belief that his lover was finally
home, had turned around, intending to run up to the big man and ravish him. When
he caught sight of the other man next to Skinner, he couldn't help but frown.
Skinner realized what the problem was, and hastened to introduce their guest.
"Alex, this is Li Chen. Li, this is my Alex."
Krycek eyed the other man warily. He was an old, seemingly ancient Oriental man,
his face leatherly and weather-beaten, full of wrinkles and age spots. He
sported a long, white beard and a thick head of hair, looking a little like the
Chinese version of Albert Einstein. For a second Krycek had the insane urge to
laugh out loud. That man looked like the typical cliche Chinese wise man, he
thought madly. He couldn't possibly exist! Cliches didn't exist. They just
didn't.
And what the hell was he doing in Skinner's apartment anyway? Especially today,
of all days!
Skinner slowly walked up to Krycek, opening his arms. After a long moment, the
younger man relented, and stepped into the waiting embrace. "Alex, you look
beautiful," Skinner whispered, still overwhelmed by the sight that had greeted
him.
Krycek blushed a little. "Men aren't beautiful, Walter," he mumbled,
embarrassed.
"Handsome isn't even close to describing you," Skinner insisted. He gave the
younger man a loving kiss on the forehead before hugging him tightly again. "And
something sure smells wonderful here," he whispered into Krycek's soft hair.
"And there seems to be food cooking, too!"
Krycek chuckled a little, and looked at his lover. "Yeah, there's an entire meal
waiting to be devoured," he explained, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in
the direction of the kitchen.
"You cooked for us?" Skinner asked, pleasantly surprised.
"Um, no. This was supposed to be a day of celebration, after all," Krycek
grinned. "Catered stuff, but I know the deli. The food's delicious." He made a
sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating the kitchen, the dining table, and
himself. "I didn't know if I'd be able to get here today but I wanted to give
you something, you know, to celebrate this special day. I didn't have time to
buy a present or anything so I thought I might just as well organize a little
intimate dinner." Krycek shot a meaningful glance at their unexpected visitor,
blushing at the same time when he realized he had revealed very private
thoughts. He had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, so telling
Skinner how much their anniversary meant to him was a big step. Especially with
the Chinese man still standing next to the door like a statue. Krycek had been
practicing this little speech in his head all day, but he certainly hadn't
planned on having an audience when he told his lover how he felt.
The older man smiled broadly, thrilled and moved by the younger man's soft
words. "Alex, you being here is the best gift I could ever ask for. And seeing
you decked out like this...it's incredible. I'm in awe. Thank you for making it
possible. You made this day so special just by being here."
Krycek smiled a little, still not used to receiving compliments. But their
visitor disturbed him slightly, and he moved out of Skinner's arms. "If this day
is so special, how come we're not alone then?" he asked, trying hard—and
failing—to keep any accusatory tones out of his voice.
Skinner only beamed at him—a reaction Krycek really hadn't expected. "Speaking
of presents," the big man began, dragging his lover towards their visitor.
Krycek reluctantly followed, slightly panicked but also deeply touched by the
firm and reassuring way Skinner took his hand to pull him to the foyer. The way
he continued to hold it even though it was no longer strictly necessary anymore
once they stood in front of their guest. "Alex, you're the most important person
in my life. I love you and I want to see you happy. I've been racking my brain
over this for months trying to come up with the perfect present for you. I
thought I should get you some jewelry, like an earring, or a commitment band
maybe." Krycek's eyes widened, partly surprised and pleased by his lover's
thoughtfulness, partly shocked by the enormity of the words. Skinner saw the
younger man's reaction and smiled reassuringly. "Though I knew right away this
wasn't it," he hastened to add. "Still, I wanted to give you something that
would show you that we belong to each other. That we're two parts of a whole."
Krycek's eyes began to sparkle, and a soft smile touched his lips. He was
obviously moved by Skinner's words.
"A few days ago I saw Kim's tattoo. She has a tiny rose with her husband's
initials around it on her upper arm. It looks really beautiful," Skinner went
on, only to be interrupted by Krycek.
"How come you saw your assistant's naked upper arm?" the younger man asked,
jealousy tinging his voice.
Skinner chuckled, and gave his lover a tender kiss. Krycek was pleasantly
surprised that the older man didn't seem to mind showing such obvious affection
in front of their disturbingly silent visitor. "She accidently spilled coffee
over her sweater and had to take it off to rinse out the stain. So she was
sitting there in a tee shirt. Satisfied?"
Krycek grumbled a little under his breath, more for show than anything, and
finally nodded at Skinner, urging him on.
"So anyway, I complimented her on the tattoo, and we somehow started talking
about tattoos in general, and she recommended Li here." Skinner smiled at their
visitor before turning back to his lover. "Kim's husband is dermatologist, and
he has seen a lot of people who got tattoos, or piercings, for that matter, and
then had to deal with infections or worse because they had gone to quacks. He
knew Li was the best so they decided to go to him when they wanted matching
tattoos instead of engagement rings." Skinner smiled again at the wizened little
man. "So, I went to Li and talked to him, told him about us, and he agreed to
come and meet you."
"Meet me?" Krycek stared at their visitor incredulously. Up until now he had
enjoyed the little tale Skinner was spinning but now it was getting weird.
"Yes. Meet you. I don't tattoo just anyone," Li explained reasonably, speaking
for the first time, startling Krycek.
"Oh, really?" he snapped back, now beginning to get pissed off. Who the hell did
that guy think he was, disrupting their special day, and then being rude on top
of it?
Skinner held up a hand. "Alex," he said soothingly. "Listen to me. I had the
idea of giving you a tattoo as present. It's just an idea, and you don't have to
accept if you don't want to." But Krycek's shining eyes already told Skinner his
idea had been right on target. "Please keep in mind, we're not talking about
exchanging tattoos. I'm not into this type of thing. But I would love to see you
wearing one, especially since it symbolizes the bond between us." Krycek's smile
grew wider by the second. "Nobody's forcing you, Alex. If you say no, I won't be
disappointed or mad at you or anything. It's just an idea. But I still wanted to
make sure to get the best tattoo artist there is, and that's Li."
"It's cool, Walter, really. Yes, I want a tattoo. I want it very much. You know
how much I love it when you mark me."
Skinner immediately stopped him. "No, Alex. I'm not going to mark you. You will
not be my property. And you will not belong to me. We belong to each other.
That's what the tattoo symbolizes. Nothing more, nothing less."
Krycek stared at his lover glumly. "I know that, Walter. I'm not a stupid kid,
you know. And I know the difference between your love marks and the brand I used
to wear," he spat out. Then his mood immediately lifted again with the prospect
of having his very own tattoo from the man he loved more than life itself. "So,
when do we get started?" he asked excitedly.
"We haven't talked about that yet," Skinner admitted. "Li wanted to meet you
first."
At Krycek's inquiring look, Li added, "I don't tattoo just anyone."
"You've already said that," Krycek muttered, irritated.
Skinner and Li exchanged a knowing look. "Tell you what," Skinner said with a
smile. "I'll go upstairs and take a quick shower and slip into something a
little more...appropriate." He gazed at Krycek who looked so elegant in his
tuxedo, still marvelling at the beautiful sight. "That'll leave you two time to
discuss things. I've found Li to be an extremely wise and insightful man, Alex.
Just hear him out, okay?"
Krycek glared at their visitor again for a long moment before he sighed and
nodded. "I'll put the food in the oven to keep it warm. Don't be long, okay?"
"Okay." Skinner smiled again and bent closer to give his lover another sweet
kiss, totally unperturbed by Li's presence. "I love you," he told Krycek
solemnly and with conviction.
Krycek ducked his head, slightly embarrassed. He loved to hear this sappy stuff
but he still hadn't gotten used to it. "I love you, too, Walter," he replied
softly. "Thank you for everything."
Skinner knew that his lover was thanking him not only for the tattoo, but also
for all his help before, for saving his life, for being there for him, for the
shelter, for giving him love and affection during the tumultous past year. He
smiled at the younger man, caressed the smooth cheek with gentle fingertips, and
then went upstairs, intending to give Li and Krycek more than ample time to
discuss everything...and to call Gino to cancel the reservation.
Krycek took care of their meal and then went back into the living room
reluctantly. Remembering his manners, he offered Li a seat and a drink. The old
man gladly sat down but refused the beverage. Not knowing what else to do,
Krycek sat down in the leather chair opposite the couch, and stared at his guest
for a long moment. "So, you wanted to meet me?" he finally asked when it became
obvious that he was the one who would have to start the conversation.
Li merely nodded, watching the younger man intently with wise eyes.
"Well, I'm Alex," Krycek said in way of greeting. "Now you've met me. Anything
else?"
Li smiled softly. "Walter already warned me you would be a piece of work," he
commented. "I can see why."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Krycek snapped. That old man irritated him like
hell. What had Skinner been thinking anyway, bringing him here? Krycek took a
deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He wanted that tattoo. He wanted it
badly. And if playing nice would do the trick, he would be the most charming
person on this planet. Breaking out in a friendly smile, he said, "Sorry if I
came down on you a little hard. I just expected to spend the evening with
Walter. Alone. That's all."
"I can understand that, Alex," Li nodded. Krycek felt his hackles rising again.
He really didn't like people using his first name without permission. "But you
see, before I get to work on someone I want to make sure that the tattoo is a
good idea."
The look on Krycek's face told him quite clearly what the younger man thought of
that.
"Oh, I see. You think I'm a stupid fool for passing up a good business
opportunity, right?"
"Well, let's be realistic here," Krycek said slowly, feeling the waters. "What's
it to you really? You give someone a tattoo, they are happy, they pay you, you
are happy."
"Ah, but see, I don't consider my tattooing skills as business, Alex. I'm not
doing this to make money. I'm doing this to make people happy. And if I want to
be sure they will be happy about the tattoo the next day, or maybe a year from
now, I need to get to know them a little better first."
Krycek raised a surprised eyebrow. Leave it to Walter to find a weird old dude
like that, he thought chuckling. Still, in a round-about way Li's reasoning made
perfect sense. And the old man's calm and reassuring demeanor soothed Krycek a
little. At least enough to relax some of his tense muscles. "So you're telling
me that you refuse to tattoo someone when you think they don't deserve a
tattoo?" he asked, disbelieving.
"It's not a question of whether they deserve a tattoo or not. If someone thinks
they need a tattoo right away even though I have refused them, they are welcome
to go to another parlor and get a tattoo there," Li explained. "I'm not passing
judgement on anyone. I just refuse to work with people whom I feel will not
benefit from my talents."
The younger man shook his head in disbelief. Who was this guy, anyway? "Isn't
that a bit presumptious? I mean, on what conclusion do you base your decision?"
Li smiled knowingly. "You are a lot like Walter," he commented. "We discussed
this for nearly two hours. He wanted to know everything, every little detail.
Very thorough and tedious, your Walter."
Krycek couldn't help the smile breaking out on his face. His Walter. He liked
the sound of that. And it also sounded a lot like Walter to question every
motive, every possible argument the Chinese man might have. "Well, pardon me for
asking but...who made you the tattoo police?"
To Krycek's complete surprise, Li laughed out loud. It was a clear, youthful
laughter which the younger man found incredibly contagious. He couldn't help but
smile.
"Nobody did, my young friend," Li replied, and Krycek was surprised all over
again when he realized he didn't mind being called 'my young friend' by his
guest. "Basically, I just have one rule. A rule I always, without exception,
follow. I never, ever work on an intoxicated person."
Krycek nodded. That rule made sense.
"In fact, every serious tattooist has that rule though there are enough quacks
who only see the money they can make. But no artist in his right mind tattoos
someone who's drunk or high on other kinds of drugs."
Krycek nodded again. He totally agreed. And he would never trust a tattooist who
would not abide by such a rule.
"However," Li continued, "I think a lot of artists forget the most dangerous
drug of them all." He smiled knowingly when he realized Krycek was hanging on
every word he was saying. "I refuse to tattoo someone who's just fallen madly in
love. Lust is a lethal drug, Alex. People get intoxicated by it."
Krycek gaped at the old man. "You mean, you don't tattoo people who are in
love?" he asked, aghast.
"No, my friend," Li replied calmly. "That's just my point. There's a big
difference between loving someone, and being in love with someone. Most people
who say they love someone are in the lust phase. They've just met the other
person and can't get enough of them. I have a lot of people come to me, asking
me to tattoo them with the name of their chosen one. I always tell them to wait
and come back after six months, or better yet, an entire year. Only then will
they be sure whether it's lust or love. How many people run around with names
tattooed on their biceps from relationships long past?"
Krycek couldn't help himself, he laughed out loud. Li was right. He himself
knew of quite a few guys who had a hard time explaining to their new girl
friends who the hell this Angie was whose name was tattoed on their buttcheeks.
"But you can remove tattoos with laser by now, can't you?" he argued, just for
the heck of it. He liked the old man, and he liked his resolute opinions even
more.
Li chuckled. "Yes, and the technology has advanced greatly in recent years. A
few years ago lasers weren't really that effective. Now they do remove the
tattoo. But it hurts, and it's expensive, and I just want people not to go
through with it in the first place if they're not sure." He shrugged. "When I
find they aren't ready yet I tell them so. I offer to tattoo them at a later
date. If they don't want to wait they can get their tattoo somewhere else.
Nobody's stopping them." He shrugged again.
"So...if you think Walter and I aren't in love you won't tattoo me?" Krycek
asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Li smiled widely. "That's right. But somehow I have the feeling I'm going to
make two men very happy." He laughed out loud when he watched Krycek's face
brighten. "Walter already told me a lot about you two. I really like the fact
that he considers the tattoo he wants to give you as a symbol of your love, not
a mark. He feels very strongly about that. I even asked him if he wanted me to
tattoo the both of you, but he paled rather quickly."
Krycek broke out in a belly laugh. "Yeah, Walter went white as a sheet when I
told him how I pierced my own earlobe when I was fourteen. I thought it would
make me look cool to wear an earring so I just grabbed a hot needle and jammed
it through my earlobe. I know, I know, stupid thing to do. Hurt like hell, too.
But it made me look cool for a while." He grinned broadly, making him look
almost like the fourteen year old he was describing.
The old man smiled as well. "A lot of people don't like marks on their bodies
but enjoy marking others," Li explained. "And I don't necessarily mean
Master/slave relationships." Krycek raised a surprised eyebrow but the Chinese
man drily continued, "What, you think I was born yesterday?" Krycek chuckled.
"I've seen lots of your typical couples, het and gay, where one partner got his
kick out of seeing his tattoo or piercing on the other one. Not in a dominant
way. Just knowing the partner was wearing his mark." Li cocked his head a
little. "I don't think Walter's like that. He seems to want this tattoo badly.
But not for himself. For you. Am I right?"
Krycek nodded solemnly. "Yeah, it would mean a lot to me. I...I have a dangerous
job. I'm not here most of the time. I miss Walter very much. Wearing his
tattoo...it would just make me feel closer to him. As if he'd be with me,
protecting me." He ducked his head, blushing slightly. He really wasn't used to
talking about his feelings this way, and most importantly not with a near-
stranger. "I know it sounds stupid..." he mumbled.
"Not at all," Li interjected forcefully. "It makes perfect sense. And I'll be
honest with you: your kind of relationship, the obvious and very deep bond
between the two of you, that's the perfect partnership in my eyes." He stood up,
smiling softly. "So, have you decided on a motif yet?"
When Skinner came back downstairs, wearing the tux he had found hanging neatly
in the bedroom, courtesy of Krycek, he wasn't entirely sure what to expect.
He most definitely didn't expect to find his lover busily bringing food from the
kitchen into the dining room, his face lit by a happy grin. Skinner took a
furtive look around but couldn't find Li anywhere.
Krycek turned around and saw his lover standing at the bottom of the stairs,
looking devastatingly sexy in his tux. He gave a throaty growl and ran towards
the older man. "Walter, you look good enough to eat!" he enthused. "Thank you so
much for putting the tux on. This is such a special day. It just means so much
to me to celebrate it in style..." He blushed a little again and ducked his head
in embarrassment.
Skinner gently lifted his lover's chin and locked eyes with him. "Anything for
you, Alex," he said softly. Then he moved in and kissed Krycek. Long and deep,
pouring all the love and affection into it, caressing the younger man's body
with his hands, arousing him. When they had to come up for air, Krycek moaned
helplessly, his eyes glazed with passion. Skinner chuckled at that sight. He
felt the same way.
The younger man watched his lover for a moment before he broke into a grin.
"Okay, Walter, spill it. You're just dying to ask the question so go ahead and
knock yourself out."
"Ask what question?" Skinner replied carefully.
"You wanna know where I hid the dead body, dontcha?" Krycek smirked.
The look on Skinner's face was priceless. Even though he tried to act outraged,
the older man couldn't prevent his eyes from quickly roaming the apartment,
trying to find any incriminating evidence—as if a pro like Krycek would leave
any. "Okay, tell me. Where's Li?" he finally asked.
"Went home. Getting his equipment." Krycek bounced up and down excitedly, like a
schoolboy. "He's giving us a couple of hours to ourselves to celebrate our
anniversary. He's coming back around ten to give me my tattoo."
Skinner's eyebrows shot up. "So soon?" he asked, surprised. Not that he minded;
in fact, he was thrilled. When Krycek mentioned Li had left, he had actually—
for just one split second—thought the artist had decided not to tattoo his
lover at all. That would have been devastating not only for Krycek but also for
himself. "He's going to tattoo you? Today? Here?"
"Yes, Walter," Krycek replied as if talking to a slow child. "In about two
hours. Right here in our living room."
The older man smiled when he heard Krycek referring to the living room as
'theirs.' He really liked the sound of that.
"I've already talked with him about the tattoo," Krycek babbled on, too excited
to calm down. "I've had some ideas about what I wanted it to be, but Li made a
suggestion I just couldn't resist. And I know just where I want it to be." He
looked at his lover, suddenly unsure. "Was it okay to make those decisions
alone? Should I have talked to you before? So we could both agree?" Krycek
chewed on his lower lip nervously. "I'm sorry, Walter. I was just so happy, I
didn't think..."
"It's okay, Alex, really," Skinner soothed his lover, taking him in his arms.
"All I wanted was to give you a tattoo. I trust you enough to make your own
decisions regarding its design. I know that whatever you've decided on will be
perfect." He gave the younger man a reassuring kiss on the forehead. "I'll just
let myself be surprised," he added airily. "I'm really looking forward to it.
So, you think I'm gonna like it?"
Krycek blushed again, suddenly shy. "I think you're gonna love it," he mumbled,
looking at his lover through lowered eyelashes. After a few moments of hesitant
silence, he added, "Walter? I have a big favor to ask of you. I want you to take
part in my tattooing." Skinner immediately went pale and started to shake his
head in refusal. Krycek plowed on. "I want you to hold me while Li works on me.
Will that be okay? Please?"
Skinner stared at his lover for a long moment, the mental image Krycek was
describing vivid in his mind. He smiled. "I'd be honored to, Alex," he replied
softly as he led the younger man to the dining table.
During the meal Krycek could hardly sit still. He was full of pent up energy,
constantly babbling, almost giddy with anticipation. Skinner enjoyed seeing his
lover so animated and full of life. Normally he was there to pick up the pieces
after one of Krycek's horrific jobs, and the hours he was lucky enough to spend
with a happy lover were few and far between. But now the younger man's face was
lit up like a kid's at Christmas, his eyes sparkled, a cowlick tickling his
forehead causing him to constantly brush it back with his left hand—Skinner
still marvelled at the left arm even after one year. They should not only
celebrate their anniversary but also Krycek's rebirth and new left arm, the
older man thought.
As the clock crept closer to ten Krycek calmed down considerably, almost
becoming serene. He was obviously looking forward to what would happen in the
next hour or so, and the mere idea of finally wearing Skinner's tattoo on his
body caused him to smile happily, and it did his lover a world of good to see
him so relaxed and at ease. Krycek seemed to be in perfect sync with himself and
his world, something Skinner had never seen before. The older man realized,
without being too surprised, that he loved Krycek more than ever.
They were just loading the dishwasher when Li Chen knocked on the door.
Krycek's smile widened, and he ran out of the kitchen to greet their guest.
Skinner joined them in the living room a few seconds later, watching the Chinese
man unpack a huge black pilot case. "Hello, Li," he greeted the old man. "I'm so
happy you decided to help us."
Li smiled. "With a wonderful man like Alex at your side, who am I to disappoint
you? I thought about you two on my way here, and I have to admit...the two of
you are such a beautiful couple. There isn't anyone more deserving of my service
than you two."
Krycek and Skinner smiled broadly. "Thanks, Li," the younger man said softly.
"That really means a lot to me." Skinner nodded in agreement.
The artist spread out his equipment on the coffee table. "Alex, have you talked
with Walter? Any changes, or do your decisions still stand?" he inquired.
"We've agreed to go ahead with what Alex wants," Skinner answered before Krycek
had the chance to open his mouth. He wanted to make absolutely certain that his
lover knew he stood behind him one hundred percent. Krycek smiled gratefully.
"Okay. Good." Li stood up and looked around. "Well, I'm ready. Alex? Any special
requests?"
Krycek looked at Skinner hopefully, receiving an encouraging nod in return. He
smiled and began matter-of-factly to strip from the waist up. "Walter, would
you please build a fire? I want an intimate atmosphere," he asked softly.
His lover nodded and walked over to their fireplace to fulfill the younger man's
wishes. The living room was almost immediately bathed in the soft light of the
flickering flames. Krycek felt the heat of the fire on his naked back and closed
his eyes in contentment. "Thanks, Walter," he mumbled, sighing happily.
"Li, how much light do you need? Can I turn off the lamps? To make it even more
intimate?" Skinner asked, walking over to the light switch.
Li looked around again, trying to judge the level of illumination coming from
the fireplace. "Well, let's give it a shot," he finally decided. Skinner turned
off the lights, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. Only the area
right in front of the fireplace was lit by a golden glow. Li nodded. "As long as
we work here I'll be fine," he concluded.
Krycek smiled. "Great. I wanted to do this on the couch anyway," he said. "Just
perfect!" He turned to Skinner. "Walter, would you take off your jacket and
shirt as well? You don't have to if you don't want to. I'd just like to feel you
skin to skin while you're holding me."
The big man couldn't resist the hopeful look in those amazingly green eyes. He'd
get completely naked right this minute if Krycek asked that of him, he thought
while he shed his jacket. "So, where do you want me?" Skinner asked, winking
mischievously.
Krycek smirked back. "Upstairs, in bed, hot and ready for me," he replied
huskily, causing Skinner's cock to perk up. "At least later tonight. Right now I
want you to lie down on the couch, holding me tightly." A slight tremble had
crept into Krycek's voice by now; he was getting nervous.
Skinner smiled reassuringly and reclined on the sofa, opening his arms
invitingly. Krycek, swallowing loudly, walked over to his lover and let himself
be wrapped up in a pair of strong arms, lying chest to chest. The younger man
sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, snuggling up to Skinner.
"So, how are we going to do this?" the big man asked Li, not sure how he was
supposed to hold his lover.
Li got into position, disinfecting Krycek's left shoulder blade and then
sketching the design on the soft skin. "Just hold him tight. He's your beloved.
Show him that," he replied calmly.
Skinner could feel Krycek smiling lazily against his right shoulder, dropping a
kiss to the spot right above the puckered nipple. The big man reciprocated with
a kiss to the dark head. "I love you," he whispered into Krycek's hair.
"Love you, too," the younger man mumbled, eyes still closed. "Just hold me
tight, okay?"
Skinner squeezed his lover in reply.
"Okay, I'll start now," Li warned. "Alex, you've decided to wear the tattoo on
your left shoulder. Is that still where you want it?" Krycek nodded. "All right.
You know this is an area with hardly any flesh so it's going to sting mightily."
Krycek nodded his understanding. "You have to keep still, Alex. Remember that,
okay?"
"I've been hurt a lot worse in my time," Krycek mumbled dismissively, snuggling
closer to his lover. "I'll be fine, Li. Walter will hold me."
As if to prove the point, Skinner squeezed his lover fiercely. Krycek smiled,
his eyes still closed. He seemed to be on some faraway plane of peace and
serenity by now.
Pondering how to best arrange his arms, Skinner finally decided to wrap his
right arm around Krycek's waist and cup his head with the other hand, beginning
to card his fingers through the silky hair. His lover mumbled happily when he
felt the strong arms enveloping him.
"Here it comes," Li softly warned before the tattoo needle began to work its
magic.
Krycek didn't flinch once. Skinner hissed a few times when he watched the needle
striking the tender skin of his lover but he held Krycek safely nestled in his
arms. From his vantage point he couldn't see the design Li was creating, and he
could hardly wait to see the end result.
It didn't really take as long as Skinner had expected. After only a few minutes
Li sat back and looked at the tattoo with a critical eye. Then he broke out in a
satisfied smile and winked at Skinner. "I think I did okay," he commented
solemnly.
The big man couldn't wait to see the tattoo but Krycek was heavily lying on his
chest. He gently nudged his lover. "Alex," he said softly. "Hey, come on, Alex.
Don't tell me you fell asleep?" Skinner chuckled a little causing Krycek to
stretch himself languidly, rubbing their naked chests together. The younger man
was awake but quite obviously on an endorphin rush. "Open your beautiful eyes
for me, Alex," the older man whispered into the soft hair of his lover, and
Krycek did as he was told.
Skinner smiled into the sparkling green eyes and bent down to kiss the inviting
red lips. "You okay?" he asked softly, giving Krycek another encouraging
squeeze.
"Oh, I'm doing more than okay," the younger man announced quite happily before
he gently disentangled himself. He sat up between Skinner's sprawled legs and
turned his back towards him. "So, what do you say? Do you like it?" he asked
eagerly, presenting his tattoo.
Skinner looked at the reddened area on his lover's left shoulder. He honestly
had no idea what he had been expecting but it wasn't this. "Does it mean
anything?" he finally asked, his hand hovering close to the tattoo but not
touching it. "Does it stand for something?" He looked from the tattoo to Li,
then at Krycek, who had turned, a slightly nervous look on his face.
"You don't like it," the younger man half-accused, half-asked.
"Oh no, I think it's beautiful," Skinner hastened to assure his lover. "I just
can't read Chinese signs." He smiled at Krycek and then turned to Li. "I suspect
that is a Chinese sign, isn't it?"
Li nodded. "Of course. What else?"
"So, what does it say?"
Krycek threw himself back into Skinner's arms, snuggling up to the broad chest.
"I wanted something that truly connected us," he mumbled dreamily. "But I
couldn't use anything too obvious in case...well, you know. In case something
happened to me." Skinner swallowed convulsively. He didn't even want to think
about someone catching his lover, imprisoning and hurting him. He squeezed the
other man fiercely in reply. "I thought something in Chinese might be the
answer. So I asked Li for suggestions. He came up with this sign," Krycek
explained, nodding his head in the general direction of his left shoulder. "He
drew it for me on a piece of paper and I immediately fell in love with it. Isn't
it beautiful?"
"Yes, it is," Skinner agreed. "It looks elegant yet strong. Just like you." He
dropped a kiss on Krycek's head.
"Softie," Krycek accused, smiling. Then he went on with his explanation. "It's
the Chinese sign for 'warrior.' I thought it was appropriate considering what
I've been doing for the last few years. I think it's a much better word than
'fighter' or 'soldier' or something like that. A warrior is noble and
courageous. Don't you think?" Krycek raised his head to look at his lover.
"Just like you," Skinner replied solemnly, meaning it.
Krycek smiled and rested his head back on the other man's shoulder. "And before
you ask where the connection to you is...did you know that 'Walter' means
'warrior'?" He kissed the shoulder he was nestled on. "I've always thought you
had the perfect name. Walter. My warrior. Now I'm wearing your name on my body."
Krycek smiled lazily, his eyes closed again.
Skinner stared at the dark head nestled trustingly on his chest. He couldn't
believe what he had just heard. Tears of joy were springing to his eyes, and he
had to blink hard to keep them from falling. Then he asked himself why he denied
himself the pleasure, and allowed them to flow down his cheeks unchecked. "I
love you so much, Alex Krycek," he whispered fiercely. "This is the best gift
you could have ever given me. Thank you."
The younger man just chuckled. "Don't sweat it, Walter," he mumbled. "You still
owe me a night of hot sex. I intend to take full advantage of you."
Skinner grinned. "Oh, please do," he replied emphatically. Then he suddenly
remembered they still had a guest, and he turned to Li. "I'm so sorry, Li. Where
are my manners? Thank you so much for the precious gift you've given us."
Li waved a dismissive hand. "It was my pleasure," he reassured Skinner. "And
before you go scrambling for your wallet...this one was on the house. You just
promise me to take good care of Alex here, and we're even."
"I will," Skinner nodded, hugging his lover tightly. "Thank you, Li."
The artist packed his equipment and got up to leave. "I'll find my way out,
Walter," he said to his host, urging him to stay on the couch. The two men made
such a beautiful picture, reclining on the sofa, limbs entangled, bathed in the
golden glow of the fire. "Come and visit me sometime."
Both Skinner and Krycek promised to do so, and waved goodbye to their guest.
Once the door was safely closed behind Li, Skinner turned his attention back to
his lover. "So, do you want to go upstairs to bed?"
"Actually, I'd love to stay here for a little while. Just like this. If that's
okay with you." Krycek looked up hopefully.
"Of course it's okay with me," Skinner replied. He enjoyed the peaceful
atmosphere, the closeness, the bond between them which had deepened even more
through the tattoo. The older man wiggled a little, getting more comfortable on
the couch, and pulled Krycek closer once he got settled.
They merely intended to stay like that for a few minutes, listening to the
crackling fire, the soft jazz still playing in the background, their even
breathing.
But before they knew it, they had both fallen asleep, still half-clad in their
tuxedos, wrapped around each other on a couch too small for one, let alone two
tall men. But neither of them cared at that moment because they were exactly
where they wanted to be: in each other's arms.
When Skinner woke up the next morning, his entire body stiff and full of kinks,
it took him a moment to realize where he had spent the night. Then he realized
the fire had gone out, and his torso and arms were covered in goosebumps. And
only then did something else register.
He was alone again.
alter Skinner awoke the same way he had ever since Nam: one moment he was sound
asleep, the next he was alert of his surroundings.
