Mulder snapped awake. It was his phone, 2.30am, for God's sake. No
peace for the paranoid.
"Mulder." He sounded like someone in the last stages of a terminal
disease. He cleared his throat and was about to try again when his caller
interrupted him.
"I'm in the service elevator on the ground floor of the Ambassador hotel.
Meet me here as soon as you can. And bring a change of clothes."
The phone went dead but he kept talking to it stupidly as it if might
provide him with some conversation. "Hello? Krycek? What the hell is
going on with you?"
There was no surprise in being woken by someone at an ungodly hour with a
request to meet, it often happened, he knew he'd miss it if it ever
stopped. But this wasn't Krycek's usual style and, thinking back over the
past few years, a secret assignation with anyone in an elevator was an
interesting first, with Krycek it was positively intriguing.
Was the change of clothes supposed to be for him or for Krycek? And what
did he have in mind—casual or tuxedo? Maybe Alex had received a sudden
invitation to the Ambassador Hotel Staff's Annual Service Elevator Ball.
Did Krycek have some information for him, was he in trouble or was this a
joke? Was he waiting for Mulder with a mudpie that he was going to throw
in his face and the change of clothes had been a considerate afterthought?
The possibilities were endless. Mulder decided to ignore the request for
clothes and just get there as soon as he could. Even if Krycek were soaked
to the skin, Mulder lived near enough to the hotel to get him back to his
apartment to change within twenty minutes.
And why did Krycek want to meet in a service elevator, for God's sake,
when he could be in the men's room, drying off or wiping himself down or
whatever he needed to be doing to himself? This was what Frohike would
call extreme weirdness.
He hurried downstairs to his car.
Driving to the hotel, it struck Mulder how little he knew Alex Krycek.
For example, he had no idea whether the man was even capable of playing a
practical joke. And if he had to make a guess at the casual clothes Krycek
would wear at home, he'd have a hard time. Alex seemed to have been born
in a dark suit, white shirt and awful tie.
Thankfully Mulder had been able to take the dazzling, migraine-inducing
shine off Krycek's initial eager beaver boy scout approach. He'd been able
to ruffle up his attitude if not his hair. Mulder would have given a lot
to ruffle his hair as well but Krycek appeared to be too interested in
women for that wish to be indulged. Mulder had worn down some inflexible
edges, induced some relaxation here and there, molding Krycek into the
kind of partner he could work with. Only the other day Krycek had
demonstrated how much he'd changed by making a rude joke about Skinner
although he had checked over his shoulder first.
Was this 2.30am call a sign that Mulder had taken Krycek too far down the
primrose path of dalliance? Had he encouraged the young man into a
cavalier eccentricity that had him making early calls to meet in bizarre
places?
The drive to the hotel took only 15 minutes, aided by the fact that Mulder
jumped every red light. The desk clerk looked puzzled when Mulder asked
directions to the service elevators but a flash of the FBI badge and the
words "Routine security check" seemed to satisfy him. Making his way down
the endless identical corridors, Mulder finally found himself in the
kitchens. The whole area seemed to be deserted which was lucky—with an
already shaky reputation, he couldn't afford to be seen talking to strange
elevators.
As he switched on the lights, he was almost blinded by the reflections
from shiny surfaces, the walls, ceilings, worktops and florros dazzling in
their cleanliness. Major surgery could probably be performed here without
risk of infection. Mulder walked through the first kitchen to the service
elevator. He opened the doors and checked inside.
"Krycek?"
Empty, apart from a steel trolley. He tried the service elevator in the
second kitchen and found the doors wouldn't respond. He pushed the button
again.
"Who is it?" called a small nervous voice from inside.
"Krycek?"
"Mulder, Thank God."
He sounded so pleased that Mulder's heart almost skipped a beat. Steady,
he told himself, nowhere is it written that the way to a man's heart is to
rescue him from a service elevator.
"Are you stuck in there, Krycek?"
The elevator doors sighed open to a gap of six inches and an arm came out,
waving around futilely. Mulder couldn't help noticing it was naked and so
too was the shoulder it was joined to.
"Pass me the clothes, quick."
Mulder had the impression of a shy bride on her wedding night, unwilling
to let her husband see her without her nightie. "Krycek, I don't have any
for you. I figured I could take you back to my apartment for a change of
clothes."
"What?" Mulder detected a tinge of hysteria. "There's nothing for me to
change. I'm naked, for Christ's sake."
Mulder repressed the urge to roar with laughter. "Naked" Why?"
"Why are people usually naked?" Krycek sounded angry now and Mulder felt
his role as hero of the hour sadly slipping away.
"I don't know. To go swimming, to have a bath, make love. Am I getting
warm?"
Krycek must have released his hold on the doors for they suddenly opened
wide and he was standing in the corner of the elevator, gesturing angrily.
"Will you stop shouting and come in here! Someone might hear us!"
The elevator was only big enough to hold a trolley and two or three
people. As he stepped into it, face to face with his naked partner, the
doors closing behind him, Mulder felt as if it was his birthday,
Thanksgiving and the 4th of July all on the same night. He tried hard to
keep his eyes off Krycek's body but had to allow himself one hasty
surveillance. It was as beautiful as he had fantasized—lean and strong,
with the prettiest cock he'd ever seen. There wasn't a lot of hair but the
smooth chest and stomach showed excellent muscle definition. All of a
sudden, the lift was hot and airless: if Mulder had been wearing a tie he
would have loosened it. He wondered for a wild moment whether he should
strip off to make Krycek feel more at ease.
"I'm hiding in here because someone is trying to find me," Krycek
whispered with exaggerated emphasis on his words as if he was the subject
of a documentary and he wanted the camera to catch every word. "And when
they find me they are going to kill me."
"Why?" Why did he keep asking why? Still, each time he'd used it so far
ir seemed a reasonable enough question for someone who had been yanked out
of sleep at 2.30 in the morning.
"Because I've been in a hotel room upstairs making love to his husband —"
Krycek shook his head—" I mean her wife—I mean..." He trailed off,
leaving them both thoroughly confused.
"My God, Krycek, with a decent film script, you could probably live off the
proceeds of that story for years to come." Mulder ran the back of his hand
over his forehead, growing hotter by the minute. The realization had just
dawned that Krycek's groin and stomach were shiny, not from sweat, as Mulder
first supposed, but from sperm. Lots of it. Krycek had been with a man.
Mulder could smell it clearly now in the enclosed space of the elevator.
It was like an injection of pure aphrodisia. He was tempted to go into the
routine of—my boy, I take you under my wing, I teach you what I know.
You look so sweet and innocent and all the time you fuck with men. How
could you do this to me and not give me a piece of the action?
Krycek looked as if he might try climbing the steel walls of the elevator.
He was pacing up and down as much as a man could pace up and down in such
an enclosed space. A beautiful trapped animal. "I didn't know she was
married" he finally said.
"Oh come on, Krycek. You mean you didn't know he was married."
Alex stopped pacing and glared at him, the flash from those fawn-like eyes
yet another revelation.
Mulder shrugged. "As they say, it takes one to know one." The fact that
Krycek had fooled him so cleverly all this time didn't count. It was
important at this moment for Mulder to take on the hey been there done
that' role. "So the wife discovered you both and you had to run, leaving
your clothes behind in the room."
Krycek nodded. He seemed grateful that Mulder's attitude was so matter
of fact. There was something else thought—a look of new respect, a fresh
appraisal.
"Were you carrying your ID?"
No, of course not. Not for a one-nighter"
A one-nighter! "So what clothes have you left behind? Anything about
them that could identity you?"
Krycek was a little calmer now that they were discussing practicalities.
"No, just a pair of jeans, t-shirt and an old leather jacket."
Leather jacket, did he say leather jacket? Leather jacket and
one-nighters. Mulder's eyes lost their focus. His brain began to run a
Tom of Finland scenario, with Krycek tied to a tree, naked except for a
leather jacket, two enormous men taking turns on him.
"Mulder? Are you Okay?"
"I'm fine. Just thinking"
"Well, that's what you're good at, Mulder."
Was there a smidgeon of a challenge in that remark, as if to say I know
you think about it a lot but do you ever do anything about it? Okay
Krycek, challenge accepted, now it's my move.
I suppose you're anxious to keep this from your boyfriend?"
Krycek frowned impatiently, "What boyfriend?"
"Your regular boyfriend."
"Don't have one. Can't find one that will tolerate FBI hours."
Poor excuse, Krycek. Can't accept that. However, I am willing to accept
the fact that you wear out lovers fast, you like hot wild sex with maybe a
smattering or two of perversion and they can't keep up with you for long.
Well, you're luck's in tonight, you called the right guy because I love it
hot and I'm a pervert and I happen to have a free decade or so ahead of me.
"Okay, here's what we do,"
Krycek's eyes brightened visibly, "I knew if anyone could get me out of
this Mulder, it would be you."
What a sunny little personality he has at times. I'll have to knock that
out of him too. "There should be no problem finding you some clothes. The
kitchen staff must have lockers round here somewhere."
Krycek nodded enthusiastically, "So far so good."
"If you give me a description of the wife, I'll take a look around while
you're getting dressed and check she's not waiting for you out back with a
sawn off shotgun. Then we slip you into my car and off we go."
"Good plan, Mulder."
"There's just one thing." Sweat began breaking out on his upper lip.
"Which is?" Krycek was looking at him with a knowing expression and
Mulder had the feeling that he had already anticipated what he was going to
say.
"I'd like a warm thank you"
Krycek smiled, a truly wicked smile that grabbed Mulder's crotch and
squeezed it. "Wondering when you'd get round to that. I like your
initiative, Mulder. Just enough hint of blackmail to make it spicy."
Add mind games to hot wild sex. Mulder was glad it was already Saturday.
He may need to stage some sort of recovery.
As Krycek sauntered towards him, Mulder found it hard to breathe. The
young man was already erect and ready to go, moving easily and seductively
towards him as if being propositioned in s service lift was a regular
occurrence for him. But what was this? As Krycek melted into his arms,
Mulder could feel the young man's heart beating haphazardly, belying his
apparent nonchalance, hinting at some kind of emotional investment in the
situation. Was it possible that he might want this as much as Mulder?
He buried his face in Krycek's neck, breathing in the wonderful scent of
him, kissing the silky skin, moving along to the earlobe, giving little
biting kisses. Krycek gave a gentle moan.
Then he sighed, "Mulder."
Mulder hadn't realized what a fabulous name he had, at least it was
fabulous the way Krycek spoke it, so husky and deep and hungry. It
loosened his tongue. "I've wanted to do this for such a long time," he
murmured into Alex's hair.
Krycek's hands were exploring his back, running over his muscles, maybe he
was assessing his stamina like a jockey before a race. He gave no reply
but took Mulder's head in both hands and kissed him deeply and thoroughly,
seemingly intent on nothing else but giving pleasure. It was the kind of
kiss that came straight out of a romantic novel. "She knew as soon as Dr
Bradshaw kissed her that this was the man she'd been waiting for all her
life.' As far as Mulder knew he hadn't been waiting for Krycek but he
could never be the same again. That was it. He was hooked.
He realized that Krycek was on his knees, lifting his t-shirt with one
hand, lewdly squeezing his nipples, and undoing his zip with the other. He
seemed awfully busy, had the kiss affected him in the same way or were
kissed like that second nature to him? Mulder wondered in an unfocused
sort of way how the husband upstairs must be feeling, had he been hooked
too? As body and mind responded to Krycek's caresses and Mulder lost focus
completely, for some reason an image occurred to him of a bee drowning in
honey, powerless to sting.
His senses telescoped dramatically to the tip of his penis where Krycek
was licking him avidly like a hungry boy with a lollipop, apparently
savouring the taste of his prejaculate. It was hard to hold on to the fact
that this was the same Krycek who checked over his shoulder before telling
a rude joke, who said things like "We can't do that, Skinner told us not
to." Mulder grabbed handfuls of the young man's hair and gave out a loud
groan which reverberated off the steel walls of the lift like a squash
ball. Encouraged warm wet lips drew him in and Krycek's eager tongue
worked at his length, alternating with a suction that took the strength
from Mulder's knees and made him sag against the elevator wall in sheer
pleasure.
Then Krycek drew away for a moment, his lips swollen and glistening,
staring up at him through those incredible lashes. "Mmmm, this is
delicious, Mulder, I'm really going to enjoy this."
He was going to enjoy it! "Christ." Mulder groaned and pulled again on
Krycek's hair, drawing that skilled mouth back onto his erection. He
watched in fascination as Krycek resumed work with his tongue, looping it
around him, licking and applying that suction again. It had been some time
since anyone had done this for him and Mulder knew he couldn't handle such
expertise for much longer. He was already breathing in ragged gasps. The
thought struck him that he was in the service elevator of one of
Washington's finest hotels, indulging in oral sex with a fellow FBI agent
but instead of cooling him off, the idea only added fuel to his passion.
He felt Krycek relaxing the back of his throat, allowing him to drive
further inside his mouth and at the same time grabbing Mulder's buttocks
and pulling him nearer, giving little moans of desire that vibrated along
his shaft.
"Oh my God!" Mulder's whole body shuddered as he thrust harder and harder
into the hot silky warmth of Krycek's mouth. Then Krycek swallowed, the
back of his throat bearing down on him, and Mulder was lost, his orgasm
taking a sudden and violent hold on him. He cried out with the intensity of
it, bucking frantically down the young man's throat, pumping out so much
sperm that even though Krycek was valiantly trying to swallow it all, a lot
of it spilled from the corners of his mouth, dripping down his cheeks. The
sight only added more resonance to Mulder's orgasm. He felt as if he was
coming into Krycek's mouth for a full five minutes. Alex resolutely hung
on, sucking and swallowing feverishly.
When at last he'd finished, Mulder's knees gave up completely and he sank
slowly to the lift floor. Krycek collapsed with him, half choking, half
giggling, wiping his mouth with his fingers and sucking them.
"Let me help with that," Mulder murmured, holding out his arms to him.
"Come here."
Krycek stopped giggling. He moved over to Mulder, sitting astride his
legs, and let him lick the sperm off his face like a kitten being washed by
its mother. He looked as if he would have purred if he knew how..
They kissed, a complex exchange of body fluids, wet sensuous kisses
orchestrated excitingly by twitching and promptings from Krycek's swollen
erection which danced between their bodies, begging for attention. He
writhed longingly over Mulder's legs. Such a blatant show of need could
hardly fail to have its effect on Mulder and he was recovering fast,
growing hard again, aided by the hungry kisses that Krycek was giving his
chest and nipples. The young man was certainly not mean with his favours
or his thank yous.
"Stay like that. " Alex whispered huskily.
Sitting with his back against the elevator wall and his long legs
stretched out almost touching the other side, Mulder wondered what Krycek
could have in mind, until he saw him turn his back to him, put his feet
either side of Mulder's legs and make as if to sit back down in his lap.
"Good God" Mulder said,"are you going to sit down on it?"
Krycek hesitated, looking at him over his shoulder. "well, yeah, if that's
okay with you."
"Oh God oh God oh God," Mulder said helplessly, his erection becoming rock
hard in response. He somehow couldn't form the words but he wanted to
tell Krycek that he'd always wanted someone to do that—maybe not in a
service elevator, but what the hell—and no-one had ever had. Was this
man a figment of his erotic imagination?
"I take it that was yes" Balancing his weight between his hands and feet,
Krycek lowered himself over Mulder and down onto his swollen penis. Mulder
held his erection in position as Krycek eased himself down, gently, an inch
at a time, gasping loudly as his body accommodated Mulder's size. It
couldn't have been so very long since he had accommodated the husband, he
was still stretched and lubricated. Mulder began to moan with the sheer
delight of the sensation and the sight of Krycek's muscular buttocks eating
up his length.
Mulder held onto Krycek's waist, supporting and embracing him. Alex threw
back his head back with an animal groan, abandoning himself to Mulder,
holding onto his thighs for support as he rode up and down on his erection.
With each downward thrust, Krycek stayed for a moment gripping Mulder with
inner muscles that felt like a hot fist and then he rose up again, twisting
sensuously in his pleasure and hunger. Mulder held him as tightly as he
could, planting wild kisses all over his back, moaning continuously now,
heading fast towards orgasm. Krycek was groaning hard, shuddering in
Mulder's grip. He took his right hand from Mulder's thigh and grabbed his
erection which had been helplessly thrusting into the air. He pumped the
shaft eagerly with long firm strokes that he timed expertly in concert with
his thrust down onto Mulder pushing himself quickly into a sensory overload
that had him screaming. The force of it sent streams of sperm across the
elevator, dripping down the opposite wall. Each throb of Krycek's orgasm
caused a complimentary contraction of his inner muscles and Mulder came
hard with him, feeling as though some powerful fist was squeezing him until
he was utterly dry.
The sheer force of feeling seemed to take them both by surprise. They
keeled over, lying on their sides, panting like exhausted athletes. Mulder
reached out and drew Krycek into his arms, holding him tightly against him.
He wondered if he'd get the chance to grow intimately accustomed to him.
In case he didn't, Mulder took the opportunity to fix in his mind exactly
how Krycek smelt and tasted and felt like under his touch so that he could
live on the memory, in the same way that a camel is supposed to live off
its hump on a long journey.
Alex woke to the unaccustomed sound of someone snoring. He rarely slept
with lovers, preferring to go back to his own place. It was a safety
precaution, it avoided waking in the morning with a knife in the back or a
gun to the head. Not that he was paranoid, of course. Not like Mulder.
He was just being careful. It seemed to work.—after all, he was still
alive.
But it was good sleeping with Mulder He was a cuddler and if Alex turned
over and moved away from him in his sleep, Mulder would automatically reach
out for him, pulling back into the warmth of his body. Alex felt a
childlike sense of security with him, protected from the vagaries of the
outside world. He'd slept soundly, deeply contented.
The plan had gone well, far better that he'd had any right to expect.
Mulder had found him some clothes and they'd left the Ambassador Hotel by
about 4am, with no trouble at all. Well, it was highly unlikely that
there would have been any trouble, considering the jealous wife and the
misbehaving husband had been inventions of his creative imagination. In
fact, the whole thing had only occurred to him that night about half an
hour before he'd phoned Mulder.
Earlier on, he'd picked up one of the chefs working at the Ambassador and
they'd gone to one of the empty rooms in the hotel. Alex had been
considering going home to sleep and then he found himself thinking, as he
often did, about Mulder and how much he needed him and the idea had begun
to take shape.
It had been easy to persuade the chef that he wanted to play a trick on an
old friend. The man had let him use the phone, showed him where the
service elevator was and had agreed to keep his clothes for him until he
collected them.
Easy.
Although he'd had to lie to get Mulder there, Alex was sure even he would
have agreed that the end justified the means. The torrid sex in the
elevator had damn well nearly blown Alex's mind, he'd almost ejaculated his
brains out. For some reason that he didn't feel inclined to examine too
deeply, Alex had always cherished the fantasy of having sex in an elevator
and Mulder had responded to him even more enthusiastically than he'd hoped.
And now here he was sleeping with the man, having made plans with him for
the weekend.
It was all the fault of the Cigarette Smoking bastard that this hadn't
happened before and happened naturally. When he'd given Alex this
assignment, he'd made out that Mulder was a dangerous psychopath and a
fabricator of lies. Meeting him, realising how attracted they were to each
other, Alex had been forced to go into major heterosexual mode to protect
himself, inventing a variety of girlfriends. Months later, he'd discovered
for himself that Mulder was a little psychopathic—who cares, he liked
that in a man, but not a liar, that his paranoia was partly justified, and
that he appeared to be on to something. However, it was too late then to
turn up at work wearing a Glad to Be Gay badge.
Alex flipped over onto his back and studied Mulder's sleeping face. His
mouth was slightly open, relaxed and inviting. In the gentle morning
light, he looked intensely beautiful. Alex reached over and put his arm
around his waist.
He wondered that the Cigarette Smoking Man would make of this if he ever
found out. He hinted at an interesting future for Alex, even suggesting
that the could use his Russian parentage to infiltrate him into the KGB. A
double agent. Or was that double, double agent, seeing that Alex had
already been infiltrated into the FBI? But Mulder had quickly taught him
that nothing was as it may seem and Alex felt more inclined now to trust
Mulder rather than the Cigarette Smoking Man. His position had not only
completely reversed but it had become alarmingly unstable.
It was too complicated to think about on a sleepy Saturday morning with
such a beautiful lover by his side. He'd figure a way out, he was good at
figuring ways out.
Meanwhile he needed to wake those sleeping lips.
The end?
Elevating Experiences
by Jane Symons
He lay on the sofa in jeans and t-shirt, asleep and dreaming of a blue
ocean that was always too far out of his reach. Suddenly a large black
liner appeared on the horizon, making a strange ringing sound.
