Morning Variations III:
Screaming. Someone was screaming. I fought my way out of a deep sleep and rolled out of bed. A red glow illuminated the darkened bedroom as I crossed to the window. I looked out and... Oh shit.
The house across from me was on fire. I could see a woman I vaguely recognized as the homeowner running at the front door, as if she wanted to get back inside. The flames beat her back and she wailed again.
I pulled on a pair of jeans and my boots and rushed out the door, slipping a sweatshirt over my head as I moved. I crossed the street, and a woman ran to me babbling incoherently. I grabbed her and tried my best to understand what she was so desperately trying to tell me. She pointed at an upstairs window and I turned to look.
Oh, jesus. The kid was still inside. He was pounding at the window, mouth open in a silent scream.
More neighbors swarmed out around us, and I turned to an elderly man I'd spoken with on a casual basis from time to time. "Has anyone called this in?" I asked him.
"I called the fire department a minute ago," he informed me.
"How long will it take them to get here?"
He shrugged. "This ain't their favorite part of town, you know? Last fire it took 'em nearly fifteen minutes to respond." He looked past me at the upstairs window, and his eyes widened. "Oh god," he groaned in horror. "The boy!" Pointing with a shaking finger, he glanced at me hopelessly. "We have to do something."
I swallowed heavily and scanned the gathering crowd. All of the men present were either very young or very old. Damn, I hated fire. But, I couldn't just stand there hoping that rescue would somehow arrive in time. I shoved the woman at the old man and ran toward the burning building. Flames engulfed the front room, climbing hungrily up from the windows to reach for the second story. I went around to the back looking for a way in and found the kitchen door standing open. Smoke swirled, but no flames were yet in evidence. I went inside and stopped at the sink long enough to wet a couple of dishtowels; placing one over my mouth and nose, I headed up the stairs.
The hallway was hot and the smoke so heavy that I had to move forward by feel alone because my eyes were tearing, effectively blinding me. Once I'd located the door behind which I thought the boy would be, I grabbed the handle then pulled my hand back, cursing. Fuck! It was so hot that I'd burned my hand badly. I used the wet towel and tried again. Yes... I was in. Now, where was the boy?
"Kid?" I croaked. "You in here?"
"Mommy," a small voice whimpered.
I dropped to the floor and moved toward that voice. "Talk to me, kid. I can't see."
"Mommy," he cried. "Want my Mommy."
I slithered across the floor following his pathetic noises, and when I reached him, he threw himself at me, wrapping both arms and legs around me. Stumbling awkwardly to my feet, I went to the window and tried to raise it. No go. The fucking thing was nailed shut. I turned my back and slammed my elbow through the damn thing, wincing at the tearing sensation as ragged shards of glass caught my upper arm. Instead of cool air, flames rushed in at me and I fell back.
Beginning to think that I just might die tonight, I turned and headed back to the hallway. The fire had reached the second floor and was coming at me at a terrifying speed. Knowing I had only seconds to save the kid - and myself - I raised the hand that had been supporting him and held the wet towel to my face.
"Hold on, kid." I yelled at him as I rushed down the hall. The stairway was filled with smoke, but it looked as if the fire had not yet reached it. I stumbled and slid down the steps, rushing through the kitchen to burst out of the back door. Twisting so that I didn't land on the kid, I fell hard and lay stunned for a moment. Gathering my strength, I rose and made my way around to the front of the house, the kid still holding on with surprising tenacity. I heard the mother wail again. Suddenly people surrounded me, and someone took the kid.
I still couldn't see anything and wiped at my streaming eyes with the towel, blinking repeatedly. A hand landed on my arm, pulling at me. "Come on," a voice said. "Fire's getting worse... we have to move back."
I frowned as I blindly followed. I knew that voice. Who the hell? Once away from the house, the fresh air hit my lungs and I started coughing convulsively. The owner of the voice put an arm around me and practically lifted me, hauling me over to set me down on the curb. Still coughing and wheezing, I bent over my knees struggling for breath.
A warm hand settled on my back, rubbing soothing patterns, trying to ease the spasming of my lungs. "Easy... relax and try to breathe through your nose."
Damn. Who the fuck belonged to that voice? I knew I'd heard it before. Not in connection with my neighborhood, though. Raising my head, I blinked again and squinted in the direction of the voice, determined to identify it.
A hiss informed me that I was a surprise to this person. Uh oh. This might be bad... very, very bad. I'd run to ground here almost a month ago, needing to hide and recoup. Figuring that no one would look for me in the ghetto, I'd thought myself safe. And now, it appeared I'd blown it.
"You!" The voice was low and dangerous. "What the hell are you doing here, boy?"
Boy?! Son of a bitch. I was well and truly fucked this time. Of all the damned people... It would just have to be him. I stiffened and pulled back. A strong hand closed around the arm I'd cut on the window and I gasped.
"Fuck! Let go of me, you bastard," I said in a pained voice, forcing the words past my constricted throat. "Jesus christ, Skinner, let go of my fucking arm already."
He opened his hand and cursed with surprise. "How the hell did you do that?"
"Window," I managed to grit out through clenched teeth. The sound of approaching sirens filled the air and I automatically tried to rise. He grabbed my forearm and pulled me back down.
"Where do you think you're going?" He growled at me.
"Dammit, Skinner... you know as well as I what will happen if I'm taken to a hospital." I slumped down. Wouldn't you just know it? The irony of it... I shook my head. Escape the fire, save the kid only to have my past rise up and bite me on the ass. I shrugged and rested my head on my knees.
I hate irony.
Someone sat on my other side and I instinctively flinched away when something touched my face.
"Man," said a small voice. "Mommy, man hurt."
After some gyrations, he wriggled free of his mother's hold and leaned against me. He patted my cheek with one hand. "Amalamce come, man. You okay."
I looked up at him blearily and tried to smile. He put his arms around my neck and hugged me.
This was a new one. I didn't do kids. To be honest, they scare me. They're so little and fragile. And they smell funny.
Skinner was scary... but, he wasn't little or fragile and he didn't smell like a kid. I leaned against him, not sure how to unattach the kid and hoping he'd chase it away for its own safety or something.
Then the mother started to cry and put an arm around my back burying her face against the kid. "You saved my baby. My baby." She wailed.
Oh gods, this just kept getting worse and worse. Fire... kids... crying women. And, now the kid was crying on me, apparently set off by his mother's tears. He tightened his arms and rested his full weight against me, his tears rolling off of his face and down my neck.
Skinner was suddenly the very least of my problems. I shifted towards him again. Surely, he could get them off of me. "Skinner," I pleaded huskily, "do something."
Under any other circumstances, I'd have most likely laughed at the sheer helplessness Krycek evinced in the face of this kid. At that particular moment however, it just didn't quite seem the thing to do. I gently disengaged the kid's hold on Krycek and turned the boy into his mother's waiting arms.
"Thanks," he whispered huskily. Then he started coughing. He hunched over his knees gasping desperately for air. I supported him when it began to look as if he might pitch forward onto his face. Slumped heavily against me, Krycek breathed shallowly with intense concentration on the task.
The rumbling of the firetrucks vibrated through the roadway, and Krycek raised his head, squinting in the direction of the flashing lights. I could hear a voice bellowing over the confusion, asking if anyone was hurt. Rising to my feet, I kept one hand on the back of his neck to hold him in place. I'd learned through years of hard-won experience to never, ever to underestimate the capabilities of this particular rat.
"Over here," I yelled, waving my arm in the air. "He needs oxygen."
A paramedic headed our way and immediately settled an O2 mask over his mouth and nose. Still standing behind Krycek, I watched as the medic reached for his sweatshirt. Krycek immediately tensed and tried to back away from the man, wrapping his arm around his middle as he leaned against my legs.
"Let him look at your arm," I said in his ear once I'd knelt down.
He shook his head and moaned. His arm closed protectively over the stump of his left arm and he shuffled back again. I sighed and put one arm around his shoulders, bracing him.
"Hush now," I said in a low voice. "I'll do it." Carefully moving his hand down, I pulled at his sweatshirt. He made a noise of protest and I leaned closer to him. "I'll just pull it off of your injured arm, okay?"
"Here," the paramedic waved a pair of scissors, "I'll just cut it off."
Krycek breathed in sharply and shifted even closer. Dammit - I had not planned on ending up with Alex Krycek in my lap when I'd taken this so-called short cut home tonight.
I shot the medic a quelling look. "No," I said sharply. "I've got it." I pushed his shirt up and carefully worked his right arm free of the garment, leaving his disfigurement covered.
The medic was careful in his examination; wiping blood out of the way he frowned and looked up at me. "This'll need stitches," he said. "I'll bandage it, and we'll transport him in a minute."
Krycek panicked. He pulled away from the paramedic and ran once again into me, jerked forward. I strengthened my hold across his chest, holding him steady as he moaned and struggled.
"Hold still," I told him. "Let the man bandage your arm now."
"No," he gasped, pulling the oxygen mask off of his face. "Gotta go... can't let him find me."
I sighed and put my other arm around him. "It's all right," I said into his ear. "I'll help you. Just hold still long enough to get this bandaged."
"Uh, sir," the paramedic protested, "this man needs medical attention."
Jesus H. Christ. Walt, what the hell are you doing? I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Bureau ID. "I'm Walter Skinner, FBI." I held up my badge. "This man works for me. I'll take responsibility for him. Just get his arm bandaged and I'll get him to the ER."
I drew in a deep breath and fixed him with one of my best don't-you-give-me-any-shit glares. "I said, I'll take care of him."
Huh. The AD voice seemed to work as well on firemen as it did on recalcitrant agents. "Yes, sir," the paramedic mumbled.
Krycek shook his head slightly and said something under his breath.
"What?" I asked him.
"I get it," he said as he relaxed against me. "I'm dreaming." He nodded to himself and sat quietly as his damned arm was bandaged.
Once the medic had finished, I rose and pulled Krycek up beside me. "Come on," I instructed. "My car's right over there."
A police officer walked towards us. "Excuse me, sir. We'll need a statement from this man."
I didn't even pause, just kept walking forward, pulling Krycek along with me. "I'm taking him to the hospital. You can talk to him there."
"Now, sir," the cop planted himself in front of me, unwilling to let me escape with his witness. "The ambulance-"
I stopped and glared at him. Oh, hell. I briefly debated my action, then shrugged and reached once again for my ID. "AD Walter Skinner, FBI. This man is one of my agents, he's working an undercover case and cannot be identified at this time. I will take care of him, officer."
"I still need a statement, sir."
I stiffened and glared at the officer. "Fine. This is Special Agent Mulder," I could feel Krycek's immediate reaction to that one. "You can reach him at the Hoover on Monday," I told the cop shortly. "Now, if you'll please excuse us."
Ol' Bulldog might be persistent but he wasn't stupid. He got the hell out of my way.
Still unsteady on his feet, Krycek stumbled, and I put one arm around him. I hauled him to the car and dumped him into the passenger seat. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, while I went around and climbed in behind the wheel. I started the car and pulled away from the curb.
"Where are you taking me?"
Damn good question. Where was I taking him? Where could I take him? I shrugged and glanced over at him. "My place," I finally answered him.
He looked at me for a moment then sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the seat. We accomplished the rest of the trip in silence.
He was so quiet, I thought he'd either passed out or fallen asleep. I parked the car and got out. When I opened his door, he was awake, looking up at me. He sighed and climbed awkwardly to his feet. He came along, unprotesting, to the elevator and leaned against the back wall. When we reached my floor, he walked down to my door and waited for me to get my key out.
I led the way in and shrugged out of my coat and suit jacket. "Come on," I said to him.
He looked at me as if I had spoken in Swahili.
Frowning in confusion, he remained still.
I sighed and reached for his shoulder. Pushing him ahead of me to the steps, I marched him up to the bathroom. Once I had him seated on the toilet, I reached for his sweatshirt, and he shied back.
"Krycek, I have to clean up that arm."
He subsided and allowed me to take the filthy shirt off. I tossed it on the floor and removed the bandage the paramedic had applied. I leaned closer to examine the cuts and wrinkled my nose.
"You stink," I said.
He shrugged and reached for his stump. When he closed his hand around it, he gasped and jerked his hand away. I frowned and looked at the mangled limb. Couldn't see anything but old scars, though. Closing my fingers around his wrist, I turned his hand palm up and sucked in air when I saw the burns there.
I stood and opened the medicine cabinet, rummaging for supplies. I lined up what I'd need on the sink then turned to the shower. Once I'd adjusted the temperature I turned to Krycek, reached under his arms and lifted him to his feet.
"What now?" He asked tiredly.
"Shower," I told him as I unsnapped his jeans. "Then bandages. Then medicine. Then bed."
He nodded and stood quietly as I knelt and removed his boots. I pushed his jeans down and supported him as he stepped out of them. I got him into the shower and started to back away, but he was just standing under the water, unmoving. Realizing that he couldn't do a hell of a lot with that burn on his hand, I sighed and ran a hand across my face.
What the hell had I gotten myself into here? I undressed to my shorts, and got in behind him. Soaping up a cloth, I gave him a cursory wash and turned him under the water, rinsing him off. Reaching around him, I grabbed the shampoo and washed his hair.
He sighed and leaned into the touch.
Uh oh. Steadfastly ignoring my immediate reaction to his vulnerability, I rinsed his hair and hauled him back out of the shower. I dried him, then wrapped the towel around his waist and lowered him to sit on the toilet. Grabbing a second towel, I ran it over my chest, then used it to dry his hair.
Again, he sighed and leaned toward me. I tossed the towel aside and pushed him upright, turning my attention to his injuries. Burn ointment on the hand and a loose gauze bandage. Good. Now, the arm. I opened a bottle of sterile wash and directed a stream over and into the gashes.
"Fuck!" Krycek opened his eyes and jerked away.
"Hold still," I grabbed his shoulder. "I have to clean this up before I bandage it."
"Jesus, Skinner. Just put me on the balcony so I can wake up, already."
I frowned. "Did you hit your head, Krycek?" I lifted my hands to his head, feeling carefully for any lumps or cuts but found nothing.
"Stop calling me that," he mumbled.
"Stop calling you what?"
"Krycek." He spat the name out. "Not Krycek. Not my name... I hate that name."
"Okay," I soothed. The guy must be in shock. "What should I call you?"
"All right, Alexei," I said agreeably as I reached for the antiseptic spray. "Hold still now." I shook the can and quickly sprayed his arm.
He hissed but held steady.
"Stay here while that dries," I told him. He nodded, and I went into my bedroom. I collected a pair of pajamas for him and headed back. He was still sitting there, much to my surprise. I'd really expected to find him trying to get away.
It had to be either shock or a head injury. Maybe both.
Opening a strip of butterfly bandages, I applied them to the worst of the cuts and then wrapped gauze around the whole mess. Shaking pills out of the containers I'd pulled out of the cabinet, I filled a glass with water and held the pills up.
"Open up and take these," I said.
He frowned suspiciously at the pills and looked at me. "What are they?"
"Antibiotics and painkillers."
He closed his eyes and turned his head away.
"Alexei, take the pills."
Sighing, he turned back and opened his mouth. I put the pills on his tongue and held up the water for him. Once the pills were down, I picked up the pajamas and knelt in front of him. Pulling them over his feet and up to his knees, I rose and hefted him to his feet. He stood unprotesting as I worked the waistband over his hips, then moved willingly with me into the bedroom.
I threw back the covers and lowered him to sit on the bed. Putting one hand behind his head, I rested his head against the pillow and lifted his legs. He'd started to shiver in a combination of pain and delayed shock, I supposed. I covered him up and got a heavy blanket out of the closet, throwing that over him, too.
I got myself something to sleep in and went to take a shower. I stood under the water and tried like hell to figure out what I was doing and why I was doing it.
I'd just carefully tended the wounds of a man I knew to be a stone cold killer. And tucked him into my bed.
I'd lost my mind.
What did I care if he was killed in the damn hospital? Hell, I should have tossed him back into that burning house.
Yeah - the burning house. From which this amoral murderer, betrayer and multiple agent had saved a kid.
Apparently, he'd lost his mind, too.
But then, he'd also saved my life. And Mulder's. Probably, I admitted to myself, Scully's too. I felt sure that he had no idea just how much I knew about him... After the nanocyte debacle, I'd made it my business to investigate Alex Krycek as thoroughly as possible. Not that I'd found much - but what I had managed to discover had been most... illuminating. And uncomfortable.
I'd always been attracted to Krycek. Hell, who wouldn't be? I mean, the man is sex on two legs, for god's sake. At first, I'd held back because he was my subordinate and because I was married. Then - well, hell - that night he'd spent on my balcony... I'd tossed and turned all night thinking of him. Just as I had been doing far too often since. And now, here he was. In my bed, hurt and vulnerable and looking better than ever.
It promised to be a very long night.
I shook my head and got out of the shower.
I went into the bedroom to check and see if maybe it had all been a dream or even a hallucination. No such luck. He was still in my bed. And, he was shaking convulsively, shivering so hard that his teeth were chattering with cold.
Great. I rolled my eyes and gave in to the inevitable. He watched me bemused, as I moved to the side of the bed and lifted the covers.
"Move over," I told him.
Silently, he shifted backwards and I climbed it to lie beside him. I turned off the light and pulled him against me. Stiff with shock, he tried to resist.
"Alex, just come here."
"Skinner," he muttered. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because I'm mad."
"Oh." He thought about that for a second, then gave in and let me pull him close. "You're mad, huh?"
"Certifiable." I confirmed.
This seemed to make perfect sense to him. He nodded and lay against me. Slowly, my warmth seemed to sink into him, and he gradually relaxed. It took a while, but his breathing slowed as he fell asleep.
I lay awake, thoughts chasing themselves around my brain, which was probably a good thing. I hoped I hadn't gone so far around the bend that I'd actually fall asleep with Alex Krycek in my arms.
I woke reluctantly, unwilling to climb out of the wonderful warmth and security my bizarre dream had evolved into. My nose itched though, and I raised my hand to scratch it.
Bad move. The nerve endings in my hand came screaming to life and I gasped, sitting up abruptly in my bed.
Except, of course, it wasn't my bed. Absolutely, definitely not my bed. And, my bizarre dream, not a dream after all.
As I sat there gaping, Skinner grumbled and snorted, opening his eyes to frown at me. "What?"
Holy freakin' shit! I was in bed with Skinner. Walter Skinner. AD Walter Skinner.
The phone rang. I watched in a trance, as Skinner rolled to one side and picked up the receiver.
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Yes, Mulder?"
I groaned. Hell, he'd given Mulder's name to that cop last night. Soon enough, I supposed, Mulder would come storming through the front door and throw me off of the balcony.
And then, Skinner put one arm behind his head, grinned and stretched like a great big old cat. "Yes, Agent Mulder, I did give your name to a District police officer last night."
I could hear sputtering noises coming from the phone.
"You don't say?" Asked Skinner. "The press, huh?"
More noises. Increasing in volume.
"Mmmhmm," Skinner rumbled. "Yes, indeed, I can see where that might be a problem."
Sounds that bore a distressing similarity to cursing came from the phone. Skinner's grin widened. "I can't imagine why you don't remember, Mulder. You must have hit your head at some point last night."
I'd never imagined that Skinner enjoyed playing Mulder so much. He did, though. The grin was my first tip-off. The decided twinkle in his eye cinched the deal. I snickered.
"Well, Agent Mulder, I'll be happy to refresh your memory." Another pause. "Oh no, it's no trouble at all. You were working an undercover case in a questionable part of town and there was a fire. You bravely ran into a burning building and saved a young boy. Of course, I couldn't let an undercover operative go to the hospital, so I took you home, bandaged your injuries and put you to bed."
At this point, Skinner put the phone under the covers and laughed. Out loud.
I was amazed. Who'd have thought the big guy smiled, let alone laughed?
He'd been telling me the truth last night... he was mad. Or, an alien.
Once he'd recovered his equanimity, Skinner once again raised the phone to his ear. "What was that, Mulder?" He pursed his lips, listening intently. "Your arm? Hmmm, well, the last I heard that particular arm was in Russia."
Oh, jesus. I snorted with laughter.
Really loud noises coming from the phone now. The words Krycek and Rat and Bastard recurred several times.
Skinner sat up in bed and straightened his shoulders. I grinned, recognizing the signs.
"Agent Mulder!" Skinner frowned fiercely. It looked a bit strange atop the grin that still decorated his mouth. "You will do no such thing. Do you understand me, Mulder?"
Heh, the VOICE had done the trick. Suddenly the noises from the other end of the phone became much quieter.
"Absolutely not, Mulder. I have excellent reasons for my actions and, all things considered, I think that you'd best rethink your position."
He rested back against the pillows and bit his lip, trying, I think, to contain the laughter I could see brimming in his expression.
"I'm fine Mulder." Pause. "No, Mulder... no aliens, no guns, no blackmail." Another, longer pause, during which, Skinner turned his head and looked at me for the first time since his conversation with Mulder had begun. "Yes, he is... no, he's not... Mulder," sigh "the man couldn't hold a gun if his life depended on it. He was injured in the fire... Yes, there was a fire... Yes, he pulled a kid out of said fire... Yes, Mulder, I am sure he's Krycek..."
At this point he winked at me.
My mouth dropped open in shock and he chuckled.
"What? Yes, I laughed... No, I do not want you to come over, Mulder."
He listened and then held the phone out to me. "He wants to talk to you."
I shrugged. What the hell? I mean, it had become quite apparent to me that my neighbor - the sweet lady - must have been manufacturing hallucinogens in her fucking basement and that I'd gotten a snootful last night during the fire. I just had to stay strong and ride it out.
He put the phone on my shoulder and I tilted my head to hold it in place. "Hello?"
"Krycek? Is that you?"
"Yes, Mulder, it's me."
"What's wrong with your voice?"
"What have you done to Skinner?"
I raised my brows at the question. "I haven't done anything to him, Mulder."
"Why's he acting so strange?"
"Hell, Mulder, I don't know."
"Then you agree he's acting... strange?"
I nearly choked with laughter. After a couple of minutes of coughing during which I managed to drop the phone, Skinner resettled the receiver on my shoulder and grinned at the expression on my face.
"Mulder," I said, "you don't know the half of it... the man's laying here smiling and laughing and winking at me."
"Laying there? You're in bed with him?"
Oops. "Uh... well, yeah, actually, I am."
"Holy shit, Krycek!" He sounded a little envious, to tell you the truth. "How... What..." He sputtered for a couple of seconds, then gathered his wits and picked up on what he must have seen as the most amazing part of my description of Skinner's behavior. "He winked at you?"
"I see. Um, listen, Krycek... did you... I mean, did he... Hell, you know what I'm trying to ask."
Oh yeah. I sure did. I lost it. The phone dropped and I collapsed back on the pillows and giggled. Now, I'm not often given to giggles... but, given my drugged state, and Skinner's madness and Mulder's confusion, I decided to overlook my lapse. Skinner raised his brow at me in inquiry and I tried mightily to tell him what had me in such a state. "He... he wants to know if we... if you..." I choked and gave up talking, concentrating instead on breathing between fits of laughter.
Skinner picked up the phone and I could hear Mulder's voice rising indignantly and that set me off again.
"Just a minute, Mulder," Skinner said into the receiver. "Krycek's enjoying a fit of the giggles just now."
"He's what?" Mulder's voice was so loud that I heard him quite clearly from my side of the bed.
"He's giggling, Mulder... No, Mulder, we're not drunk... No, no drugs, either."
Speak for yourself big boy
"All right, then. Oh, and Mulder? Stop and pick up something for breakfast on your way over, would you?"
Skinner shrugged and looked over at me. "What would you like for breakfast, Alexei? Mulder's going to stop."
Oh. Alexei My giggles stopped and I turned to look at him.
"What? I called him Alexei... No, he told me last night that he prefers that name."
Once again, Skinner put the phone to my shoulder.
"Should I bring Scully with me?"
"What?" My eyes opened wide. "No, Mulder... absolutely, positively not. Jesus, are you nuts?"
"Well," Mulder said, "I just wondered... I mean, what if there's really something wrong with him?"
"No, you moron. With President Clinton. Of course, with Skinner."
I snorted. "I think he's all right, Mulder. Just in a... strange mood."
Skinner started to laugh again.
"He's laughing again, isn't he?" Mulder asked in a low voice.
"Yes, he is. How very perceptive of you, Agent Mulder."
I looked over and saw that Skinner had put a pillow over his face to muffle his shouts of laughter.
"I'll be right there."
"Okay, Mulder... Don't forget breakfast."
He didn't answer me. He'd already hung up. Probably falling down in his haste to get here.
Skinner hung up the phone and grinned at me. "Thanks, Alex, I can't remember when I've had quite so much fun."
"Hey, no problem, Skinner."
"Oh." I frowned. He couldn't possibly mean... could he?
"Just remember, when Mulder gets here, my name is Walt."
I fell over laughing. "Oh god, Skinner. You are an evil, evil man." I finally managed to gasp.
He winked at me again. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, Alexei."
Rolling out of the bed, he stretched and ambled off to the bathroom. "I'm gonna get dressed and make coffee. Come on down when you're ready."
I lay there for several minutes, laughing in fits and starts as I reviewed our conversation with Mulder. Poor Mulder. Finally, deciding that I might as well go downstairs, I rose and made my way to the living room. I could hear Skinner in the kitchen and wandered in that direction. I came around the corner and every bit of breath was sucked from my lungs when I saw him.
Wow. I mean... WOW! He'd dressed all right. In jeans. That's all. No shirt, no shoes, no socks. Just those damn jeans. I'd seen him without his shirt once. 'Course, that wasn't one of the better nights of my life, but still, I'd never forgotten the sight. And now... well, damn.
He turned and, noticing my slack-jawed stare, grinned and leaned back against the counter. That was when I noticed that the button at his waist was unfastened and that his zipper was not quite closed.
Whatever that lady had been cooking in her basement had been good shit. I made a mental note to strike up a friendship with her as soon as possible.
But, in the meantime...
"You dressed, and I must add that I use the term very lightly, that way deliberately, didn't you?" I asked him, still staring in fascination at all that... all that... I know I'm repeating myself here but... wow.
His head tilted back and he looked at me from under lowered lids.
I cleared my throat and swallowed. I eyed him again, then smiled. "I see."
Jesus. Who the hell was this guy? Certainly not the Skinner I knew. I sent my disbelief to the basement and locked the door.
"Oh yeah," I answered. "Definitely getting the picture here. I only hope you have smelling salts on hand, because Mulder's gonna pass out cold once he gets the picture."
A mental picture of Mulder swooning brought a gleeful smile to my lips. Alex grinned at me and we broke into laughter again.
After a moment, Alex looked past me at the coffee and raised a brow. "Is that ready yet?"
"Yeah," I said. "You need cream or sugar?"
He shook his head, so I poured two cups and carried them to the table. I turned back and gave him an appraising look. "How's the arm this morning?"
He shrugged. "Not bad."
"And the hand?"
That got a grimace. "A little sore."
"Hmm." A little sore probably meant it hurt like hell. "Wait here, I'm going to get you another painkiller and a couple of antibiotics."
I went upstairs and collected the pills, the gauze and the burn ointment. When I got back to the kitchen, he was still standing where I'd left him, staring into space. His expression reminded me of the look on Mulder's face when he was working on a particularly puzzling case.
I set my supplies on the table and crossed to him. Starting a bit at my approach, Alex watched me closely. Almost, but not quite touching him, I stopped and stared at him seriously. "Are you all right with this?"
A grin spread across his face. "With your evil and salacious plan, you mean?"
"I don't have a problem in the world with it, Walt." He leaned toward me and raised his face to mine.
"That's good," I whispered as I rested my hands on his hips and bent forward to let my lips touch his. I tasted him slowly, savoring the softness of his lips, the warm puff of air that ghosted across my mouth when he exhaled heavily. I raised my head. "What about Mulder?"
His eyes opened slowly, and he stared at me dazedly. "What about him?" He finally asked.
I smiled; this was going very well. "You don't have a problem with him either?"
"And, he with us?" I asked.
"Well, at the very least, we'll find out exactly how open to extreme possibilities the Fox actually is."
I grinned and kissed him again, then turned to grab a glass of water for the pills, and a straw. "C'mon and sit down. Take your pills and drink your coffee, then I'll put cream on your hand and rebandage it."
He frowned at the pills when I held them out to him. "Just what kind of pain pills are you feeding me?"
"Tylenol three, that's all. Now, open up and swallow the damn things."
He did as I asked, reluctantly. Once the pills were down, I transferred the straw to his coffee and sat down.
"So, Walt, do we have a game plan?"
He grinned. "I have a couple of ideas, Alexei. Let's wait and see what happens when he gets here."
I looked down at my arm and frowned. "You wouldn't by chance have a shirt I could borrow, would you?"
"No, Walt. I'm missing an arm, in case you hadn't noticed."
He shrugged. "If you really want a shirt, I'll scrounge something up for you, but that half-naked look really works on you. The arm doesn't bother me, and I don't think Mulder will even take much notice of it."
"Okay, if you think it's best, I'll manage."
"Good," he smiled. He looked at his watch and stood up. "Come on, Alex, let's set the scene. He'll be here soon."
We went into the living room, and Walt directed me to sit on the sofa. He sat next to me and rebandaged my hand. Such a large man... such a gentle man. It had been so very long since anyone had shown me any compassion, that I was close to melting.
Once the bandaging was done, he kissed me again and arranged me on the middle cushion of the couch. I would be the second thing Mulder saw when he arrived and I just couldn't wait to see the look on his face. I'd wanted Mulder since the first time I laid eyes on him, and Skinner... well, once you've seen him in full AD mode he's just about the sexiest thing going. And that body. I eyed the expanse of his chest and licked my lips.
"Do you think this'll work?" I asked him.
"Mulder's an odd one, Alexei. He suppresses his sexual urges through violence and insolence. I think he'll go for it - if we handle him right."
"Um, Walt, maybe you should know that I haven't done the threesome thing."
"Not to worry. We'll work it out. Besides, if I'm wrong about Mulder it'll just be the two of us."
Oh. Well... 'Just the two of us'... I liked the sound of that. I liked it a lot! Either way, I was gonna get the chance to bed at least one of the two men I'd been lusting after all these years.
The doorbell rang and Skinner smiled. "It's showtime."
I paced indecisively in the hallway outside Skinner's door for several minutes, thinking furiously. Hell, I didn't know what was going on but... shit, the two of them giggling like teenagers? Sharing a bed? Skinner winking at Krycek? Krycek the hero - running into a burning building to rescue a child?
This, I decided, was most assuredly looking like a genuine, bonafide X-File. And, that being the case, my duty lay clear before me.
I rang the doorbell, holding the coffee in one hand and a bag of cinnamon rolls in the other, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Skinner opened the door, standing back and rubbing one hand across his bare chest. Whoa. For a moment I just stood there dumbly, remembering the last time I'd seen him dressed - well, okay, if you want to be technical about it... undressed - like this.
"Mulder," he stepped back to let me in.
His movement jolted me out of my trance. I swallowed heavily and thrust the cardboard tray and bag of rolls into his hands. "Uh, here, sir. Breakfast, as ordered."
With a nod, Skinner took the items and crossed to the couch where Krycek sat. I looked at my nemesis and... Well, hell. I was in trouble here. Big trouble. The rat had on pajama bottoms. That's all. No shirt, no shoes, no socks... no arm. And, he looked almost vulnerable. Kind of shy, you know? Those indecently long lashes shielded his eyes as he glanced at me sideways, and I gulped.
Trying to salvage the situation, I shrugged nonchalantly and walked into the room. "Hello, Krycek."
"Alexei," Skinner rumbled at me disapprovingly.
Krycek dipped his head to hide his rising blush, and I... Wait a minute! Blush? He was blushing! What in the hell was going on around here? Who were these men? Most important of all, why was I here? If they were doing what I strongly suspected they were doing, the last thing they needed was yours truly in the way. Skinner could have stopped my visit with a very few well-chosen words and we all knew it. Why then had he told me to come over? And bring food?
I concentrated on all of the questions crowding my brain and ruthlessly quashed that inner voice that kept trying to remind me of how much I'd always wanted Skinner: of the way Krycek had always been able to get to me: of my complete inability to control my reactions to the bastard. Of my own loneliness and need.
Nope - I would definitely not think about why I suddenly felt left out in the cold. Alone again and all that shit.
"Alex is fine," Krycek offered softly in that husky voice made even deeper by smoke damage. He looked up at me and smiled hesitantly. "Morning, Mulder. What did you bring for breakfast?" He grinned. "Walt and I are starving."
I looked over at Krycek, er, Alex. "Hazelnut coffee and cinnamon rolls," I said blankly, still trying to comprehend the situation. They couldn't really have... Could they?
"Sir," I turned my head to look at Skinner. "What is going on here? I mean, you and Kry... Alex, aren't um... well, you know."
Skinner raised his brows at me in polite enquiry. "Aren't, um, what, Mulder?"
"Did you really sleep with him last night?"
Krycek seemed to suddenly find the pant leg of his pajamas to be the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. I stared at him suspiciously.
"Huh?" I asked brilliantly.
'Walt' shrugged. "Mulder, if you're in my home on a Saturday morning asking me personal questions I think we can forego the formalities." He set the cardboard tray on the coffee table and indicated that I should sit at one end of the couch. "And, yes, we did sleep in the same bed last night."
I opened my mouth to ask the obvious next question, but he stopped me when he continued. "No, Mulder, we didn't have sex. We just slept."
"Oh." I took a seat on the edge of the couch, resting my hands uncomfortably on my knees. Krycek was so close that I could feel his warmth, and I shifted back into the corner of the couch. "Why?"
"Why what?" Skinner asked as he put my coffee in front of me, and added Krycek's as an afterthought.
"Um..." Shit! This was not going at all well. "Why did you sleep with him?"
"Because he was injured and shocky, and I wanted to keep a close eye on him." Damn him, Skinner sounded so fucking reasonable I wanted to scream. "Alex burned his hand badly last night so we'll have to help him eat."
"We will?" Mind like a steel trap, that's me.
"Yes," Skinner said in an uncompromising manner. "We will."
Krycek, the bastard, looked like he was going to bust out laughing any minute. I glared at him, then tuned my attention to Skinner. "Please explain to me why we are feeding the man who murdered my father, was implicated in Scully's abduction by Duane Barry - whom he most likely then killed, assisted in an attempt on Scully's life which resulted in the death of her sister, stole the digital tape..." I glared at Krycek. "Allowed me to be used as a test subject in a prison camp in Russia..."
"Because his hand is burned and he can't do it himself."
Have I mentioned how that oh so fucking reasonable tone of voice Skinner uses to such great effect makes me want to scream the house down? Well, it fucking does!
"Fine," I said through clenched teeth. "Walt, this man-"
Skinner sighed and leaned over to pick up Krycek's coffee offering him a sip with such care I felt a bolt of jealousy sear through me. "Mulder," he said patiently - patient was almost as maddening as reasonable, in case you were wondering. "I know exactly who and what Alexei is. Can you say the same?"
I opened my mouth to say... hell, I had no idea how to respond to that one.
"You do?" Krycek looked at Skinner and frowned.
"Alex," Skinner met his eyes then looked at me. "I think it's time you tell Mulder here why you've been hiding out in the ghetto."
Krycek mumbled something as he shifted closer to Skinner. I caught the word 'contract' but no more.
"What?" I asked.
Krycek... Alex sighed and closed his arm protectively around his middle. "Because Spender has a contract out on my life."
Skinner - dammit, Walt - nodded. "Now tell him why."
"Because you're alive. I didn't kill you."
Huh? "Didn't kill who?" I asked.
"All of you," Krycek said reluctantly. "Just like baseball, Mulder. Three strikes, you know? I didn't kill Scully, strike one. I didn't kill you, strike two. And," he looked into my eyes; "I wouldn't kill Skinner... strike three."
Narrowing my eyes, I glared at him. "You don't really expect me to believe-"
"Shit, Mulder, I don't expect one single godamned thing from you." Krycek rose awkwardly to his feet. "Fuck! You know I..." he moved away from the sofa and turned to face us both. "He was not your father, and if I hadn't killed him when I did he'd have told you everything and then you'd have been killed."
I stared at him, open-mouthed. I might learn truths here. I could see it in his face. A face I'd hated and lusted after at the same time for years. A face I wished I'd never seen. A face that had actually helped me on occasion, and lied to me the rest of the time.
"Alexei," Skinner growled, "leave it."
Krycek shook his head "No, Walt. Now's as good a time as any for this." He turned to meet my eyes again. "I had nothing to do with Scully's abduction. I did keep you from becoming an abductee that day, though."
"How?" I asked, fascinated with this new, restless, relentless harbinger of possible truths.
"You were the target, Mulder. If you'd gotten up to Skyland, they'd have taken you. I couldn't let that happen." He frowned and looked away from me. "As for Duane Barry... I didn't kill him any more than I killed Melissa Scully; but you know that, don't you?" He met my eyes and I could see real pain in his expression. "In Russia... in Russia, you dumb fuck, I almost had us out of there free and clear when you had to..." He blinked, his eyes suspiciously bright. "Fuck you, Mulder. Go home. This was a bad idea."
I stared silently as he turned and headed for the stairs. "I'll be upstairs, Walt," he said quietly.
Skinner rested his head against the back of the couch. "Mulder, why the hell is everything so damned complicated with you?" He asked the ceiling. "Okay, look, maybe I was wrong. If so, I apologize. You go on home and do whatever it is you do in your free time."
"You're going to..?"
He straightened and sighed. "I don't know, Mulder. After this, I just don't know anymore."
I swallowed. "Sir... um, Walt, why did you let me come here this morning?"
He shook his head tiredly. "Because I thought, apparently mistakenly, that you wanted us as much as we wanted you."
They wanted me? Uh oh. I began to get the picture and my part in it wasn't pretty. I grimaced. "Sir... how can you justify this?"
With a snort, Skinner rose to his feet. "Justify?" He repeated in a disbelieving voice. "Go home, Mulder. Leave my conscience to me. Just... go on home."
I shook my head in confusion. "But I-"
He bent down to grab his and Krycek's coffees. "I'm going upstairs to check on Alex now, Mulder." He turned to leave the room.
I put one hand on his arm. "I don't... I'm not sure..." Dammit, Mulder, spit it out already "I don't know what to do," I finally said helplessly.
One warm hand came to rest on my shoulder. "It is what it is, Mulder," he said quietly. "No more, no less. I want him. I always have. I've wanted you too, but I'll not let your fucking morals stop me from having what I can." He shrugged and dropped his hand form my shoulder. "I apologize for making you uncomfortable with this. I made a mistake."
"It's not so much that I'm uncomfortable..." I said softly. "I'm..."
"I'm afraid, okay? The idea scares me to death. What if he-" My words tumbled over themselves in a confused jumble. "Everyone leaves me, sir. Everyone dies. I can't let myself care for him... for you that way. It would make it so much worse when-"
The hand on my shoulder tightened. "Mulder, for an intelligent man you can be so damned stupid," he sighed and released his hold on me. "Don't you already care for both of us? What are gonna do, hmmm? Spend your entire life in splendid isolation?"
I shrugged uncomfortably and wrapped my arms around my torso.
He looked at me for a moment. "Mulder..." With a heavy sigh he turned to the stairs. "I'm going up. Alex needs me."
So do I
I stood silent and watched him leave the room.
Lying in Walt's bed, wrapped in the heavy comforter, I stared sightlessly at the wall. What the hell had I been thinking anyway? To think that Mulder might want me, might actually be willing to look beyond the obvious... I was a fool. For whatever reason, Mulder had never been able or willing to look at my true motives. I sighed and curled more tightly around myself.
I heard a movement behind me and closed my eyes.
"I'm sorry, Alex."
Skinner walked over and sat on the bed next to me. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes and looked up at him. "Don't be," I said rustily. "I should have known better. He'll never..."
"He's afraid, Alex."
Well, I could understand that. I offered Walt a weak smile and moved back a little, hoping he'd take the hint. "We're all afraid, doesn't he know that?"
He lay down beside me and pulled me into his arms. It was heaven. God, he was so big and warm and he made me feel... unafraid. I breathed in shakily and burrowed my head into his wide shoulder. I wanted to cry. I really did. I mean, this whole situation was so fraught with emotions and needs and desires that I was fast losing my tenuous control of my own feelings. It was so damned confusing - and so fucking painful - that I just wanted to sob until that comfortable numbness that came after a good crying jag descended.
Of course, I couldn't do that. Hell, I hadn't cried since the night my own father handed me over to that smoking bastard's "care". Over twenty years ago, that had happened. I'd cried that night for the last time. No more childhood for Alexei after that...
"Shh," Skinner soothed me. He rubbed my back with one large hand and with the other he stroked my hair. "This was my fault, Alex... I thought he might just be ready to admit..."
I choked out a laugh. "So did I, Walt. So did I."
Pulling me even closer, he lifted my chin so that our eyes could meet. "I really am sorry to have put you through that little scene, Alex." He shrugged and a slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Are you okay?"
My arm moved across his chest and I let my bandaged hand touch his neck. "I'm getting there, Walt. We'll be fine," I said, suddenly wanting to offer him comfort. "After all, you did say that if he said no... um, that you... that we..." I stumbled to silence, caught by the gentle gleam in his eyes.
"Mmmhmm," he rumbled. "Indeed I did."
Oh my. Suddenly, I felt much better. All was not lost after all - I might want Mulder, but here was Skinner offering me... so much more than I'd ever expected. "Just the two of us," I repeated his earlier words with a grin.
A faint noise reached me from the hallway and I - I'm a little embarrassed to admit this - I buried my face in Skinner's shoulder and closed my eyes again.
"Yes, Mulder?" Skinner asked quietly.
"I ah... I wanted to talk to Kry, um, Alex."
I took a deep breath and rolled to my back. "Go ahead then," I said wearily, careful not to meet his eyes.
He cleared his throat and looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to... I mean I was kind of... ah, hell." He rubbed one hand across his eyes and looked at me. "This whole thing really threw me off balance, you know? I... " He sighed. "It scares me, Alex."
"It scares me too, Mulder," I said softly. "But, the way I see it, there's no point in running now. I mean, I've admitted that I want both of you. That was the hard part. The rest..." I grinned. "The rest should be easy. Not to mention fun."
Skinner snorted. "You calling me easy, Alexei?"
"I think he's calling you fun, sir." Mulder sounded like he just might be willing to get with the program now.
Mulder gulped. "Sorry, si... Walt."
"Mulder," Walt sighed. "Would you just relax already? We're not gonna jump you, you know."
"Maybe that's the problem," he mumbled.
I laughed. Well, okay, I giggled. Mulder appeared to be quite amazed at the sight. That, of course, only increased my problem. Thing is, I have this annoying tendency to snort when my laughter gets out of hand. When I did just that, Mulder's mouth dropped open.
Then Skinner lost it. He has the most amazing laugh. Deep and booming, it shook the bed under us. That was what finally got to Mulder. His lips twitched, then a reluctant smile spread across his face. Pretty soon, he was bent over, laughing so hard I was afraid he might fall on his face.
Stumbling a bit, Mulder made his way to the end of the bed and sat down. I caught my breath. Did this mean what I thought it meant? My giggles wound down and I lay quietly, just watching him. Waiting for him to say something, do something, anything that might give me a clue as to what he was going to do next.
He sobered and turned to face us. "Um... maybe I should warn you that I've never... ah, well..."
Oh shit. "Mulder," I asked apprehensively. "Please tell me you're not straight." Jesus, wouldn't that be a kick in the ass?
Skinner snorted but didn't voice the comment that was obviously just begging to fly free.
Shaking his head, Mulder smiled. "You must know me better that that, Alex. All the time you've spent near me, you've got to have figured out that I'm bi."
"Okay, so, what is this warning about then?" Not entirely sure I could ever be ready for his answer, I held his gaze and did my best to not fidget while he gathered his words.
"Ah, well... I've been with men, and women. But not at the same time and not in crowds."
"I see." I shrugged. "Well, like I told Walt earlier, I've never actually done the threesome thing myself."
We both turned to look at Walt.
He smiled some more.
Finally, I nudged him with my shoulder. "Well?" I asked him.
He raised his eyebrows and managed to look oh so innocent. Hah. Innocent my ass!
"Wa-alt," I groaned. "Tell us."
"Tell you what?"
I looked to Mulder for help. He blushed a little, but manfully forced the words out. "Have you ever, um... done this?"
His smile widened even more and he settled himself more comfortably against the pillows, arms lifted, hands behind his head. "Well," he drawled, "obviously I haven't done this specifically..."
"How about generally, then?" Mulder asked with a slight smile.
He was definitely getting into the spirit of the thing. Now, if we could just get him to -
"So, Mulder," Skinner asked, "you gonna climb in here with us, or what?"
"Oh." Mulder looked at Walt then at me. And smiled. Standing up, he removed his shirt and toed off his shoes.
Well, now. Things were certainly looking up here. I grinned at Walt.
Mulder finished with his shoes and socks and stood at the foot of the bed looking at us uncertainly. "Where do I... I mean, um..."
Good old Walt. He shifted over a bit and patted the spot between us. "Right here, Agent Mulder. Where I can keep a close eye on you."
Wow. I wouldn't have thought it possible for Mulder to turn quite that shade of red. It was a good look for him, I must say.
The laughter had helped to relax me. Now, though, with both of them watching me so expectantly, I felt my earlier nervousness returning. In the middle... Damn. Between Skinner and Krycek.
With an indrawn breath, I awkwardly clambered up onto the bed and settled myself against the pillow Skinner, um, Walt, had propped up against the headboard for me. Then I lay there not quite sure what to expect next.
"You know," Alex said with a smirk, "if anyone had tried to tell me yesterday that I'd be in this position today, I'd have probably shot him."
Skinner snorted. "A little extreme don't you think, Alex?"
Krycek shrugged and lifted himself a little to look over at Walt. "So, you never did tell us, Walt. Have you ever been with more than one person at the same time?"
"Oh." Krycek frowned. "So, essentially, none of us has any idea what to do next."
"Well," Skinner smiled, "between the three of us, I'm sure we have enough experience to fumble our way through this."
Fumble being the operative word no doubt. I sighed, and turned to look at Alex. Tentatively, I lifted one hand to touch his face. His eyelids drooped, shuttering his expression. That was okay, though. His suddenly labored breathing, not to mention the way his chin tilted encouraging my exploration, told me that he didn't mind a bit.
Then Skinner touched me. He trailed his fingers up my arm and then rubbed his palm across my chest and I forgot to breathe. Oh boy. That man has the largest warmest hands! I'd been fantasizing about them for years. Can't help it, I have a thing about hands. Always have. And, Skinner's are definitely in my top ten list. In fact, now that I think about it... his hands are probably in the number one spot.
Krycek watched the movement of Walt's hand, then smiled down at me. "Mulder, breathe," he whispered.
I did. And he kissed me in reward.
Talk about forgetting to breathe. Damn. Krycek doesn't need any weapons. He really should consider just kissing his enemies into submission. By the time he drew back I couldn't have defended myself from a two-year-old. I lay there panting; a limp mass of flesh, while Krycek traced patterns across my face with his fingertips and Skinner's warm hand caressed my torso.
What the hell had I been thinking? Jesus, I'd almost climbed up on my high horse and ridden away from all of this. I moaned at the thought of what I'd might have missed.
"I've been watching your mouth for years now, Mulder." Oh. My. God. If Skinner had ever used that voice on me at work... Well, suffice it to say he'd probably still have all that hair he yanked out in frustrated anger over my arguing with him.
One finger carefully outlined my lips with fire. I was so distracted by that damned finger that I didn't even notice Walt moving closer until he captured my mouth with his own. And that was it for me. Bye-bye brain. I groaned and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him closer as I opened my mouth to let his tongue in.
And, Krycek was nibbling on my shoulder and neck while Skinner explored the recesses of my mouth. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to climb right inside of them... both of them.
One of my hands was busy exploring the planes of Walt's back, and ran into the waistband of his jeans. Impatient with the obstruction, I pulled my mouth away from his and frowned at him.
"Take 'em off," I ordered. Well, I tried to make it an order. The breathless quality of my voice probably detracted from my commanding tone. Whatever... it worked. He smiled and rolled to his back, reaching for his zipper. I immediately sat up and swatted his hands away.
"We'll do it," Alex said from behind me.
I turned my head we exchanged a grin. Once he'd moved down to the foot of the bed, I unzipped Walt's jeans and we slowly peeled them off of him. Damn. Old Walt is really something! His legs go on forever and ever. And, muscles... Damn, his legs should be a national monument to something or another.
I couldn't decide where to start. Then, I just shrugged and followed Krycek's lead. We each worked our way up the outside of a leg with our mouths and hands. By the time we reached his hips, Walt was breathing rather quickly. He groaned in momentary protest when we stopped, then sighed happily when we turned our attention to the insides of his knees and thighs.
Alex reached the apex of Walt's thighs and started nuzzling at his heavy balls. I stopped to watch in amazement as Skinner writhed and moaned under his skilled care. Damn.
I couldn't tell you exactly how it happened, but suddenly my jeans were unfastened and Walt was tugging at them impatiently. I didn't even hesitate. I pulled them off and tossed them onto the floor without a second thought. As I turned back, I noticed that Alex still had his pajama trousers on.
That was no good. I looked at Walt, then at the offending garment still decorating Alex. Skinner grinned and we wrestled him to the bed and stripped him. That Alex is a beautiful man. Really, truly beautiful. His amputated arm somehow seems to add to his attractiveness. Don't ask me why... maybe because it's a vulnerability he seldom allows anyone to see. Actually, I was more than a little touched that he trusted us enough to be so comfortable with his weakness revealed.
Walt took up a position on one side of Alex, and I stretched out along the other. We petted and stroked him until he was a wreck. What a responsive lover he turned out to be! Every touch drew a moan or a sigh; he even purred a time or two. It was a most gratifying sight.
I was nibbling at his soft lips when he gasped and arched up. Turning my head, I saw that Skinner had swallowed his cock to the root. I'd have been quite satisfied to lay there and enjoy the show, but Alex had other ideas. He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled my head down so he could kiss me.
Sorry, did I say kiss me? Devour me would be much more descriptive. I truly don't think I'd ever experienced anything quite like that kiss. His tongue pushed into my mouth demanding complete surrender, which I gave unconditionally. I'll bet he could have drawn you a detailed diagram of my mouth after that kiss. Embarrassingly premature ejaculation was a real concern to me by the time he finally released me.
I dropped my head and chewed distractedly on his neck while trying to recover my control. Groaning and panting from Skinner's attentions and mine Krycek tossed his head restlessly.
He was so much fun to play with; I just can't even begin to tell you how much. My lips traveled down his throat to the juncture of neck and shoulder. I stopped there for a bit, alternately sucking and licking at him. Judging by the response, that is a definite hot spot for Alex.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Jesus, you're gonna kill me."
Skinner chuckled around his mouthful of cock. I'm assuming that it felt pretty damn good, because Alex shouted and every muscle in his body went rigid.
"Ohmygod," he... well, I'd say he whimpered, but that really wouldn't fit his macho image. So, let's say he groaned the words. Yeah, that's it, he groaned. "Please stop... pleasedon'tmakemecomeyet."
Taking pity on the poor guy, Walt lifted his head and studied Krycek's flushed face. "What do you want, Alex?"
The question seemed to strike Alex dumb with surprise. I wondered if anyone had ever shown him any consideration in bed before this.
Green eyes opened impossibly wide, Alex looked at me and then at Mulder. He honestly didn't seem to have any idea what to say. The mute appeal in his eyes was the very last expression I ever thought I'd see in Krycek's face. My cock jumped in response.
He swallowed audibly and opened his mouth to speak. "I want... I want..." Pausing to gulp air, he met my eyes. "I want you to fuck me, Walt."
Oh yeah, we were cooking with gas now.
"And you?" I looked at Mulder. "What do you want?"
He looked at Alex's cock and licked his lips.
Hmmm. I considered the possibilities, discarding several scenarios before finally hitting on one I thought would work for us. I nodded and leaned over to get a tube of lubrication from the bedside drawer.
They were watching me closely, obviously waiting for direction, so I provided it. That's why I make the big money, I guess.
"Alex, on your knees." He obeyed with gratifying speed. I smiled and ran one hand over his trembling flank. Boy was anxious.
"What about me?" Mulder pouted.
That damn lower lip of his could drive a saint to sin. Unable to resist, I leaned over and gently tugged at it with my teeth. He sighed happily and pressed his opened lips against mine. I leisurely tasted him, mapping his mouth carefully with my tongue.
A soft touch on my erection broke my concentration, and I opened my eyes to see Alex watching us as his fingers traced random patterns on my cock. He smiled slowly at me and rubbed his thumb in the moisture collecting at the very tip.
Damn. I held my breath for a moment, collecting my frayed control, then looked at Mulder.
"You," I said huskily, "lay down. No, the other way, so that your head is between Alex's legs."
"Oh." Mulder's eyes were almost completely black; his pupils so dilated with arousal that only the barest ring of hazel was visible. He shifted into the desired position and looked up for further instruction.
I couldn't help but grin. Never, in all the years I'd known him, had Mulder been so eager to comply with my requests. I liked it. I liked it a lot.
"Give me your hand," I told Mulder. I squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "Now, get Alex ready for me."
With one hand on his shoulder in support, I urged Alex down until he rested across Mulder's torso, bracing himself with one arm on Mulder's stomach. They were an awe-inspiring sight.
Alex nuzzled at Mulder's pubic hair, gently pulling the curly strands with his lips, while Mulder carefully used one, then two fingers to open him up. When they were both breathing hard and moaning, I decided I'd better make my move before I came just from watching and listening.
What did I ever do to deserve this? I still don't know the answer to that one. I hope I figure it out soon, though. Whatever it was, I intend to do it again and again.
Very, very carefully, I applied lube to my straining erection and moved up until the head was pressing lightly at the entrance to Alex's body. He moaned and pushed back towards me. Impatient kid. Gently, I let my hips move, easing my way into his body a little at a time. Damn, he was like a furnace inside. I clenched my teeth and prayed for control.
Then, he gasped and lurched forward. Looking down, I saw that Mulder had opened his mouth and was sucking steadily at Alex's cock.
Damn. Suddenly, I was thrusting into him, unable to stop. All thoughts of control went out the window as he moaned his response and moved in counterpoint. My hands were moving restlessly over Alex's back, stroking and scratching lightly. I needed a distraction of some kind. Anything to make this last just a little longer...
My eyes followed the long line of Alex's back and fell upon the sight of him sucking Mulder off. Oh god. That wouldn't do. The very sight brought me to the edge. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, gasping for air.
Shit. I straightened in delighted surprise. Mulder's busy fingers were suddenly investigating the texture of my ballsac. When they moved a bit to stroke my perineum, I moaned and closed my hands on Alex's hips with bruising force.
"Shit!" I yelled. "Damn, Alex. You are so fucking hot, I-"
He shoved his hips back towards me forcefully and gave a muffled shout. His sphincter tightened convulsively around me as he came.
I managed to hold on for all of three or four milliseconds before tumbling over the edge myself. Holding his hips firmly in place, I poured myself into the recesses of his body with a loud groan.
Mulder had started thrashing in the meantime. His hips arched up off of the bed and he started begging. "God, Alex," he moaned. "Please let me come. Please."
I leaned forward a bit to see exactly what had him in such a state, and grinned. Krycek had closed his fingers firmly around the base of Mulder's cock, refusing him the release he so desperately needed.
Damn, Mulder taste so fucking good. I'd have been happy to suck him all day. Working my mouth up and down his cock, I hummed with contentment. Vaguely, I heard him begging me to let him come, but I couldn't quite bring myself to let him go yet. I tightened my hold, and continued to suck him into my mouth, swallowing him completely every third or fourth stroke. Every time I did that, he whined.
I loved it.
Walt nudged me aside and when I did as he asked, he leaned down and kissed Mulder. Then, he slowly worked his way down the man's body, pausing to give special attention to his nipples.
Mulder shuddered under the dual assault, and his begging continued unabated.
"Please, oh, damn... please let me come. Oh god, I can't stand it." He was whimpering and thrashing and sweat rolled off of his body.
Damn, he's a gorgeous sight when he loses control.
Skinner slid down and moved one of Mulder's legs, bending it at the knee and shoving it aside. With an evil little smirk, he ducked his head down and started licking Mulder's balls.
"Oh, Fuu-uuck," Mulder panted. "Jesus, please letmecomenow!"
I raised a brow at Skinner in inquiry. He wet one finger and reached under Mulder to rub at his asshole, then gave me a nod. I took a deep breath, released my hold and swallowed Mulder's cock whole.
"Shit! Fuck! YES!"
Mulder arched up, every muscle in his body trembling, and I felt the contractions begin. I continued to work him until the spasms had stopped, then let his cock slip from my mouth.
"Oh my god," Mulder moaned. "I think you've killed me."
Skinner smiled and pinched his ass.
"Hey!" Mulder protested half-heartedly.
"If you can still talk, you're not dead, Mulder."
"Fuck you, Skinner," Mulder said, still somewhat breathless.
"Mmmm," Skinner rumbled. "Maybe next time. I'm too tired right now, you boys wore me out."
Next time? My breathing quickened at the implication. Wow... next time, indeed.
Walt collapsed onto the bed and groaned. "I think a short nap is in order," he said sleepily.
Mulder rolled onto his side and snuggled back into Skinner's warmth. He sighed happily and looked up at me.
"C'mere," he murmured, holding one arm up. I lay down beside him and he pulled me close, resting his head on my shoulder. His arm closed around my waist and he closed his eyes.
For the longest time, I just lay there, listening to them breath, remembering the past few hours. Damn. I still couldn't believe it. Shitfire, I'd have run into a hundred burning buildings for this. For even a fraction of what we'd shared this morning. It had been the most incredible encounter of my life.
And, continuously running through my brain was the sound of Walt saying, "next time".
With that promise ringing in my ears, I fell asleep.
(C. Smith - R. Miner)
Take me in your arms
I want your tender charm
'Cause I'm lonely
And I'm blue
I need you
And your love too
Come on and rescue me