Title: CHANCE ENCOUNTERS II
Story in 6 parts
Date: Written July, 1999
Posted October, 1999
Summary: A series of chance encounters can have personal consequences.
Archive: Ratlover, CJK, Basement.
DISCLAIMER: These are the property of CC, Fox and
1013. But, by chance, I too encountered them.
CHANCE ENCOUNTERS: This being the Second
Washington, DC, in the summer was hot, humid and
because of that tempers flared easily.
Being AD meant, among other things, that one had to
maintain a cool image even if the temperature outside
was in the high nineties with a humidex reading over a
hundred. And even if the tempers level inside the
Bureau was volcanic.
Mulder and Scully were at each other throats because of
a disagreement over some forensic evidence. Two of his
other field agents had been handed divorce papers on
their return home. Another hadn't ducked quickly
enough when some idiot went after his girlfriend with a
And Jeff Spender had spent the afternoon detailing a
report that should have taken twenty minutes max.
Every time he had tried to hurry Spender on, Spender
felt it necessary to remind Skinner of all the reasons
the report had to be so detailed. In the long run, he
had just shut up and let the twerp get on with it.
So, when Skinner opened the door to his apartment, he
was fighting off a headache of gigantic proportions.
All he wanted was a cool shower, a handful of something
for the headache and an evening of peace and quiet.
He knew it wasn't going to happen when he heard Miles
Davis softly moaning on his trumpet.
He put his briefcase down along with his jacket as he
drew his weapon from his holster.
A careful look-through the apartment told him that the
balcony doors were open -- a slight breeze moved the
sheer drapes -- when they shouldn't have been.
And that, on a table by the doors, someone had set up
an ice bucket, a glass and an opened bottle of scotch.
A suspicion was forming in his mind. He let the weapon
drop to his side and walked quietly to the table.
There he put some ice into the glass, poured some of
the scotch, swirled it around savouring the scent of
The first mouthful helped push back some of the
headache. He refilled the glass and went out onto the
Krycek, wearing jeans and a thin white t-shirt, was
sitting on the floor, back against the wall, just
looking out over the city.
Skinner went and sat next to him.
Silently, the two men sipped their drinks, listening to
Davis and the barely audible traffic sounds from below.
"You're looking well," Skinner finally broke the
Krycek was looking well. The past four months had to
have been less traumatic than the previous year. He
looked fit, relaxed, angelic. He turned his head
sideways to look Skinner over, green eyes filled with
"You, on the other hand, look like hell."
Skinner rested his head against the wall, closed his
eyes. "It's been that kind of week. And it's only
Wednesday." He sighed.
Later, when he was being honest with himself, he had to
admit that he wasn't too surprised when Krycek moved to
straddle his legs.
He kept his eyes closed while his tie was removed, his
shirt was unbuttoned.
While Krycek's mouth played with his.
He couldn't call the tongue invasive when his own was
exploring Krycek's mouth at the same time.
Neither man was in a hurry. Seemingly quite content
with just tasting.
Then Krycek's mouth moved on and Skinner just sat
there, his head tilted back. When the mouth moved to
his chest, he demurred. "I need to take a shower."
Krycek ignored the comment. Moved on to his nipples,
playing with the nubs with his tongue, gently biting,
using his teeth to pull on them just to the point where
the pleasure threatened to become pain.
Skinner put his glass down, brought his hand up to
massage Krycek's nape, silently encouraging the man.
After Krycek had built a fire in the pit of his
stomach, he pulled the man's head back up to capture
his mouth again.
Krycek rested his body against Skinner's chest,
enjoying the play of Skinner's mouth on his face and
neck. Skinner used his nose to nudge Krycek's chin up
so he could get access to the soft under-throat.
Krycek made a slight sound of approval, tipped his head
further back so that his throat was fully exposed to
"Alex." Skinner murmured between tastings, "I'm too
old to make love on a floor, especially a cement one.
And I need a shower. Let's take this upstairs where
we'll be more comfortable."
"Can I take a shower with you?" Krycek's voice had
hoarsened. He bent his head to run his tongue around
the swirls of Skinner's ear.
But neither of them made much effort to move from their
positions. Skinner pulled Krycek's t-shirt out of his
jeans and ran his hand up and across ribs and chest.
Fingers found hardened pebbles, pinched and pulled.
Krycek arched his back, grunted.
His own hand was busy freeing Skinner of his belt,
slipping into his pants, under the waistband of his
shorts to find his awakening cock. Skinner's hips
bucked into the hand.
"Too quick," he protested to Krycek. He captured the
wandering hand, dropped his own to Krycek's waist, held
Still touching, still tasting, the men made their way
to their feet. Skinner pushed Krycek against the panel
of glass next to the balcony door, tried hard to devour
When they moved indoors, they nearly tripped over the
bottom run of the sliding doors, causing them both to
take a breath, and a breather. Krycek actually giggled
Skinner had a wide grin plastered on his face. There
was no hint of headache now. Hand gripping Krycek's
wrist, he tugged the man towards the stairs and up into
Undressing took a lot more time than it usually did.
There were shoes and boots to toe off. Jeans and pants
to remove, hands slowly stroking thighs and legs as
they made their descent. Shirt to join them on the
floor. T-shirt to be pulled off between kisses. A
newer version of prosthesis to be unstrapped, reddened
skin to be soothed with mouth and tongue. Skinner's
glasses removed and stored safely on a shelf.
Skinner managed to manoeuvre them to the tub, bent over
to turn on the taps, regulate the temperature of the
water. Krycek's mouth was identifying each of the
vertebrae, from his neck to the middle of his back.
Skinner turned his head to find Krycek's navel level
with his mouth. The perfect occasion for his own
exploration. His tongue dipped in, his teeth nibbled
on the edge.
They made it under the spray with just the minimum of
water getting on the floor.
Krycek took the soap from Skinner's hands, held it
under the spray. "My turn to wash you."
Skinner stood still, letting Krycek rub the bar of soap
over his chest, his ribs, turning when Krycek pushed a
bit so that his back got attention.
Krycek dropped the soap into the dish. His hand
slipped over Skinner's ass, massaging the tight
muscles, slipping between the cheeks. A finger found
the puckered muscle and teased its way in and out,
around, slowly. Went away to the sound of a soft
Krycek dropped to his knees, rubbed his nose between
Skinner's cheeks, until his mouth came to the asshole.
Skinner made a whimpering noise when Krycek's tongue
began playing with him, pushing its way into him, mouth
sucking on the outer muscle. He braced his hands
against the front wall of the shower and hoped his legs
would support him.
Krycek slowly stood, replacing his tongue with a
finger. There was an instant's hesitation until the
muscle relaxed and, head resting against Skinner's
shoulder, Krycek slowly eased in first one finger then
two. His own erection rested against Skinner's thigh
as he moved his fingers back and forth, gently turning
them so that his knuckles teased prostate. Skinner's
hips bucked in reaction.
"Alex. Don't. You'll make me come too soon."
Krycek rubbed his face against Skinner's back. "You
sound as though you only have one shot in you." But he
removed his fingers.
He slowly dropped to his knees, his mouth descending
Skinner's body, under the arm, till he knelt in front
of him. Hand on the back of Skinner's thigh. Took his
erection into his mouth.
Skinner groaned. Christ, it felt so damn good, that
Krycek swirled the tip of his tongue around the crown,
sucked hard before pushing his mouth further down the
Skinner pushed with his hips, forcing it further into
Krycek began pulling up, using his tongue to pressure
the large underside vein. Back to the crown. Brought
his hand forward to grasp the base, squeezing and
releasing. His tongue played with the slit on the
head, he sucked hard as if trying to pull Skinner's
Skinner thrust his hips forward, not caring any more if
he came too quickly.
Krycek's hand grabbed Skinner's balls, rolled them in
their casing, squeezed not that gently, rubbed his hand
around and up the perineum, finger back to asshole. He
inserted his finger, found Skinner's prostate again.
That was it for Skinner. He grabbed Krycek's head with
both hands, held it steady while he thrust back and
forth into that demanding mouth.
Krycek took a deep breath and swallowed shot after shot
of hot, salty-gamey come while Skinner shouted his
His cock slipped out of Krycek's mouth as his knees
released him to the floor of the tub. He still held
Krycek's head between his hands, rested his forehead
against Krycek's. Licked the white residue off
Krycek opened his mouth, let himself be tasted. Let
Skinner's tongue clean the remnants of his own semen
from the man's mouth.
Skinner gently kissed that mouth. Moved to kiss eyes,
worked his mouth down the nose to nip the tip with his
teeth. Krycek's eyes opened, surprised by the teasing.
"Your turn. But not in the tub. Any longer and we'll
both be too waterlogged to do anything." Skinner
kissed the devil smile that appeared on Krycek's angel
Getting out of the tub, drying each other was a long
At one point, Krycek gasped out, "You need to know.
It took Skinner a moment to decipher that, his mind was
still on the shower. He raised his head from the
nipple he was tormenting, made the connection when he
saw how serious Krycek was. "Me too."
He pushed Krycek till his back rested on the bathroom
door. Slowly traced a path with mouth and hands to
Krycek's demanding erection. Dropped to his knees and
took it deep into his mouth. He wasn't as proficient
as Krycek, not that Krycek noticed: he found that he
had to brace himself against the door, to keep his
knees from joining Skinner's.
Because he was less experienced in this, Skinner took
his time, very slowly working in more and more of
Krycek's cock into his mouth, from the tip of the head
to the point where his gag reflex warned him it was
All the time, his tongue played with the hard and
hardening contents of his mouth. The tip teasing the
crown, the flat pressuring the big vein that rose from
root to head.
Skinner's hands had been busy stroking up and down the
back of Krycek's thighs, kneading tightening ass
muscles, coming around to the front to push knees a bit
further apart so he could more easily access Krycek's
Then, remembering how it had felt, he used a finger to
stroke the perineum. His other hand to tease Krycek's
balls at the same time. Felt them rise in their casing
and thought he was prepared for Krycek's ejaculation.
Krycek was also better at swallowing than he was.
Krycek had more to clean up than he had.
They finally made it into the bedroom.
Because the edge had been blunted, they spent time just
exploring each other's bodies.
For Krycek, that was a novel experience. His sexual
encounters were mostly business. Fucks to disarm
contracts. A way of getting information. Usually
quick, often brutal. His body had been well trained to
show pleasure with almost anything done to it. But it
was rare that he actually felt pleasure.
Even rarer that someone took the time to discover what
really pleasured him. Had anyone ever bothered?
It hadn't been difficult to understand that Skinner was
not overly experienced with men. After all , he had
been married for seventeen years and, what he knew
about the man told him that he had taken his vows
seriously, at least until the end when there was that
thing with the dead hooker Mulder had told him about.
Maybe that was why Skinner was taking such time with
him: women were notorious for liking foreplay. The
foreplay in his world was usually nothing more than
some hip rubbing, a bit of yanking before the actual
And he was discovering that he liked all this touching
and tasting stuff. Liked having it done to him. Liked
doing it to Skinner.
Found that the soft noises Skinner made whenever he
stroked or caressed the right spots added to the fire
Skinner's hands, mouth were building in him.
When he'd come here, set up his seduction scene, he had
expected it to be no more than fucking, a way of
thanking Skinner for his rescue, a way of satisfying
his own curiosity about the man.
Maybe, a way of relegating Skinner into the category of
"client" rather than "jerk-off fantasy".
Instead he was the one being seduced.
And when his right spots were stroked or caressed, he
found that the noises he made were not faked, were
Which, when he would have time to think about it, would
But not here. Not now.
Now and here were for him. No outside involvement. No
need to report.
He put his thoughts on hold and became just sensation.
Skinner was surprised to find how hungry he was for
touch. How much he had missed it.
Sex with Sharon had not been plentiful towards the end.
He supposed, before, they had had relations within the
expected norm for a couple married as long as they had
been, considering the job he had.
And since the divorce, there had been a few more
encounters. One even with a man. But nothing seemed
to pan out. He'd taken to masturbation rather than
wake in a strange bed with a stranger who was going to
remain just that.
He remembered his pre-married days enough to recognize
a seduction scenario when it was presented to him.
Maybe he should have just left the apartment when he'd
seen the open doors, the scotch.
But he had been curious about Krycek. Not the Krycek
who had betrayed the FBI. Or the one who had beaten
him up in the stairwell. Not even the one he had
cuffed to the balcony railing that cold autumn night.
No, the one he had wanted to know more about was the
man who needed to be held to keep nightmares at bay.
Who had trusted him to do that. Who played chess with
delight, with his own weird strategies. Who enjoyed
the same jazz that he did. Who, in his own fashion,
paid his debts.
He watched that Krycek come to life under his hands,
his mouth and found it exceedingly erotic.
"Please. Fuck me." Krycek found it hard to put his
want into words, but right now he wanted Skinner in him
more than anything. Wanted to know if the sensation of
Skinner's cock up his ass would help put out the fire
in him, the craving that was almost painful.
Skinner reached into the bedside table for condoms and
lube, a left-over habit from his marriage.
He had trouble with the foil. It was hard to tear it
open at the best of times, and right now, he was too
busy tasting the difference in textures between
Krycek's thigh and the bush next to it.
Krycek took the foil away from him, tore it open with
his mouth. Eyes holding eyes, he sat up, expertly
gloved Skinner's rampant cock. Spread a thin layer of
lube on the latex. With some awkwardness, on his own
He lay back down, rolled over slightly, spread his legs
wider and lubed his own asshole, all the time holding
onto Skinner's eyes.
Skinner bent and took his mouth, tongues thrusting
against each other. When he moved his mouth back down,
Krycek arched his back, head tossed back, throat
Penetration was slow, not just because Skinner didn't
want to hurt his partner, but because by now, the
erotic flavour of slowness had permeated all their
Krycek pushed his ass down along Skinner's shaft as
Skinner pushed in.
All that Krycek wanted was centred in that shaft. He
gasped aloud at the pleasure it built in him. He
whimpered when he felt it withdrawing. Clenched his
ass around it, to keep it from leaving him.
Skinner grunted at the sensation. He wasn't far from
coming, but he wanted Krycek to come first. Wanted to
see if those eyes would darken further. If the surprise
he had already glimpsed now and then would appear yet
The knowledge that for Krycek some of this mating was
new to him only added to his own sense of satisfaction.
His hand gripped and released, stroked and caressed
Krycek's cock in the same slow rhythm of penetration.
When Krycek came, Skinner grimaced in pleasure at
hearing the scream that tore its way from the man's
tendoned throat. The sound threw him over the edge,
and soon his own loud grunts of completion filled the
They lay in a tangled heap, barely finding the energy
to breathe. Eventually Skinner went to move off
Krycek, worried his weight would be too heavy for the
smaller man. Krycek's hand came up to hold him back.
He whimpered a small complaint. So Skinner stayed
where he was, head resting on Krycek's collarbone,
Krycek's legs resting on the back of his thighs.
They stayed that way for a short while. Dozing.
Krycek woke to find his face being traced by a finger.
He turned his head slightly, almost afraid of opening
his eyes. Of what he might see in Skinner's. He
braced himself: best get it over with.
Skinner was aware of the tensing, not fully aware of
the reason for it. He smiled down at the serious eyes
watching him. Slowly bent to take a soft mouth with
Krycek pulled him down for a serious kiss. The
wariness in his eyes replaced by satiation.
They didn't speak, just slowly played mouths over
faces, arms wrapped around each other. Skinner yawned
first, pulled Krycek's head against his shoulder.
He was alone when he woke. Knew from the feel of the
place, alone in the apartment. He rolled over onto his
back, covered his eyes with an arm. Waited for his
disappointment to abate.
He might have felt better if he had known that Krycek
had left quickly because he was afraid to stay.
End of Part 2