Guilt Edged

by Dr Ruthless


This story is my response to a challenge. Why does Krycek behave as he does
at Tunguska. Why did he not run away when Mulder went under the wire? It's
not for the faint hearted. No schmoop here.

Spoilers:Duane Barry, Tunguska

Beta by Ori, who is now officially my Goddess and made me justify everything
I wrote, Rowanne who is up there too, and Frankie, who puts up with me
whining all the time.

Rated NC17 for bad things, including non-consensual male to male sex. This
is a rape story and you should not read it if this will offend you.

Feedback: Please...I'll grovel, I'll beg, I'll roll over and play dead...


*Oh, the smell of him!* Fox Mulder could not think straight. He was here,
staking out a warehouse, expecting any moment that the low-life inside would
come out with his guns blazing, and all he could think about was the smell
of the man lying next to him.

He smelled faintly of some spicy cologne with undertones of spearmint
chewing gum and a hint of tobacco. There was also the slight muskiness of
the man himself.... Mulder's head swam and he took a couple of deep breaths,
trying hard to get back on track. Alex Krycek, the man in question leaned
his head towards Mulder, and whispered in his ear, making Mulder jump out of
his skin.

"I think I saw something moving over that way." The junior agent gestured
briefly with his head in the direction of the side of the building. "Do you
want me to call for backup?"

Mulder rolled his eyes to heaven. "What, and have them all screeching up
with their sirens wailing? No thank you! I've put in altogether too much
time and energy to have it all go to hell now. We can do it if we just hang
tough." He turned his head towards Alex, and once more caught a whiff of the
intoxicating smell that had been preoccupying him. The temptation to roll
over and kiss his partner was immense. Mulder turned away again abruptly.
Krycek looked at him quizzically, but Mulder ignored him, once again
training the field glasses onto the area where Krycek had reported movement.

They had arrived here at this stakeout as a result of several weeks sifting
through strings of evidence. Krycek was a good, thorough and methodical
researcher, and had pursued the tiniest of leads, uncovering the path that
had led to this current situation. His attention to detail had impressed
Mulder, who at first had written off the youngster as a lightweight who
would hold him back. Mulder missed Scully, who was currently banished to
Quantico, where she was teaching students there about the esoteric effects
of bullets on flesh. He wanted the X-Files back. It nagged at his
consciousness like a broken tooth. He was however beginning to enjoy Krycek
as a partner, appreciating the young man's warped sense of humor. Every so
often, Krycek would come out with a dry witticism that was all the funnier
for the fact that he did not seem to care whether or not people got the
joke. So, Mulder was not too unhappy about having Alex along for the ride.
He wondered if he could possibly keep both Krycek and Scully. He was also
beginning to wonder more and more what it would be like to rip off the young
man's hideous suit, rumple his hideous hairstyle and jump his bones.

With a sigh, he peered through the glasses into the gloom, trying hard to
distinguish any movement within the shadows. The flickering of the shadows
from the trees around the perimeter of the lot seriously interfered with his
ability to see what was happening. Krycek suddenly nudged him again and with
a small movement of his finger, indicated a shadow, darker than the rest,
slowly creeping along the side wall.

The two of them were lying on a garage rooftop, some yards away from the
warehouse, and there was not a lot of space free from the junk that had been
piled high on it. This was all to the good as it made their vantagepoint
less conspicuous, but it meant that Alex was far too close for Mulder's
comfort. Mulder leaned to whisper to Krycek, feeling the other man's warmth
as they lay along side each other on their bellies.

"It looks as if their contact is on his way. Let him get in before we move."
Krycek nodded in acquiescence and exhaled sharply through his teeth. Mulder
put his hand up to reassure him.

"Let me go first. We should be able to take them both without too much
effort as long as we don't blow it on the way in. All you need to do is
follow my lead. If you cover me we'll be fine."

Again Krycek nodded, the hand on his shoulder gave him a final pat before
being withdrawn once more. The shadow silently worked its way around to the
front of the building as they observed it, and finally, with a minimum of
fuss, slipped into the building through the partially open door.

Mulder put a restraining hand on his partner's arm, and together they waited
for several minutes before quietly getting to their feet and dropping to the
ground behind the garage. Mulder, dressed like his partner in black,
adjusted his kevlar vest and put the field glasses down on the concrete
beside the garage they had been hiding on. He surveyed Alex as he climbed
noiselessly down from the roof, admiring his powerful shoulders and checking
out the tight buttocks and the strong legs in their well fitting black
jeans. He really needed to concentrate on the job in hand. He had no idea
what Alex did in his free time but had yet to see any signs that he returned
Mulder's interest in him. Alex jumped the last couple of feet from the top
of the wall, staggering a little as he landed, and Mulder automatically put
out a steadying hand. The other man was quick to recover, gently punching
Mulder in the shoulder as he nodded his thanks. Together, they began to
creep around to the doorway into which they had seen their prey vanish.

As the two men reached the entrance, they could hear low voices from within
the building itself. Straining to hear what was being said, Mulder
cautiously slid through the doorway, with Krycek on his heels. The voices
were louder now, and they made their way on cat-like feet towards the origin
of the sounds. As they came to the end of the short corridor, Mulder could
see that there were at least two men in the warehouse, and on the floor
there was a long shape. He gestured to Krycek who began to work his way
around the stacked boxes to come at them from the opposite side. The shape
on the floor moved, and Mulder heard a moan. This was definitely the place!
They had found the kidnap victim, and it was not too late...yet.

He inspected his watch, giving Alex the agreed time to get into position.
Peering through the gloom and debris, he could not make out where the other
agent had gone but knew he must be somewhere on the opposite side of the
warehouse. As his watch finally reached the appointed time, Mulder cocked
his gun and stepped forward into the flickering circle of light.

"Freeze! FBI!" The two men whirled as one to face him, and he finally made
out Krycek in the gloom behind them, moving in steadily to back him up. The
men he had surprised were wearing stocking masks, and as Mulder gestured
with his gun, they raised their hands. It came as a complete surprise to him
when something struck him on the back of the head, and his lights went out.


"Mulder!" He heard the voice down a very long tunnel. "Mulder, come on man!"

His head hurt, and he could smell burning. He wasn't sure where he was, but
he wouldn't be coming back here for his holiday, that was certain. He tried
opening his eyes, but there seemed to be a lot of smoke all of a sudden, and
it stung his eyes, making them smart.

"Mulder! Come on, I need you to help me." This time the voice got through.
He opened his eyes and tried to roll over into a sitting position. He
couldn't. Something was stopping him. He was aware of a heavy weight across
his hips. Lifting his head he peered around, looking for Alex. The other man
was frantically lifting pieces of debris, trying to free up whatever had
dropped on him. A red glow indicated that there was fire somewhere close by,
and he suddenly became aware of the danger he was in.

Alex had seen he was conscious and quickly made his way over to him.

"Mulder, this building is going to be a mass of flames in about two minutes
time. I've got to get you out of here. Help me if you can." He positioned
himself beside the beam that lay across Mulder's back and grunted out, "When
I give the word, give it everything you've got. It's your only chance."

As Alex gave the signal, Mulder heaved himself upwards, and as Alex lifted,
the beam shifted a tiny bit. Scrambling forward, Mulder managed to get out
of the way as the whole lot dropped out of Alex's hands and crashed back
down where Mulder's back had been scant seconds before.

"Come on!" Alex was shoving him madly as he stumbled towards the exit.
"We're gonna fry if you don't hurry!"

Mulder, who did not like fire at the best of times, choked back the feeling
of sickness as he pushed for the doorway. Alex grabbed him, and with his arm
supporting him, the two of them staggered out into the night. As they
reached the perimeter, Mulder sank to the ground and Alex threw himself on
his knees next to him.

"Where are they?" Mulder croaked as he lay on the cement. Reaction was
setting in, and his legs were feeling strangely numb. Behind them, there was
a crash, and then a roar as the roof of the warehouse collapsed, and the
flames burst free to complete their work of destruction.

Alex gestured to the fence beside him, "I got the girl out first, then came
back for you." Mulder could make out the still blanketed figure now. It was
squirming, and he could hear soft grunts.

"What about the low-life scum who abducted her?" Mulder could feel reality
surging and fading as he spoke, but he had to know.

"Umm. They're dead. I shot them." Krycek looked sheepish as he confessed.
"There really wasn't time to do anything else. The other man came up behind
you. He must have followed us in, and when I saw him cold cock you, I
figured it was time to do something fast. I hit them, but the guy behind you
had some kind of flare gun, and he fired the whole building. I don't think
my shots actually killed them, but they are still in there, so my guess is,
they're dead..."

Mulder heard the confession, but as he did so, his attention fluttered and
faded. He lost consciousness. He did not hear Alex calling for assistance,
relaying that there was an agent down. He was not awake to see the ambulance
arrive and take the rescued hostage and Mulder himself off to the hospital.
The darkness into which he fell was warm and painless. Mulder sank and was


Several weeks had gone by since the ill-fated stakeout that had seen Mulder
and Krycek rescuing the missing heiress. Mulder had needed extensive surgery
to his back and was now recuperating. He hated physical therapy. Working his
weakened legs following the surgery was painful and reminded him that he had
been fit a few short weeks before. He wanted to go running and resented the
debilitated state in which he found himself. Scully had been several times
to visit him while he was still in the hospital, but Mulder had not seen her
since his discharge earlier on in the week. Of Alex, he had seen nothing at
all, and he wondered where his new partner had gone. There was a knock on
his door, and he rolled to his feet from where he had been lying, took the
weights off his ankles and limped to check who was there.

He opened the door on Alex, who was standing holding a carrier bag, looking

"Hi! I heard you were home at last. I just dropped by to see how you were
feeling and to bring you this." Alex thrust the bag at Mulder, who took it

"Ummm..thanks! Won't you come in? I was just doing my torture.... I mean my
physical therapy exercises. I'd be really glad of an opportunity to stop."
He stood aside to allow the younger man to enter the apartment. Alex was
dressed casually for once, wearing slacks and a white turtle neck sweater
under a dark V-neck. Mulder surveyed him, mentally shuddering. He wished he
could dress his junior partner. He would make him look so good. He thought
back to the night of the stakeout. Alex had been in jeans and a plain dark
sweater that night and had looked very good. Jeans suited him. The cut
showed off his tight ass and long legs. Mulder wondered how he could broach
the subject of his dress sense to him without hurting his feelings.

He opened his gift, which proved to be a bottle of rum and a bottle of coke,
and went into the kitchen looking for glasses and ice. When he came back,
Krycek was sitting on the couch, reading through the physical therapy
program he had been given on his discharge from the hospital Handing Krycek
a glass, and taking a swig of his own drink, he sat down opposite his

"I never had the chance to say thank you for saving my life, Krycek. Thanks.
I probably would have fried if it hadn't been for you." Mulder raised his
glass to Alex, who actually blushed at his words.

"Listen, Mulder, it was nothing. I did what you would have done for me,
that's all." He shifted uneasily in his seat, obviously feeling
uncomfortable about the topic. "The forensics team confirmed that the
kidnappers died in the fire. They are still investigating the reason why the
whole warehouse went up in flames so quickly. There's some mystery there,
but it's out of my hands now until their investigation is completed." Alex
leaned forward, speaking earnestly, and his expression was intense.

"Have they given you anything that might lead you to believe they were
holding her for passing on to a UFO?" Mulder frowned. Alex looked completely
baffled at his question. "Do you think she's an alien abductee, Mulder?
Those perps we saw in the warehouse were as human as you or I. I didn't see
any signs of extra-terrestrial involvement while I was in the place. What
makes you think...." He tailed off as Mulder rose from his seat to limp up
and down in an agitated manner.

"Krycek, listen to me, the place she was being held was leaked to me by my
source, the only source I have ever trusted. Furthermore the kidnappers
names were on a document that I found where he told me it would be. Their
names were among those included on a list of infiltrators and saboteurs who
are colluding with a plot to supply subjects for experimentation." Mulder
repeatedly jabbed his finger at Krycek as he spoke, and the other man sat
back, well out of Mulder's way as he listened to him expound.

"Mulder, sometimes the simplest explanation is the real one, you know? What
did Freud say? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar! Well, sometimes, a
kidnapping is just a ransom demand." Krycek smiled up at the pacing man.
Mulder stopped short and looked at his visitor.

"Do you know, Krycek, that's probably the dumbest thing you've ever said to
me?" Alex's grin widened, and he took a pull at his drink

"Hey, I come over to cheer you up, and all I get is abuse. Aliens aren't to
blame for the kidnapping of that girl, real, flesh and blood type men are. I
saw them, none of them were little or green." He put down his empty glass
and leaned back into the couch, stretching out his long legs in front of him
and hooking his thumbs into his pockets as he did so. Mulder was torn
between getting into an argument with Alex about his views on alien
abduction, or attempting to get him to re-vamp his wardrobe. He surveyed the
elegant lines of the other man's body and put aside thoughts of alien
invasion, focusing instead on trying to determine whether or not he would
welcome Mulder's advances.

Krycek's eager-puppy expression faltered under the close scrutiny from his

"What?" He was still smiling, but a little uncertainly. "Do I have spinach
on my teeth? Is my zipper undone? What?" He shifted uneasily, and Mulder,
feeling slightly foolish, turned away, collecting his glass for a refill.

"Nothing, Krycek! I was just wondering if you'd want to watch a movie or
something." *and by the way, I want to tear off your clothes and dress you
in something that clings to your butt* Alex took the offered drink, and the
grin returned to his features.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Did you want me to go over your exercises with you? I
know they can be really daunting when you have to do them alone. Here, come
on!" He flung himself to the floor and began to go through the program of
leg raises and back strengthening exercises Mulder had been given at the
hospital. After a minute or two of watching him, Mulder shrugged his
shoulders and joined him on the floor.

"I work out five times a week. I'm trying to get my body fat ratio down,
it's a little high, but hey, I like to eat too." Krycek prattled on,
seemingly unconscious of the way that Mulder was looking at him. Mulder, who
now more than ever wanted to see his partner in well fitting clothes, or
even better, no clothes at all, was trying to think of a way to tell him he
was going to spend the night.

"Better get the aerobic content of your exercise program up a little."
Mulder volunteered. *Shit! Where did that come from? What a dumb thing to
say!* "I mean, You look fine to me...why do you think you have too much

"No, Mulder, you misunderstand me. If I'm going to go in for competitions as
a body builder, I need to get the body fat percentage down. I'm not implying
that I'm overweight or anything." Krycek beamed at Mulder and continued to
do the crunches that were supposed to be strengthening up Mulder's

"Krycek, are you seriously telling me that you're a competition body
builder? You don't look to have the bulk for it. Of course I've only seen
you in your suits and stuff, and they're loose fitting, but I'd have said
you were far too slim." *Bingo!* Mulder gazed at Krycek and now had a
legitimate reason for doing so. The shapeless clothes he was dressed in
didn't give much of a clue to what kind of body Alex might have. Mulder
hoped he was going too be able to check him out in more depth. As he spoke,
Alex, whose grin had widened considerably during this speech, sat up and
removed his sweater in one fluid movement.

He was very nicely built, but to Mulder's untutored eye, not a muscle bound
super-stud. Mulder took a deep breath and put out his hand to stroke
Krycek's chest. There was a moment's stunned surprise, and then Alex jerked
backwards, revulsion on his face.

"What the fuck are you doing, Mulder? Are you coming on to me?" Alex was
putting on his sweater as he spoke. His voice was cold.

"UmmI thought" Mulder wasn't quite sure what to say. It seemed as if he
had made a mistake. Alex hadn't been egging him on with his little display
after all. How wrong could he be? He thought for a minute, maybe things
weren't totally unsalvageable.

"Krycek, I don't quite know how to phrase things. We're just beginning to
get to know each other. I figure we could go one of two ways. We can have a
purely business relationship, or we can think about, you know, maybe doing
stuff together. I mean, not for sure, but we could leave the possibility
open since you don't appear to be involved with anyone right about now, you
know what I mean?" Mulder, aware that he was babbling, got to his knees
preparing to stand up. Alex looked at him, his expression unreadable.

"No, I don't think I understood the last sentence at was too
complicated." Listening to Alex, Mulder was not sure at this point whether
he was being made fun of, but he continued.

"I'm saying that I was tempted to come on to you a little bit." He attempted
a smile but found that smiling was next to impossible with his dry mouth. He
gave up, contenting himself with a sickly grimace.

"A little bit tempted, or a little bit come on?" Krycek was beginning to
worry him. His husky voice was flat, and Mulder, so good at reading the body
language of others, could get no sense of where he stood from Alex.

"A lot tempted to come on a little bit." The words sounded lame, even to
him, but he was locked into this conversation now and didn't know how to get
out of it.

"OK, I'm with you." Krycek appeared to be giving it some thought.

"But if there's no point, I'll forget it. Give up. On the other hand if
there is a point, I'll continue to be tolerant and charming and liberal and
shit, in my own special, casual way." Mulder stood and faced Krycek. Again
he tried a smile, with a little more success this time. He wished he could
get an inkling of what the other man was thinking about.

"So, is there a point or...." Mulder flinched backwards as the punch caught
him and knocked him sideways. He tripped over the coffee table, measuring
his length on the floor. Alex stood, hair tousled, indignation showing in
every line of his posture.

"How dare you? I came over to try and cheer you up, and you start to feel me
up as if I was some kind of...of slut! You're sick, Mulder, totally sick. I
don't need it, and I don't need you!"

He turned on his heel and left the apartment. Mulder lay looking after him,
all the things he had intended to say still bubbling on his lips.

"Shit!" He had blown it. He had been clumsy, and now the chance was lost. He
wouldn't get the opportunity again to win Alex over. Feeling his tender jaw,
he rolled over and climbed laboriously to his feet. Picking up the leg
weights, he prepared to resume his interrupted exercises.


Two weeks later, Mulder was doing lengths in the large pool at Quantico, his
powerful shoulders and arms churning the water, his legs, much stronger now,
propelling him along the pool. Suddenly the door opened, and a familiar
figure came rushing in carrying a file.

"Agent Mulder!" The familiar voice broke through Mulder's concentration, and
he smoothly worked his way to the ladder, pulling himself up to emerge
beside the waiting junior agent. Krycek eyed him uneasily but then began
telling him about the situation that he had been ordered to bring to him.
The dice were tumbling now, and the pieces were all falling into place. The
events that would transpire from this moment would ensure that Mulder and
Krycek would never again be able to co-exist peacefully.


Time passed by. Krycek became a memory for Mulder. He occasionally popped
into Mulder's thoughts as a memory of something he had wanted and lost.
Mulder learned not to think of him.


The sound of trucks pulling in broke into his reverie. There was suddenly a
large number of people yelling, guns firing and general disorder confusing
the quiet night. Rapidly, the group they had ambushed was rounded up and
taken away. Mulder noticed another truck and ran to intercept it, followed
by Scully who was apparently having the time of her life.

"Get out of the truck." The truck came to a standstill. Eventually the door
opened, and a shadowy figure emerged. Mulder knew instantly who it was,
purely from the smell of him. He was suddenly back on a garage rooftop,
staking out a warehouse, with this man by his side. The man crouched at his
feet was trying to remain unrecognizable, his head lowered, hat pulled
firmly down over his face. He needn't have bothered. Mulder's stomach
lurched, and he felt the waves of irrational anger rising as he gazed at the
apparently submissive Krycek. He could smell that scent, the one he had
first been drawn to. It was not just cologne, though there were spicy traces
of that. He detected a hint of tobacco, a touch of mint, and the musky,
clean animal smell of the man himself, all mixed in. It made him reel
momentarily, while lust, peeled, diced and recycled as fury, surged through

"Krycek!" He raised his fist....


They had caught a plane, then another. Mulder and Krycek, jaunting across
continents together, Mulder belligerent, Krycek challenging from time to
time, but somehow only paying lip service to the struggle between the two of
them. Mulder looked at his nemesis, taking in the apparent exhaustion that
flowed from him in waves. Wherever his life had taken this man, the journey
had not been easy or pleasant. He was sleeping now, crammed between Mulder
and the window, head lolling back and mouth open, green eyes veiled by
translucent lids, thickly fringed with spiky lashes. Mulder saw new
gauntness in his face. The hair was cropped brutally short and revealed the
pleasing lines of the other man's head, the high cheekbones, the shapely
skull and the determined, mutinous jawline. He was clad in utilitarian
denim, jeans worn and frayed in places, clinging to his thighs, shirt open
at the neck, revealing his bared throat as he slept. His leather jacket was
rolled up and stowed in the overhead compartment, but Mulder added it
mentally to the inventory along with the high-tops of plain black that he
wore on his feet. Krycek's body had filled out a little in the time since he
and Mulder had been partners. There was new depth to his chest and
shoulders, and nothing left of the child-like young man Mulder had known.
This Alex had lines of strain on his face, new creases at the corner of his
eyes, and there were purpling bruises at cheek and chin, bruises that Mulder
had put there. Mulder knew that there would be others too, although those
were hidden under the denim. Inhaling the scent of him, Mulder felt a fresh
wave of need overtake him. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the tight fullness
in his groin, and lay back himself, trying to catch a little sleep.

Sleep, when it came, was not restful. In his dream he pursued Krycek through
trees and mud, never quite catching him, wanting him, while the other man
occasionally turned to mock him, constantly eluding him by a hairsbreadth.
The dream Mulder called for Alex, and the other man's response was to wait,
then turn and spit as Mulder drew close. Standing stunned, spittle running
down his cheek, Mulder knew a white blaze of fury. His dream deteriorated
into a muddle of blows, screams and sobs of anguish as he caught his elusive
tormentor and beat him, beat him bloody, smashed him senseless, drove first
his fists, and then his penis into him again and again, the one release
giving way seamlessly to the other. The hated face cleansed of its mocking
expression by naked violence, he bit, kissed and bit again, sobbing as he
tore at Krycek, who remained aloof, face calm and bloodied throughout.

When he came, thrusting mindlessly into a hot, dark, dream-Krycek that gazed
past him like an alabaster saint and did not blame him, he woke up. Krycek,
whose head had somehow come to rest on his shoulder, was in the act of
struggling towards wakefulness. Mulder had called his name, and he was
returning from his own dark corridor of dreamland to face his abuser. Mulder
angrily shoved his captive's head off him, feeling with growing irritation
the sticky interior of his jeans, the memory of his orgasm shaming him. He
knew that he had somehow been marked by Krycek but didn't understand how.
Refusing to meet Krycek's eyes, he stumbled off to the safety and solitude
of the toilet cubicle, there to clean himself up as much as he could, bury
his face in his hands, and sob.


They had arrived at Frankfurt airport in the early afternoon of a wintry
day. They were both tired and enervated. Krycek was edgy and sarcastic,
while Mulder glowered sullenly in an almost classic role reversal from their
usual interactions. Krycek prowled along in front of Mulder, his loose, easy
gait and unconscious sensuality affecting Mulder like so many hornets
crawling on his skin. Krycek, aware in some way that he held the upper hand,
continually needled Mulder, who reacted with very rewarding snarls and

Their onward flight into Russia was due to leave early the following day,
and they were both jet-lagged and irritable. Leaving the airport with the
keys to a rental car in his hand, Mulder yanked Krycek along by his
handcuffs, taking savage pleasure in the bruising of the other man's wrists
as he did so. When Krycek maliciously inquired whether he'd like to put a
collar and leash on him, Mulder merely growled and yanked all the harder.

They checked into a small hotel on the edge of Frankfurt and made their way
to the room that had been allocated to them. Mulder called Scully, who was
overtly calm on the phone but who sent vibes of serious anxiety down the
line, making Mulder's already queasy stomach roil. He had released the cuff
from his own hand, passing it around the heating pipes that ran along the
skirting board to feed the radiator and snapping it onto Krycek's other
hand. The man himself lay patiently waiting for whatever might next befall

"Mulder, I'd like something to eat and drink please. A visit to the bathroom
might be nice too." Mulder apparently didn't hear him and continued to sit
on the bed, staring vacantly at his hands. "Mulder, I'm talking to you."
Mulder turned towards Krycek very slowly, his face a mask, his eyes
glittering strangely. Alex suddenly realized that there was something very
wrong, and scooted up to sit with his back to the wall, as far into the
corner of the room as he could go with the handcuffs on him.

"OK, Mulder, that's OK. You can go back to sleep, I'm fine, really I am." A
smile distorted Mulder's features. It was not a pleasant smile. Krycek
swallowed nervously. Mulder leaned forward to grab the other man's short
hair on the top of his head. Yanking his head up by the hair, he slowly
brought his face down to kiss Krycek.

Krycek winced and attempted to avoid the kiss, shaking his head and turning
his face away. Mulder, who had his fingers buried in the man's hair, yanked
hard, pulling the captive's face towards him and causing him to gasp. There
was nowhere to go. The kiss landed, hard and brutal, on Alex's mouth. Mulder
had his hands on Krycek's head, his thumbs digging into Krycek's jaw
painfully, forcing his mouth open. Krycek shook his head again, trying to
shake Mulder free, but could not dislodge his attacker. He finally gave in,
his head trapped in Mulder's hands, pressed tight against the wall, Mulder's
tongue pushed into his mouth, darting everywhere, and waited patiently for
it to end.

Mulder was panting. His kiss gave him a taste of the man he had craved for
so long, and as he finally drew away, just one kind word would have ended
things right there and then. Mulder would have been recalled to reason and
left Alex be, merely adding fuel to the guilt he already carried everywhere.
Alex however, did not know or did not care. As Mulder pulled back, releasing
his jaw, and freeing his mouth at last, Alex spat, hard and accurately, the
moisture hitting Mulder on the cheek, mirroring his dream. Then he spoke:

"You fucking fairy."

It seemed for a moment as if the room darkened. The wetness on Mulder's
cheek seared like acid, and the words echoed like cannon shots,
reverberating inside Mulder's mind, blasting through reason, laying bare the
savage he carried within him.

Krycek suddenly realized that he had miscalculated. He turned pale and
huddled closer to the wall, unable to move because of the chain that held
him to the sturdy steel pipes. Mulder, who, without analyzing it, knew that
he had at last frightened the man on the floor, noted his slight flinch.
Deliberately, he raised his hand, slapping Krycek's face. The other man
glared back at him, eyes as hard as glass, and Mulder slapped him again. His
skull rocked back and smacked the wall, and he grunted giving that arrogant,
quick sideways toss of the head that was purely Krycek. This assertion of
his individuality in the face of all that Mulder was submitting him to was
what finally tipped Mulder over the edge, out of reason and into bare,
blind, vicious insanity. Grabbing the chained man by the throat, Mulder
began to choke him. Green eyes glazed, and eyelids fluttered and fell, as
Mulder crouched over his victim. As Alex lost consciousness, Mulder caught
his head again and kissed him, biting his lips, invading his mouth with
thrusting tongue, allowing the taste of Krycek to flow through him like
strong drink.

Laying him down on the floor, he unlocked the cuffs, refastening them so
that Krycek now lay with his arms stretched above his head, the cuffs looped
around the solid angle-iron of the heavy bed frame. His fingers trembling
now, he began to unfasten Krycek's shirt, then the jeans, yanking them down
his legs. Krycek now lay naked but for his shirt, which was open and folded
back to reveal the strong lines of his torso, nipples rosy in the lamplight,
a light dusting of freckles across his chest and shoulders, and slabs of
muscle covered with smooth white skin. Beneath the indentation of his navel
a scattering of soft, dark hairs thickened up as they began to cluster
around his genitals. His penis lay quietly, wrapped in its foreskin, and
beneath it lay the two balls, nestling like eggs in a nest. Mulder felt his
own penis lurch. His breath was harsh and his head swam. Uttering a groan,
he threw himself down to bury his face in Krycek's groin, licking and
biting, inhaling the scent of the man, the scent that had obsessed him for
all this time.

He stood up and methodically stripped himself, carefully watching Krycek for
any signs of returning consciousness. As he threw his shirt into a corner,
the other man gave a moan, and his head turned slightly, rolling on the
floor. Mulder's whole body thrilled, and he quickly lay down beside his
captive, throwing a leg across his hips, and pressing himself into Krycek
along his entire length, feeling the pressure of silky skin on his penis
which was now hard, tight and straining. He bent his head to lick at a
nipple, and then looked up to see Krycek watching, his teeth bared in an
almost-smile. He made that head movement again, and now Mulder was mad. He
bit the nipple he had been tonguing, surprising a short yelp out of Alex. He
laughed sharply at that, and Alex moaned again.

"What's the matter Krycek? I sometimes wonder if you're real or if you're
only my imagination and someone's fucking with my head. You could have
had..." Mulder's voice faltered, and he choked, then bent to kiss Krycek's
throat again, sucking and biting, leaving a trail of love-bites that blazed
red against the whiteness of his skin. His hand had been working roughly at
Krycek's cock, and as he pulled and tugged at it, it began to stir,
thickening in Mulder's hand, the tip growing and emerging from the foreskin.
Mulder bent his head down to study it, and Alex closed his eyes again,
saying nothing.

"Hmmm..Not Jewish I see! Maybe we should change that. Let me see, where's
that knife I took off you yesterday?" Alex's eyes flew open, and the flash
of horror, quickly masked rewarded Mulder, that he read in the green eyes.
He laughed without humor, recognizing that he was close to breaking through
the other man's icy calm. He bent to chew on a nipple, a reddened spot
appearing when he withdrew his mouth. Alex made a sound that was almost, but
not quite, a cry for help. Turning his head Mulder dropped his mouth to
Alex's groin, and as Alex, who was now beginning to panic, writhed and
kicked, his tormenter closed his lips around the erect cock, engulfing it in
the heat of his mouth and sucking it deep into his throat. Alex bucked his
hips once in an attempt to dislodge Mulder, but the other agent clamped
teeth harshly around the base of Alex's cock, and he subsided. His breath
was ragged. He closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing, while his
traitor cock thrilled and leapt and throbbed and finally spat thick white
juices into Mulder's moist, wet mouth. Alex began to curse steadily in a low

Mulder had withdrawn from Alex's cock after he had come, and was now
fumbling for the knife he had removed from Alex the previous day. Examining
it minutely, he tested the blade, easily slicing a button from Alex's shirt.
He then proceeded to trail the point down from Alex's throat to his nipple,
pausing to prick delicately at it, watching the dark blood well up around
the small cut. The knife wandered over to his armpit, where once again the
point drew blood. Mulder bent to taste it, and Alex trembled.

"You taste good, Krycek, want some?" He bent to the abused nipple, sucking
and then covering Alex's mouth with his own, allowing blood to pass from his
tongue to Krycek's, deepening the kiss, while pressing the knife into
Krycek's armpit. The kiss was hard, but Mulder felt the tiniest response
from his prisoner. He pulled back and examined Krycek with great interest,
trying to determine what had just happened. Alex tasted his own blood and
semen and knew he had to do something if he was going to get out of this
situation alive.

"Mulder!" His voice when it came startled Mulder. "Mulder, do you want to
deal?" Alex was desperate, his calm gone, his pupils dilated and his chest
heaving. There was blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, and the
purple bruises that stained his skin made him look very vulnerable.

Mulder stared down at the man below him, trying to decide what he might
mean. "Krycek, I'd be prepared to believe that you don't have a single chip
to bargain with at this point." The words were vicious, and the smile that
accompanied them was feral.

"You're wrong, Mulder." The husky voice was strained, fraying at the edges,
as if Krycek had spent the night out on the tiles, as if he had smoked one
cigarette too many. Mulder's cock leapt, and he returned his hand to the
other man's, squeezing and pinching it, then sneaking it down to fondle his
balls, before creeping down between his legs, to seek out his anus, circling
around it, then plunging a finger into it. There was a gasp, then Krycek
spoke quickly, words tumbling out over each other.

"Mulder, what if I let you do this? What if I gave you what you want?" His
eyes were desperate.

"You know what, Krycek? I don't see how you could possibly stop me from
taking it." Mulder accented his message with the point of Krycek's knife,
tracing a line down the flat stomach, small pinpoints of blood springing up
to show its path as it descended towards his crotch.

"M-Mulder, what if I responded, didn't fight? What if I made love to you
instead?" Mulder thought for a minute.

"What would you want from me, Krycek?" His eyes narrowed. He wanted this,
God, how he wanted it, but he couldn't see how it was possible. He had not
forgotten that this man under his knife was a liar, a traitor, and a
murderer with no conscience. He reflected that they were now two of a kind
and that if the tables ever turned, he would be in great trouble. He wanted
Krycek. His head reeled, imagining Krycek kissing him back, imagining the
clever mouth tracing over his chest, slipping down to suck on his aching

"Let me go. I just want you to let me go. I'll do whatever you want if you
promise to turn me loose after you're done." The panic in Krycek's voice
seemed genuine. He had broken out in a sweat, and his skin shone white
against the livid bruises Mulder had inflicted. Mulder tilted his head,

"Krycek, I need you with me for this. You speak Russian, and I don't. I need
you to get to where we're going, but I'll promise you this. You will stay
with me for the next 48 hours. At the end of that time I will stand back and
let you walk away. If that's a deal, then we're in business. If not, then
tough, you lose, and I'll take you back to Skinner and then justice."

Wordlessly Krycek nodded, then closed his eyes and sank back onto the floor.
Mulder lay along him, gazing at him, drinking in the sight of this man he
had wanted for years, and whom he had come very close to killing minutes
earlier. After a minute, Alex appeared to make up his mind. Opening his
eyes, he fixed Mulder with a penetrating gaze.

"It can't be done," he said, flatly. "You wouldn't keep your end of the

"Don't judge everyone by your own standards, Krycek!" Mulder felt his anger
rising again. Krycek sneered, and the red haze returned to obscure Mulder's
vision once more.

Mulder gripped Krycek by the throat again. The captive flinched, and then
cried out in despair as his head was forced back against the floor. Mulder
moved his head down and carefully placed his lips onto Krycek's once more.
Krycek was making a soft sound in the back of his throat, as he attempted to
keep his airway open. He struggled as he felt consciousness beginning to
fade, and Mulder increased the pressure, until finally, Alex blacked out
once more. Checking around the room for something he could use as
lubrication, he could find nothing other than his own saliva. He shrugged.
It would be just one more bruise for Krycek. Hardly noticeable amongst all
the others he had.

Pulling Krycek's legs upwards and forcing them apart, Mulder wet the tip of
his penis, and prepared to push it home. Alex lay with his head lolling
loosely to one side. His mouth was open, and blood ran from the corner,
drooling down to run onto the floor. His chest was a mass of cuts and
contusions, and his belly bore the marks of punches as well as the knife
tracks he had made previously. He had old scars too, a hole, now healed,
marked where a bullet had hit his shoulder. Another ragged white line
crossed his belly from just under his heart down to his groin. His eyelids,
dark lashes fringing them, fluttered as he began to regain consciousness.
Mulder pushed his cock home into Alex, feeling the heat of him as he got
inside, feeling the tight sphincter muscle suddenly give way as warm, wet
blood allowed him to slide right to the hilt inside him.

Mulder paused, trembling, for a moment. He felt the sparkling, pulsing
tingle begin in his balls and knew that it would not take more than a minute
to carry him over the edge and into ecstasy.

He waited, trying not to move, trying to let his excitement subside just a
little. Alex moaned, and Mulder felt his belly quicken. Losing control, he
plunged into Alex, and after a half a dozen thrusts, fell forward,
loose-lipped and helpless, as the biggest orgasm he had ever had robbed him
of breath, muscle tone and coherent thought.

Lying on top of Alex, he panted, and slowly became aware that the other man
had opened his eyes. Mulder lifted his head for a moment and gazed into
those eyes. The pupils now were so dark that there was no trace of color
left in the surrounding iris. He appeared to be in shock, and his heart was
pounding. His skin had a yellowish cast, with violet circles beneath his
eyes. Mulder felt an unpleasant thrill swoop through the pit of his stomach.
What had he done? What could he do now? Where would he be able to hide from
his own accusing thoughts?

Mulder withdrew himself and fumbled with toilet paper, cleaning himself and
Alex as best he could, and watched as Alex's eyes rolled upwards in his

Mulder lay looking at him for a few minutes more, and then wearily got to
his feet, all passion spent. He could not imagine what had possessed him for
the past hour or so. He had to get out of that room. Grabbing his clothes,
he dressed quickly and hurled himself through the door and into the


An hour later when Mulder returned, Alex had recovered consciousness. He
looked ill. His lips were dry and cracked, and Mulder, feeling guilty, knelt
to support his head and give him a little water. Alex was still very pale,
and he was bleeding from several places. Mulder unlocked the cuffs, allowing
him to bring his arms down to his side, and Alex gave a cry of pain as
sensation began to return to them. Wadding up the toilet paper, the kneeling
man dampened it and sponged down the suffering man's face. Then he rose and
went to the bathroom in search of more water for him. Returning with a glass
he knelt beside the other man, taking the bruised hands in his. Mulder
chafed his wrists for a moment and then held him tight as he cried out

"Are you going to kill me? Why don't you get it over with?" His eyes were
dull, and his voice was flat. He shivered, and Mulder pulled his shirt
around him.

"Kill you? No, Krycek, I'm not going to kill you." Mulder's expression was
almost tender. "I'm going to clean you up, and then I'm going to feed you.
Why do you think I'm going to kill you?"

"Because you hurt me. You've hated me since I was with the X-Files. Now
you've got the chance. Why wouldn't you kill me? I'd have killed you." Alex
closed his eyes again, and lay quietly in Mulder's lap. Somehow, this
child-like speech of Alex's brought home anew the enormity of what he had
just done. Mulder quailed. He knew that he had done something terrible. He
als knew it was Alex's fault, but he couldn't work out how to explain that
to the creature lying pathetically in his lap.

"Alex, I never hated you. I loved you, but then you betrayed me, and I've
never been able to forgive you for that. You talk about what I've done to
you, but what about the things you've done to me? You killed my father, gave
Scully to those butchers, you killed Melissa and you seem to be in the
center of anything that plays with my chances of getting to the bottom of
this damned conspiracy. I just can't come to terms with the fact that one
man could wish me so much harm. I still want to know why? Why did you do
what you've done? Was it just because I made that pass at you?" Mulder was
calm now, speaking in his quiet, flat voice. As he finished his voice
cracked and broke. Alex looked up at him and noted the unshed tears in his
eyes. He remained quiet for a few more minutes. Then taking in a shuddering
breath he began to talk.

"Mulder! You of all people should know that it's not as easy as that. I did
my job. You've got me wrong on a lot of it, but I can't explain it even now.
It's not my secret. All I'm saying is think about things. Think about why I
would be feeding you information the way that I have been doing. Ask
yourself how you know I killed your father. While you're at it, ask yourself
what would have happened to you if you'd gotten up the mountain in time to
be there when Scully was taken. If you can think of answers to these
questions, ask yourself what made you behave the way you just did to me. Is
that how you usually treat your enemies? Do you rape all your sources? Why
did you do it this time, Mulder?" Mulder closed his eyes and threw his head
back. His mind was still reeling with the enormity of what he had done. He
knew it was Krycek's fault, but he couldn't say why. He took a breath and
decided to go on as if nothing bad had happened. Krycek still lay in his
lap, and his breathing was calmer now.

"Alex, it's done now. You've done what you had to do, and so have I. If you
still mean to give me your word that you'll work with me for the next 48
hours, do what I want you to do, I'll let you go after that." Mulder's voice
was hoarse. He held his breath waiting for the answer.

"Deal, Mulder! I suppose I can be your whore for a couple more days. There's
nothing that can happen to me now that would hurt me any worse." He put his
hand up and took hold of Mulder's, shaking it awkwardly. Mulder sighed, and
wordlessly helped the other agent to his feet. Krycek swayed a little, and
Mulder kept his arm around him, steadying him. Then, the two of them made
for the bathroom.


They made their way into the "Gasthaus" and sat down. Alex appeared to be
much better for a bath and some painkillers, but he winced when he sat down
on the bench. Mulder waved at the waitress, and when she came across,
inquired if she spoke English. She shook her head blankly, and Alex
addressed her in flawless German. Mulder gazed with interest as the two of
them jabbered away for a good couple of minutes, then as the waitress smiled
and left turned to Alex.

"What was all that about, Krycek? You trying to make new friends or what?"
Mulder followed the waitress with his eyes as she went off, swinging her
hips and casting glances back at Alex.

"I ordered for us. That's all. We're gonna have Zigeuner Schnitzel. Also, I
told her to bring us some beer. Pils they call it. It's really good. I
thought we could have a couple to get our digestion going." He stared
blandly at Mulder and inwardly Mulder quailed. He had not been able to get
past this calm, bland persona Krycek had adopted since the events earlier in
the afternoon, and his heart wept for the loss of any real responses from
the man he had abused so badly. Alex had told him he could be a whore for
him, and that seemed to be just what he was getting.

The beers arrived, the waitress marking them off on a cardboard mat and
wandering off after patting Alex on the head and saying something in German
that made Alex laugh uproariously.

Dinner followed. Both men had now been without sleep for a long time, and
Alex had not eaten in two days. They fell to and demolished their food very
rapidly. The beers kept arriving, and Mulder was soon feeling a little worse
for wear. Alex had been very sparing in his intake and was content just to
watch his companion become drunk, reasoning that if he were addled enough,
he would not be attacking him or wanting sex in the immediate future. He
really needed time to heal, and this would help a little. He was beginning
to get a fever. Spending the night on Skinner's balcony in freezing
conditions had not helped. He had not slept at all. Then Mulder had dragged
him here to this day of Hell. He needed sleep. He needed it really badly,
but he couldn't get out of his mind what had happened to him this afternoon.
He had come in Mulder's mouth. He hadn't wanted to enjoy it, but it had been
perversely wonderful. He had not been able to will away the incredible
sensations Mulder's mouth had produced, and he had come. He needed somehow
to erase that moment. The waitress was now sitting in the seat beside Alex,
making coy jokes about "Big Americans" and licking her lips rather a lot.
Mulder was watching, but his eyes had reached the stage where they didn't
track together any more. Alex decided it was time to make his move.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back." He stood carefully and lazily
sauntered off in the direction of the rear of the restaurant. Fox watched
him turn the corner, then he laid his head down on his arms and closed his
eyes. The waitress stood up and dusted her skirt down. Alex prowled out of
the bar towards the back of the Gasthaus, in search of the gents. He paused
at the door, to glance back into the bar at Mulder, who appeared to be
snoozing with his head on his arms. His waitress was not immediately
apparent. Alex stood watching Mulder for a moment, his face inscrutable and
then turned back down the passageway. He pushed into the bathroom and
gratefully unloaded his glass of beer. Washing his hands, he caught sight of
his own face in the mirror. He had dark circles under his eyes, and Alex
studied himself intently, looking for the sign on his back that he felt sure
must be there alerting everyone to the fact that he was a weakling, a
sucker, a victim. His body still hurt, but he was beginning to think that he
would live. He wasn't sure that this was the option that he wanted. The
shifting sands of his self esteem had buried his desire to go on. As of
right now he could no longer see the point in life. He could feel nothing
except rage, and it was this anger that was his only fuel. He wondered what
the next 48 hours would bring him. He had considered running, but decided
that he would rather die than confirm Mulder's belief in him as a liar, who
would not hold to a bargain. He would go through with it, no matter what the
cost, in order to try and improve his own feelings about himself. He
wondered what kind of idiot that made him. He shivered, and turned to leave.

Opening the door, he caught sight of his waitress. She had come to find him,
just as he thought she would. She was small and delicate, with high breasts
that peeked enticingly from a white, lacy camisole. She wore a black skirt
that was merely a token, barely covering her butt, and beneath which her
long shapely legs were encased in dark hose. She had dark, short hair cut
into a shiny cap that allowed tendrils to frame her face, large brown eyes
and a red mouth that promised sinful pleasures. She beckoned to him, and he
moved to her, putting his arm around her waist. She reached up to pull his
head towards her, planting a quick kiss on his lips, then led him back
through a door at the end of the corridor.

Inside, she closed the door and Alex could see a linen closet, with shelves
full of white towels, sheets and tablecloths. She smiled up at Alex then,
moving in close to him and lifting her hands to unbutton his shirt. Quickly,
he grabbed both her hands and raised them to his lips and then put both his
arms around her and stooped to kiss her. Her kiss was hot, the promise of
her mouth a warm wet reality into which he slipped gratefully. He put one
hand behind her head, pressing into her with desperate urgency, wanting to
rediscover himself as a sexual animal in control of his own destiny, his own
responses. She answered his need with her own, tongues entwining, his tongue
exploring the inside of her mouth. She had flung her arms around his neck,
and he lifted her and carried her over to a bale of towels, pushing her back
against it and running his hands over her breasts, down to her waist, where
he reached behind to unfasten the buttons and zipper on her skirt. She
sighed and then wriggled, rubbing up against him, and casing him to wince as
her undulation reminded him of cuts and abrasions he had received earlier
that day.

"Wie heisst du?" he whispered, before nibbling at the corner of her mouth.
She didn't answer immediately, as she busily licked his lips, kissing her
way along his jaw and biting behind his ear.

"Ursula. Du?" She returned her attention to his neck and sucked hard,
leaving a red mark that he could not even think about right now, but which
he was sure he would have trouble explaining later.

"Alex." He pushed her skirt down, and she stepped out of it. His hands moved
down to grab her buttocks, before he stuck his thumbs into the waistband of
her panties. Moving back to allow him better access, she began to unbutton
his fly, reaching in to where his penis was beginning to thicken in
anticipation. As he pulled her underwear down and then off, she arched back
across the towels, offering herself to him. He ran his hands up her inner
thighs until they reached her centre, before leaning forward and kissing his
way across her belly, then applying his mouth to her vulva, tongue swirling
around her clit, one, then two fingers pushing themselves into her. She
groaned and spread her legs wider, putting her hands on his head to guide
him as he licked and sucked busily. He could feel her tightening around his
fingers, the core of her growing wet and slippery. Alex wanted, really
wanted to make her come. He felt that somehow it would allow him to prove to
himself that he was still the person he had always been. He threw himself
into his task with total concentration. Her hands clenched in his hair, and
he wanted to scream because it hurt him so much. She was so close he could
feel how very near the edge she was, as she uttered little, lost whimpering
sounds, and her eyes closed. He stood up straight and pressed his penis into
her, feeling the heat and warmth in a shiver of delight as he plunged in as
far as he could.

He began to move inside her, feeling her vaginal walls clamping onto his
cock as he thrust. This was nice! This was worth having! He put his fingers
down to where their bodies joined and began to rub her clit and then felt
her insides begin to flutter. She groaned again, muttering incoherently, and
then came in earnest, body spasmed, head thrown back and breath ragged as
she bit her lip. He threw himself down to cover her and kissed her mouth
deeply in genuine gratitude. A couple of minutes later, he felt his own
orgasm building, and collapsed bonelessly as he felt himself spurt into her
amid a tide of tingling heat. He lay for a minute recovering before
staggering to his feet. Employing one of the towels on the stack, he dried
her gently before wiping himself down and then refastening his jeans.

"Thank you, Uschi, thank you." He smiled at the girl who still lay in total
disarray, and then quietly left the storeroom.

Returning quickly to the bar, he saw that Mulder had not moved from where he
lay slumped. Sighing, he shook the other man's shoulder. It was time to get
the show on the road. He felt better. He would cope whatever came.


The bar had closed, and the landlord had summoned Alex back downstairs from
his room. Alex, who had been sleeping very peacefully, was more than a
little upset when the landlord had demanded that he take Mulder back to the
room. He had been very content to leave the man who had raped him sleeping
it off on the table, but the hotel staff had other ideas, and so Alex was
now attempting to get Mulder back to the room and out of trouble. It was as
simple as getting a genie back into its bottle.

Fox Mulder was a maudlin drunk. Alex had woken him and was now attempting to
get all of him into the elevator, so that he could get him back up to their
room. He manhandled Mulder into the elevator, not an easy task when the
sozzled agent's legs had apparently developed independent motion, and were
trying to go off in opposite directions neither of which was the right way.
Cushioned from the jabs to the kidneys and other small hurts that Alex had
tried to inflict on him by several gallons of German beer, Mulder knew no
pain. Sighing, Alex gave up trying to make him uncomfortable and
concentrated on getting him out of the bar. Right now, Mulder was leaning up
against the corner with Alex leaning against him in an attempt to keep him
from sliding down the wall and across the floor. Fox was mumbling
incoherently and showed an appalling tendency to keep grabbing Alex in a
proprietary manner. Alex delivered a punch to his gut that made him fold
neatly in the middle and he finally got the elevator loaded and closed,
pushing the button for the fifth floor with a sigh of relief.

Mulder gave a huge groan, and as the elevator began to ascend, he began his
descent. The lanky agent buckled at the knees and slowly toppled forwards
over the long suffering Alex until he lost his balance, and the pair of them
crumpled into a heap of thrashing arms and legs. The elevator came to a
standstill, and the doors opened on their corridor, but just as Alex managed
to fight himself out of the tangle, they closed again, and the elevator
began to descend.

Shouting a number of particularly virulent curses in Russian, Alex thumped
impotently on the button as the malevolent elevator came to rest on the
ground floor once more. He tried to gather Mulder together as the doors
opened, and a pair of elderly ladies entered. Grinning somewhat maniacally,
Alex bent to put his arms under Mulder's shoulders, in an attempt to lift
Mulder up off the floor. The elevator began to ascend once more, and too
late, he realized that he had not yet pushed the button for his floor.
Panicking, he attempted to extract his right hand to do so, but Mulder chose
just that moment to open his eyes and throw his arms around Alex, trying
drunkenly to kiss him. The old ladies moved into the corner of the elevator,
where they huddled somewhat apprehensively, and Alex gibbered as the
elevator went sailing past his floor.

The elevator came to rest on the 12th floor, and the two women, who had
entered the elevator very sedately, shot from its innards as if pursued by
demons. Mulder's voice followed them, telling them in slurred but
distinctive tones just how beautiful Alex was. Alex heaved a sigh of relief
and pushed the button for the 5th floor. The doors closed on him, and the
elevator dropped. Mulder threw up.

Alex was by this time beginning to think that he had already died and was
now in hell. As the elevator opened its doors enticingly onto the 5th floor,
he shoved out his foot, and tried to peel Mulder off the floor, succeeding
only partially as bits of Mulder kept eluding him and slipping down to rest
once more. The door closed on Alex's leg.

Yelping a little, Alex prepared to get nasty. He grabbed Mulder by the hair
and yanked. This had some of the desired effect. The other man appeared to
get himself together to a certain extent, and rearing up to his full height,
he stalked from the elevator, with Alex scampering in his wake like a
tugboat following a liner into dock. This dignified procession was spoiled
when after three disdainful paces Mulder suddenly pitched forward, and fell
flat on his face in front of their door.

Shaking his head, Alex took out his key and opened the door to the room.
After this afternoon, he had thought that he would never again want to see
this room. He found himself feeling relieved when he finally gathered the
unconscious thorn in his flesh by the hair and the back of his T-shirt and
dragged him into the room before slamming the door shut with great relief.

He busied himself, stripping the dead weight that was Mulder down to his
boxers, bathing his face and finally managing to pour him into the bed. Alex
was concerned that he would be sick again and reluctant to share his space
with a vomiting drunkard went in search of a receptacle just in case. He
finally settled on the ice bucket and placed it next to the bed ready, then
grabbing a spare blanket and a couple of pillows, he curled up on the floor
beside the bed and fell instantly asleep.


Krycek awoke in the early hours of the morning. His body hurt. The only part
that wasn't stiff was his dick, he thought to himself as he rolled and
stretched, trying to iron out the kinks in his spine. He sat up to check on
Mulder, figuring that the other agent had been the reason why he had
awakened. He did not immediately see Mulder, and with a sigh he got to his
feet, wondering if he would have to go out in search of him. He knew only
too well that enough booze could bring about sleepwalking, and Mulder had
certainly been very drunk that evening. He circled the bed, but the other
man had not merely fallen out on the opposite side. Alex gritted his teeth.
He was sore, tired and fed up. He wanted to sleep. He actually wanted to
sleep in the bed, although if Mulder was going to throw up again he
certainly didn't want to have anything to do with that process.

He opened the door of the room and looked up the corridor. The elevator was
there, facing him, its doors invitingly open. He noticed that it had been
cleaned since he last saw it. He shuddered, and when he didn't see Mulder,
he retreated, closing the door behind him.

Next, he went to the bathroom to check if Mulder had found his way there.
When he saw the other man slumped loosely over the toilet, he breathed a
sigh of relief.

"Mulder, you OK?"

Mulder groaned, sounding a little as if he were a rusty door.

"Oh God, Krycek! I think I'm gonna die. I feel really bad." He raised
plaintive eyes to Alex, who actually did feel a little sorry for him as he
studied the usually intelligent face of his current partner. Alex filled a
glass with water, shook a couple of aspirins out of the bottle, and handed
them to the afflicted man. Mulder took them gratefully and downed them

"Are you feeling sick?" Alex was anxious and prepared to back away very
smartly as Mulder struggled to his feet.

"Not now, but I've got a terrible headache." Mulder's voice held all the
misery of the healthy male unused to the feeling of less than perfect
health. Alex grinned.

"You deserve it. Don't you know any better than to knock back German beer on
an empty stomach? Dumb fuck!" Mulder looked at him in mute appeal and Alex
shook his head. "What? What do you want from me? I promised to stay with you
for a couple of days, not to nurse you in sickness and in health. If you're
sick, I'm not gonna clean it up for you. Live with it!"

Mulder pulled himself to his feet and struggled back to the bed where he lay

"I'm not going to be sick now, it's OK. Come to bed, I won't touch you." He
closed his eyes, and after a minute, Alex peeled off his clothes down to his
T-shirt and boxers and then crawled gratefully into the bed beside Mulder.
Within a couple of minutes, they were both asleep.


The two men slept on into the morning, and it was around nine when Alex
finally opened his eyes, rather blearily, and surveyed the day. His fever
was still present, he had developed a sore throat and a headache to go with
it. On the pillow to his left he could see the tuft of hair that was the
only visible part of Mulder. On his right, the window, when he tweaked the
curtains open a little, revealed a grey, blustery day that certainly didn't
encourage him to leap out of bed.

Forced from his warm cocoon by his bladder, he stumbled off to the bathroom,
where he rinsed his face in cold water and brushed his teeth, feeling a
little better as he did so. Shaking a couple of aspirin from the bottle and
chewing them, he decided that a shower could wait for a while. He
high-tailed it back to the bed where he snuggled down, hoping to enjoy a few
more minutes of warmth and comfort before he needed get up finally and face
the day.

He was just nestling gratefully into his pillows when his companion finally
came to. Initially there were a couple of hollow groans, and Alex grinned.
*Serve the bastard right!* he thought viciously as he mentally took stock of
his aches and pains. He felt a whole lot better now that he had had a little

Mulder moaned again and Alex prepared to be entertained as the other man
emerged, whimpering, from his bedclothes. Tousled, hollow eyed and yellow,
he looked anything but the picture of health as he made his own burst for
the bathroom. Alex reached out a lazy arm for the telephone, and once he had
dialed room service, he ordered breakfast, figuring that Mulder would feel
better with juice and coffee inside him, even if he didn't feel like eating.
He personally was starving, and he ordered eggs, ham, toast and cold cuts.

Mulder chose that second to reappear and stumbled back to bed. Krycek,
comparatively clear eyed and full of energy, informed him that breakfast was
on its way. It was worth it to hear the moans that followed his

"Alex, I'm sorry, really sorry." Mulder didn't elaborate, and Alex didn't
ask him to. He merely nodded and left it at that. Mulder rolled to face
Alex, and lifted a finger to touch a bruise that was showing just on his
hairline. "You made me so angry. I think I was out of my mind. I would
never.... Alex, I love you. Really, I do. I always have."

Alex closed his eyes and counted silently under his breath. "Mulder, I've
told you, you have me for 48 hours, but that's it. I don't see my future as
your sex toy. I'm not going to hang around after 4pm tomorrow, I give you
fair warning. Now I'm keeping my side of the bargain. I'm trusting you to
keep yours." He looked full at Mulder then and saw misery in the other man's
eyes. He shrugged mentally. Some you win, some you lose. This time, Mulder
would lose.

Mulder leaned forward then and kissed Alex, first very tenderly, nibbling
his lips with gentleness he hadn't shown the day before. Alex lay passively,
permitting the contact, and then gradually Mulder increased the pressure of
his mouth over Krycek's, putting his soul into a kiss that had Alex
responding in spite of himself. He made a soft sound in his throat,
somewhere between a whimper and a sob, and his tongue began to find its way
into Alex's mouth, his hands coming up to cradle Alex's face gently. After a
few seconds, Alex gave a sigh, and began to kiss him back. He put his arms
around Mulder, pulling his body into him and pressing up against him as hard
as he could. If he was going to do this, he might as well get some enjoyment
from it. He opened his lips further, and his tongue began to duel with
Mulder's. The knock on the door when it came made them both jump. Mulder
clambered laboriously out of the bed, pulling on jeans over his bulging
erection and moving to answer the door. Room service had arrived, and there
was food piled onto a cart. Mulder quickly pulled it into the room, thanked
the bellhop and closed the door again.

They both felt better after several glasses of orange juice, plenty of
coffee, and the food that they found under the covered trays. Mulder had
also taken another couple of aspirin, and he felt almost human. Turning back
to Alex where he lounged on the bed in his underwear, munching on a piece of
toast, he tried again.

"Alex, I want to make things up to you. Show you how I feel about you. I
want to love you properly." He was obviously in earnest, and Alex was
amazed. It didn't seem to matter what he said; Mulder would just keep on
trying until he could get away.

*Listen Mulder, I have the flu, I'm sore from what you did to me yesterday,
I don't now, and never will love you, but if that means nothing to you, go
for it! * Alex said nothing, knowing what would be next, and unable to do
anything about it in his present weakened state. He had promised, and he
would keep his promise.

Mulder crept back onto the bed, and Alex finished his toast, licking each
finger clean the way a cat might. Mulder lay watching him, and gently
tracing the lines of muscle in his arms as he did so.

"You make me want to tear you to pieces, Alex," he confided. "I look at you
and you're so beautiful. You're the most beautiful thing I ever saw, and I
want you so much, but you aren't mine, and I know that. It feels as if I've
taken poison. I don't know what to do. I know you don't love me, but God, I
wish you did." Mulder buried his head in Krycek's shoulder, and after a
moment or two, Alex gently put his arm around Mulder, and held him while he

As Mulder quieted, Alex withdrew his arms, pulling away from Mulder and
getting out of bed.

"God Mulder, you're such a fucking mess. I won't have to kill you. You'll do
it for me one of these days."


The plane ride had been a far cry from the sleek, transatlantic flight of
the previous day. They had embarked on a small, propeller driven crate that
looked as if it had seen better days. It did not help that one of the
passengers had what appeared to be a wire crate full of chickens. Alex was
coughing and shivering now, and Mulder was very quiet. They had wordlessly
dressed, packed and checked out of the hotel two hours before the flight and
now were deplaning at an airport which was barely more than a field with a
hut at one end. It was becoming dark already, and Mulder thought that they
should find somewhere to spend the night before attempting any
investigations. He was a little worried about Alex's coughing. He had dosed
him with some disgusting tasting cough syrup he had obtained before they
departed Frankfurt. Now Alex appeared drowsy, and the air was freezing cold.
At Mulder's prompting, they managed to find a room in a farmhouse several
miles from the airport. After signing the guest book, Mulder requested some
lunch to be brought to their room and then went off to get Alex into bed
before he became any sicker than he was already.

Alex needed little or no persuasion to get into the bed and lay quietly,
coughing from time to time. The landlady arrived with bowls of stew and
black bread. They ate hungrily, and Alex appeared better. Mulder decided to
leave Alex to sleep for a while and went off to see if there was anyone in
the area who could speak English, and who would talk to him about the thing
they had come so far to find.


Alex opened his eyes on a brand new day. He felt much better. His fever
seemed less, and his throat no longer ached the same way. He rolled over to
see that Mulder was awake and watching him.

"Have you been awake for long?" Alex still sounded a little hoarse, but the
smoky quality of his voice was merely enhanced by his sore throat.

"About an hour. I was watching you sleep. You are so beautiful. I didn't
want to wake you until I had to. We'll have to go soon, we've still got
about an hour's travelling to do, and I need you to translate for me for a
little while yet." Mulder stroked Alex's cheek softly as he spoke and rolled
to snuggle against his warmth.

"Mulder, I want you to know." Alex was starting to speak when Mulder put
his hand over Alex's mouth and stopped him.

"Alex, I don't want you to say anything else. I know this is the last chance
I'm ever going to have to show you how I feel about you." Mulder gave a
little choking sound and then pulled Alex to him and kissed him hard.

Alex shuddered at the sensation of Mulder's lean, hard body against his,
finally relaxing into the embrace with a sigh. Mulder turned his mouth
against Krycek's, working with his lips to open Krycek's mouth, and when his
lips parted, he gently stroked his tongue between them, moaning softly. Alex
allowed him a little more access, and they lay, exploring each other's
mouths, holding each other, Mulder's hands running over Krycek's back, along
his ribs and down over his hip to cup his butt.

Mulder had become hard very quickly, and he could feel that Alex was
beginning to get excited too. He ground his prick into Alex, rubbing it back
and forth over Alex's. The sensation was amazing. He felt Alex's cock
pulsing as it grew, and putting his hand down between them, he squeezed both
of them together, gasping as the first splintery tingles of pleasure flashed
through him. Alex put a hand up to his cheek, and Mulder's eyes flew to look
at his face.

"Just one thing, Mulder. I'm gonna be the one today. I'm gonna do you."
Mulder's cock pulsed wildly at his reluctant lover's words.

"Oh God, Alex, I want you to. Please, hurry." He reached for a tube of lube
he had bought after the fiasco the day before. Opening the cap, he began to
spread it into his hand, warming it. Reaching down, he smeared it onto
Alex's cock, and his hand began to slide up and down the shaft, making Alex
moan and buck his hips.

"Better not do that for too much longer, Mulder, unless you want me to shoot
first and ask questions later!" Mulder reluctantly let go of Alex and began
preparing himself, spreading the lube over his anus, pushing in first one,
then two fingers, stretching himself so that Alex would be able to get his
cock in without causing him too much discomfort.

Finally, Alex pushed Mulder face down on the bed and made him draw his knees
up, so that he lay open, waiting for his impalement.

"Oh God! Alex, please hurry! I want you so much." Alex finally took hold of
his penis and traced around the entrance to Mulder's passageway. Then at
last he put the broad head against Mulder's puckered opening and pushed it
home. It slipped in, meeting a little resistance at first, and then sliding
in to the hilt, until Alex's belly rested on Mulder's ass cheeks. Alex dug
his fingers into the skin of Mulder's sides, twisting the flesh beneath his
fingers, hurting the other man as he gripped him. Mulder cried out
incoherently, and Alex put his hand over the other man's mouth.

"If you make too much noise, I will stop. Be quiet!" Mulder groaned but
quieted at this, and slowly at first, gradually picking up speed, Alex began
to pump in and out of Mulder's ass.

Mulder began to lose it first. He was clutching his cock, frantically
rubbing it as Alex pumped, and his balls tightened. The first wave of
glowing tickling pleasure shot through him, starting in his balls, and
spreading like ripples the length of his dick, across his belly and down
through his thighs.

"Oh! Fuck me, Alex!" he screamed as he came. Alex, felt Mulder's muscles
flex and tighten around his cock, clamping down and sending slippery hot joy
pulsing through it. He grunted and his own orgasm rushed in like the tide,
causing him to collapse onto the back of the man he despised..

"Yes! Fuck you, Mulder! Fuck you!"


They lay on the hillside watching the men below them. They had arrived here
at the end of their journey, but they were still not sure exactly what it
was that they were watching.

"We'll be finding out the truth soon enough," Mulder said with certain

"The truth!" Alex spoke scornfully. "I told you before, there is no truth.
You only see your own "truth", and that makes you into a hypocrite. Grow up,
Mulder, and then maybe you'll find a truth that's worth looking for."


They were in a holding cell. Alex had been a little panicked, thinking they
were going to be tortured, but it hadn't happened. Mulder's watch was
showing 4pm. Alex had yelled some Russian in answer to a guard, and suddenly
Mulder became aware that his time was up. He grabbed Alex by the throat and
pushed him up against the wall.

"What did you say to him?"

Alex surveyed him grimly, and the blank stare in his eyes made a mockery of
intimacy previously given.

"Don't touch me again."


The endfor now