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Project Two: Out On A Ledge by UnChuck
Alex Krycek was exhausted.
The previous night with his FBI partner, Fox Mulder, had used up hislast ounce of energy. Alex hadn't made it home until nearly 3 a.m., andhere it was 7:30 and time to get ready for work. The two hadn't spokensince the incident in the phone booth.
His plan was progressing nicely. Alex had wanted this man, and lastnight he had discovered that the desire was mutual. His seduction of Mulder would continue, and each day this man would want him, need him more. ButAlex was running out of time. The ghosts from his past and the demons from his future would soon be upon him. The Consortium was putting pressureon him to show results. He needed time, time to lock Mulder in and insure that no matter what happened there would always be this bond between them.
Fox Mulder was exhausted.
Had he slept at all last night? It had been another battle for rest,only this time it wasn't images of aliens or demons from his past that haunted him, it was demons from his present.
Images of Alex's green eyes kept flashing in his mind. Those sad,lonely green eyes. Mulder returned again and again to the phone booth. Returned to his position kneeling in front of the other man, looking upat that face distorted with pleasure and into those eyes, those hauntinggreen eyes. What could there be in this young man's life to put so muchemotion there? Pain, confusion, sadness and doubt. It was all there, allthere in Alex's eyes. And all such a mystery. It just made Mulder wanthim more, want to be there connecting with him, to absorb him and consumehis unhappiness. Even in this way, kneeling there, in front of him. Givinghim pleasure, trying to understand his pain.
Finally the emotions were too much, and the irony of the situationstruck him.
"God," he thought, "sucking off your partner in a phonebooth. Now there was a brilliant move."
And then he realized that he'd said it, said the word. Partner.
It was time for a shower. Time to wash the images from his eyes. Timeto face another day working beside Alex Krycek. The man of his nightmares.The mystery of his dreams.
Skinner was angry.
Sitting uncomfortably in his office were Agents Mulder and Krycek.Skinner was giving them one of his patented ass-chewings. Just the wayboth agents wanted to start out their day. They had been working thiscase for nearly two weeks and were getting nowhere. Meanwhile, middle-agedwhite guys were being shoved out of hotel windows almost on a nightlybasis. If something didn't happen soon, the press would get ahold of thestory, and there'd be hell to pay.
"Now get out there and solve this thing. I want this case closed,"Skinner angrily commanded the two agents as they exited his office.
Skinner was exhausted.
Had he really received that phone call last night? Was that reallyMulder's voice he'd heard? After all, it was only a few muffled moans andother assorted sounds. It was probably just a prank call. Totally random.But the call had hit a nerve, unlocked a fantasy he had worked long to suppress.
Mulder. It was all Mulder's fault. Mulder had needs and Skinner couldmeet those needs. Mulder needed control and Skinner could be that control. Mulder needed focus and Skinner could be that focus. Mulder needed tobe on his knees, begging for it. But these desires were wrong, Skinnerknew that. Mulder on his knees. It was wrong for Skinner to abuse hisposition of power. Mulder begging for it. Yes, this was wrong, but oh so right.
Mulder was nervous.
Sitting in his cubicle with Krycek by his side, the two agents reviewedthe case that was giving them so much difficulty. Murder number one had occurred two weeks ago. A 59-year-old physician from Virginia, tossedout the window of a room at the St. Albany Hotel. The only clue had beenthe crumbled flower petals on the floor beneath the window.
Damn, he thought. Even cleaned up he could still smell Krycek, hecould still be distracted by his mere presence. If there was one thingthat Mulder had learned about Alex in these past weeks it was his odor,the scent of the man. The fresh-from-the-academy agent always smelled clean, at least on the surface, but below the simple scent of soap was somethingmore complex, more masculine, something with an edge. It was a signaturethat he would not soon forget. And here, now, he was so close. So closeand yet...
Murder number two had occurred a week later. A 57-year-old businessmanfrom Florida, ejected out the window of a room on the sixth floor of the Buccaneer Hotel.
The Buccaneer Hotel. Hotels are full of rooms, he thought to himself.Rooms full of beds. Beds were places to take your lover. Places to have mind-blowing sex. That's what he wanted.
That's what he smelled. Alex Krycek. Sex.
Murder number three had occurred only two nights ago.
When would it happen again? Would it be tonight? When would he getto taste Krycek again? Would it be tonight? He didn't have a clue.
And then the phone rang.
Alex Krycek was relieved.
He was running out of coherent things to say. Mulder was distractinghim. Thoughts of last night were distracting him. Hell, the breeze fromthe air conditioner was distracting him.
Luckily the phone rang. He watched as Mulder answered it. The senioragent turned his back and spoke in a soft voice. Was Mulder nervous, ordid he still not trust him? When would Mulder ever trust him? Alex wasgoing to make Mulder trust him, need him, if it was the last thing he did. And no matter what would happen in the future, Mulder would always needhim. Always want him. He'd make sure of that. That was the project. That was the plan.
Mulder and Krycek had gone their separate ways.
After the phone call, Mulder had sent Krycek to dig further into thepasts of the three murder victims. There must be some connection, and itwas Krycek's job to uncover it. Strangely, Mulder had taken a less obvioustask. He told Krycek that he wanted to look again at the three hotels,and see if there was any connection there. He hadn't told Krycek who hadcalled or what they had said.
And yet, as the two were on their separate tasks, in the back of theirminds one thought remained: when. When would it happen again?
Mulder was getting away, away from Alex Krycek.
He couldn't stand it any longer, to be so close to Alex and yet sofar away. What he had done with this man the previous night was wrong,impulsive, stupid. Why had he done it? Mulder needed to get away fromall this confusion and return to something rational, even if it was thisdamned case. This case was something he could solve, it was a riddle thatjust needed puzzling out; a little digging and he'd have it solved. Butnot Alex, that was another case entirely. No simple answers there. No,a few phone calls and a little research wasn't going to solve the mysteriouscase of Alex Krycek. And even if he did discover the mystery behind thoseeyes, somehow he knew he wasn't going to like what he found.
Krycek was finally getting somewhere.
It had taken all day and well into the evening, but he was on theverge of connecting the three. Should he call Mulder and tell him? Wouldit be enough? Mulder had said not to come back until he had something.Did he really mean it, or was Mulder just trying to get rid of him? He'dsoon find out.
Alex took out his cell-phone. God, the cell-phone. Had that been alame excuse or what? He could just imagine his next conquest... drivingaround with Mulder on some lonely D.C. back road. Yeah, that's it, that'sthe plan. The car runs out of gas. They pull over. What to do? Relax, stretchout in the back. Maybe offer to give Mulder a back rub. Rip off his clothesand bonk like rabbits. Yeah, that's it, that's the plan!
Alex dialed Mulder's number. He listened to it ring.
"Hey there, Fox. Wanna go for a ride in my Cherry Red Taurus?"
The words were on the edge of his lips, and somewhere, in some distantalternate universe, Alex had actually spoken them, actually propositionedthe object of his lust. But not here, not now. In this universe Alex hadremained silent.
The phone rang again.
"It's Krycek. I may have something."
"Yeah, right Fox, I've got something for you alright. It's herebetween my legs." Alex could hear the words echo in his mind, andyet never reach his lips. He could feel his stomach churning and twistingin knots. Could just the sound of Mulder's voice do this to him?
Even as he was speaking, Alex could hear the soft breathing of theother man. Gently in, gently out. Gently in, gently out. He could almostfeel it on the back of his neck. As if Mulder were standing right there,right behind him. Breathing. Gently in, gently out. Tickling the littlehairs on the back of his neck. Gently in, gently out. It was driving himinsane. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Gently in. Alex was supposedto be seducing Mulder, not the other way around. Gently out. Alex closedhis eyes. Gently in. And remembered. Gently out.
"Fine, we can talk about it later. Right now I need you to meetme at the Pinnacle Hotel. Hurry up, we don't have much time." Mulderhad cut him off before Alex could say much of anything. And damn it, he'dhung up on him. Mulder sure knew how to destroy a mood. At least, Alexdecided, Mulder's idea was much better than his. A hotel room was muchmore comfortable than the back seat of that government issue sedan.
Alex wondered if this was how Mulder had treated Scully when the twowere partners. All talk and no action. All smile and no teeth. Well, Alexhad gotten past first base with the object of his attentions, but, hewondered, would there be a trip to home plate?
Mulder was waiting.
Alex met him in the lobby of the Pinnacle Hotel. Mulder was standingnear the front desk, standing a short distance away was a odd-looking shortman dressed in a surprisingly bright red suit. Alex could almost swearthe man was a midget. Upon his approach, the little man disappeared behindthe counter.
"I've spoken to the manager and had the sixth floor emptied,"Mulder explained.
Wait a minute, Alex thought to himself. What does Mulder have in mind?I'd be perfectly content with just one room. I don't need the whole frickin' floor!
Alex tried to focus on Mulder's words and return himself to some formof normalcy. It was just that Mulder was so damn sexy when he was on thehunt. His jaw would clench in that certain way and his breathing woulddeepen and his eyes would focus and his head would tilt and all Alex wantedto do was lay a big wet kiss on him. With lots of tongue. Lots and lotsof tongue. And maybe he'd reach up with his hand and give one of Mulder's nipples a little twist. Mulder would like that, yes, and Alex decidedthat he would too.
Alex let out a little shudder of a breath, and managed to get out,"Wha...what is it? Do you know who the next intended victim is?"Alex gave his head a little shake to try and rattle the thoughts fromhis brain.
"I have the list of men staying on that floor, and the managerhas arranged to get the three men that match the M.O. into the hotel restaurantby offering them a free dinner. I may not know who the target is, butI know it's going down tonight."
"Going down tonight." Those words sent Alex's mind reeling."Going down." Down, down, down. And up. And down. And up anddown, and in and out. And over and under. You do the hokey-pokey and you turn yourself around, that's what it's all about.
Alex let out another little shudder of breath, and struggled to saysomething that resembled a coherent sentence. "But won't he just throwthe guy out some other window?"
"Look, Krycek, get your act together. You look like you're fallingapart. Now, I don't have time to explain. We have to get up there and findhim. The killer will be here tonight, and we're going to be waiting."
Mulder's words hit Alex hard. This wasn't supposed to be happening.Mulder was the one that was supposed to be falling apart, the one thatwas supposed to be obsessing about their relationship, not the other wayaround. Was his plan failing? Was he even a failure at the simple art of seduction? He must stay detached. He must not get involved. Mulder wassupposed to be just another pawn in his game. But somehow, Alex knew thatif anyone in this game was a pawn, it was him. But there was still time,wasn't there? There had to be time for him to make his move, to find aknight to come to his rescue.
The two agents nervously inspected the sixth floor. The odd littlemanager had provided each with a master pass key and they were proceeding with a room-by-room check.
"Just who or what are we searching for, Mulder?"
"You'll know when you find it; now shut up and keep looking."Mulder was clearly agitated with the his inexperienced partner. The youngman had been acting strangely all evening. While Mulder tried to briefhim in the lobby, Alex had seemed to be overtaken by nervous ticks. Theguy kept shaking his head and he kept blinking those long, seductive eyelashes.It was as if his partner had been trying to send him some sort of messagein morse code. Blink-blink, blink-blink. It was all Mulder could do toconcentrate on the subject at hand. Mulder only hoped that now that theywere searching the hotel, Alex could get his act together.
They had started at one end of the sixth floor, and had now reachedthe opposite end. The floor was empty, not another living soul around.The hallway was nearly silent, as if it had been abandoned years ago.The silence only seemed to increase the tension and make the two men allthe more aware of every little sound, every little shadow.
"Wait a minute. Look at the light outside room 614; it's dimmerthan the others, isn't it?" Mulder asked his partner. The two agentsran down the hall until they were outside the room. Both noticed a slightchill in the air. Mulder inserted his key card into the lock, opening thedoor. The lights were off.
"You turned on all the lights in the rooms you checked, right?"asked Mulder.
"Yes, I did just as you were doing," Krycek replied.
Reaching in, Mulder flipped the switch. No lights. Cautiously, thetwo men entered the dark room, guns drawn. There was a strange odor, sweet, almost sickening. As they reached the middle of the room, the smell mysteriouslydisappeared. They felt a breeze against their skin. Both men looked tothe far wall, seeing the blue velvet curtains rustling in the breeze. Thewindow was open, ready for it's intended victim, a waiting portal to death.
The once dead lights in the room began to flicker and electric sparksshot across the ceiling and the walls, as if Zeus himself had let loosethe fury of the storm.
"Mulder, Mulder, what's going on?"
"Stay alert, Krycek; stay on your guard!" Mulder shouted.
There, in the doorway, appeared a specter, a shadow surrounded byintense sparks of brilliant, blue light.
"I will be avenged! You will not stop me!"
The specter suddenly changed shape into a ball of electric fire. Itrocketed towards the two men, zooming past and between them, disappearingout of the window. And then, just as suddenly as the lightning had appeared,it vanished. The room was returned to darkness and eerie, choking silence.
Mulder walked over to the light switch by the door and flicked onthe lights. When he turned, he saw his partner seated on the bed, his headslumped down, held between his hands.
Alex lifted his head and looked up at his partner. "What wasthat thing, Mulder?"
"That was our killer, Alex, that was our killer!" Mulderwas psyched. There was a spring in his step and his whole body radiatedintense energy, as if he'd just downed ten cups of coffee. Mulder moved quickly over to the window. There, on the carpet, were a few dried petalsfrom a white carnation. He knelt down and picked a few up and brought themto his nose, taking a hesitant sniff before letting them fall gently betweenhis fingers and back down to the floor.
Alex Krycek jumped to his feet.
"What the hell are you doing, Mulder?" Krycek stood, amazed,as he watched Mulder climb out the window onto the ledge.
"Looking for more evidence. I know it's here, it has to be heresomewhere," Mulder replied.
Alex walked over to the window and looked out at Mulder crawling onthe ledge. For an instant, Alex was reminded of the time he had met Mulderat the pool. Met Mulder, and more importantly, Mulder's red speedos. Hewatched as Mulder's firm swimmer's buttocks disappeared down the ledgeand into the night.
"Are you crazy? You'll get yourself killed out there! That thingcould come back."
"What - did you find something, Mulder?"
Alex looked out the window, but could only see the shadowy figureof Mulder on the ledge. It was time to take action. He wasn't going tolet Mulder make him look like a wimp. Alex climbed out the window andonto the ledge.
The Pinnacle was an old hotel, and had a large decorative cornice encirclingthe building on the sixth floor. A mere two feet wide, it was barely wideenough for a man to stand on. Alex was nervous. He wasn't normally afraidof heights, but with some strange ball-of-fire entity on the loose, youcould never be too sure. He tried to focus on his reason for being on theledge. A debate raged in his head. If Mulder jumped off the ledge, wouldhe do the same?
If it meant following that sweet ass, he might just do it.
Eventually, Alex reached Mulder's side. There they were, two federalagents standing out on the sixth story ledge of one of Washington's besthotels. Alex did his best not to look suicidal.
"You're not nervous, are you Krycek?"
"No, I'm not nervous, are you?" Alex replied sarcastically.
"Feel the breeze out here. It's a lovely evening. We should enjoyit." Mulder was toying with the young man. He could see that Krycekwas uncomfortable being up so high. The experienced agent studied theface of the younger man. He watched as tiny beads of sweat built up alonghis forehead. A small drop slowly worked its way down past Krycek's eyeand across his cheek. Mulder observed with some pleasure as Alex unconsciously licked the sweat away from the corner of his mouth. It reminded Mulderof the events of the previous evening and how he had performed a similaract. Maybe this time, the tables would be turned and it would be Mulderin control.
"Sure partner, but can we go in now?" asked Alex.
As the two men began to step sideways towards the window, Mulder'sfoot slipped on a loose piece of the ledge. Krycek instinctively reachedout and pushed Mulder back against the wall, his hand hitting Mulder inthe stomach.
"Are you okay, Mulder?"
"It's alright, I'm fine. And thanks for punching me in the gut,I really needed that."
The two men looked at each other, relieved that the danger had beenaverted. Their eyes met and they were instantly connected.
"I don't want to lose you, Mulder."
But it was too late; Mulder was already lost in Alex's sad green eyes.He saw so many different emotions within them, as if they were an oceanof guilt and despair, reflecting back his own confusion, his own desires.This was the one thing Mulder had been avoiding all night: contact with Alex. The touch of the young man's hand, the mysterious gleam in his eyes- these were the things he feared most.
Mulder felt Krycek's hand pressed against his stomach. He reachedup with his own hand and placed it on top of Krycek's. Mulder wanted desperatelyto connect with this man, uncover what secrets he held behind those eyes.Mulder needed to touch him, feel the blood coursing through his veins.
Slowly, Mulder guided Alex's hand down, lower, across his stomach.Past his belt buckle. Lower still, until it reached between his legs, allthe while looking deeper and deeper into the firey depths of his partner'seyes.
Mulder squeezed Krycek's hand, and thereby squeezing his own genitals.The blood was flowing and he was becoming hard, reacting to the touch of his partner's firm hand. Both men's breathing became shorter and morestressed as the intensity of their connection increased. Mulder releasedhis grasp, but Krycek kept pumping him, rhythmically stimulating his throbbingsex organ. He reached over and found Krycek's belt buckle and explored with his fingers until he found the zipper, quickly lowering it and reachingin, releasing Krycek's cock and returning his hand to his new best friend.It was already hard and eager for attention. Krycek did the same, unzippingMulder's pants and exposing his cock and balls to the crisp night air.
Both men were exhilarated as they stood there on the ledge, obliviousto the world around them. Each of them rapidly pumping the other man'scock, never breaking the connection between their eyes. They were lostin another world, a world surrounded in darkness and occupied only by themselves. The pumping quickened as both men reached the edge. They weregoing to climax together and be joined as one. Nothing was going to stopthem now and nothing could come between them.
Walter Skinner couldn't believe what he was doing. He was an AssistantDirector of the FBI, and yet here he was following two of the Bureau'sbest agents around. Did he not trust them?
It was another late evening, past 11, and he was secretly shadowingtheir movements to one of Washington's finest hotels. As he walked pastthe front facade of the hotel toward the main entrance, he felt a fewdrops of moisture hit his bald scalp.
"Is it beginning to rain?" he asked himself.
He instinctively reached up with his hand to wipe the moisture fromhis head. As he wiped, a strange expression came over his face. Whateverthis was on his head, it wasn't water.
He brought his fingers to his nose to smell the unknown substance.He rubbed the thick liquid between his digits and examined it.
Not water, definitely not water.
"Not bird droppings; thank God it wasn't bird shit," henoted.
What else could it be? He brought a finger to his lips and took ahesitant taste with his tongue.
Skinner stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face.He knew that taste. It was the salty taste of another man.
Above him he heard the cries of two men; two men in ecstasy. Skinnerfell to his knees and became lost in the sounds, overwhelmed by the passion.In his mind, his own cries joined those of the two men above him. Hisimaginary sounds of agony bounced off the stone walls of the buildingsand danced with those of the others. It was a chorus of pain, pleasure,sin and seduction like no man had experienced before. Skinner felt theground beneath him shake, and his whole body convulse, as he tried invain to stop the emotions from escaping their inner prison.
It was going to be a long night. A very long night.