Title: A Comedy of Errors
Author/pseudonym: Ursula
Fandom: X-Files with North By 60 crossover guest character
Paring: Skinner/Krycek, Krycek/O, Mulder/Lloyd Hillard, Mulder/Krycek
Rating: NC-17
Status: New
Archive: Anywhere, as a complete story. If you have a constructive
critique
and wish to use a portion, contact me directly.
E-mail address for feedback: Fan4Richie@aol.com or Ursula4X@aol.com
Series/Sequel: Mention of "A Warm Place Out of the Rain"
Other websites:
Disclaimers: X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Fox
TV and et al.
Mention of Rodney Lange, property of Panzer, Character of Lloyd
Hillard,
property of North By 60 studio and developers.
Notes: There will be a test. Take some.
Summary: Walter Skinner acts as an unlikely cupid for Mulder and Krycek.
Warnings: Slash, a little bondage and rough sex, S/K don't
kill me for the
end. I was writing this and then did the challenge. It struck
me that this
might be the first step that leads to the situation in the February
00
challenge.
A Comedy of Errors
Walter Skinner neatly hung jeans and sweatshirt in the wardrobe
and posed
for a moment in front of the mirror, not bad for a man his age,
not bad at
all. He was proud of his body; hell, he worked hard to maintain
it against
the overwhelming pressure to let bureaucracy strangle away his
life. He ran a
questing hand over the expanse of his broad chest; catching his
fingers in
the crisp, clean hair. He slowly circled his large nipples, imaging
a scene
with both of his fantasy partners suckling them.
Exercised, bathed, and massaged in the general part of the
club, he was now
ready for dessert. More often than not, he ordered honey skinned,
large nosed
sweethearts with pendulous lower lips and dark brown hair delivered.
It
added to his enjoyment that the "artists" were not allowed
to speak a word
unless he commanded and he seldom gave them leeway to do so. Lovely
as Fox
Mulder, but silent and submissive; now that was a charming fantasy!
Tonight
however, he wanted a musk of danger without the substance. He
had asked for a
certain artist who much resembled Alex Krycek. He usually ordered
the young
man in costume of a cheap suit, but hadn't tonight. Tonight, he
had said,
"Black leather and jeans." It was odd that the man had
not been waiting, but
the desk had said, "Go in, relax, and he'll surprise you."
Walter heard the door open and he swept back the covers to
admit his
plaything. "Nice view," commented a caustic voice.
Walter looked up into the smiling face of the real thing. Where
the hell
had he left his gun? He didn't have a chance. Krycek was pointing
a large
Glock directly at him. Krycek really looked good in leather, sleek,
deadly,
and very sexy. Somehow the danger sent some unwanted message to
his groin and
his waning erection stood straight up. He reached to cover it
with the
bedding, but Krycek said, "Mmm, no, I like the view. Has
Mulder seen it? I
mean up very close, at nose's length so to speak?"
Walter understood immediately and part of him wanted to lie
and watch
jealousy twist and sour that elegantly featured face. He shook
his head as
self-preservation won over bullshit. He wasn't Mulder and he didn't
have the
impetuous agent's nine lives to bail him out. Walter bluffed,
kicked the
blanket entirely off and crossed his arms behind his back in classic
macho
pose. "You like what you see? Get an eye full, Krycek,"
he challenged.
Krycek looked amused and strolled over as if strutting to an
invisible
sound track, something with a drumbeat, something wild, unpredictable
and
sexy. Krycek sat on the bed and said, "Keep your hands just
like that."
Skinner's erection deflated immediately as he saw the palm
pilot. "No," he
said, trying to sound commanding instead of pleading. "Just
kill me. Just do
it. Stop playing with me."
Krycek said, "I wish I could say this wasn't going to
hurt, but it will."
He leaned over, close enough to kiss, one arm on each side of
Walter's goose
pimpled chest. He said, "You've been a good boy, Walter,
a very good boy.
Couldn't have done much better myself, taking care of Mulder so
I'm going
give you something."
Walter was oddly distracted. The left arm had brushed his side
and it felt
wrong, stiff, rigid, and unnatural. He was tempted to grab it
and see what
was going on with Krycek now. For every misery that Alex Krycek
had
inflicted, it seemed as if fate slapped him right back. Krycek
followed his
gaze and asked, "You think I'm sexy, Walter? I used to see
the way you looked
at me when I was your adorable little agent. You ever think that
if you had
made the first move, it would have been you and I not Mulder and
me?"
Krycek actually closed his eyes, lids colored with nature's
palette, dusky,
mysterious lids and those lashes, Walter had dreamed of them when
he was not
dreaming of Fox Mulder's lush, ripe lower lip. Hell, the best
dreams involved
both of the young men. Even now, even terrified and infuriated,
he couldn't
help being fascinated with Alex Krycek. Those eyes opened and
the man licked
his lips as if he as well had been dreaming of Mulder's honey
colored skin
and the taste of his mouth.
Krycek smiled slightly and said, "Anyway, I intercepted
your boy and I did
notice a certain resemblance to me, thank you. I came here to
set you free"
Krycek added, "and I mean that in a good way. Yeah, I am
going to deactivate
those nanobytes. It's going to hurt and you won't feel very good,
but I'm
going to take good care of you, just you see."
It was like an itching, burning pressure all over him. It was
almost like
the time when he had died of these very same things. Terrified
and in pain,
Walter listened to that indescribable voice, that husky, rough-edged
rumble,
with the bedroom whisper undertones. Krycek said, "It's going
to be better.
Damn, I know this is bad, but I've had worse, Skinner, believe
me. You feel
any better? You need some water? The bathroom again? Come on;
let me help
you. Almost done now, Skinner, don't you worry."
During one of the stumbling trips to throw up or to sit racked
on the
toilet as his guts tried to expel themselves, Skinner saw what
was wrong with
the arm. Krycek had taken one glove off with the jacket that now
lay over the
top of the comfortable chair by the window. The other had stayed
until Krycek
tried to help him take a sponge bath. With a blush, and Skinner
was surprised
that the man had a blush left; he had drawn off the other glove.
Skinner had
grimaced as he saw his vision of a perfect, naked, submissive
Krycek in his
arms was never going to be granted in this life.
Skinner awoke and he noted that the linen had been changed
and he had been
sponged clean. Krycek was sleeping next to him; his clothes and
the
prosthetic arm lay across the room. Skinner could see the edge
of the Glock
peeking out from the pillow. Krycek's cheek was rumpled from sleep,
folds of
the pillowslip imprinted on the rosy skin. Krycek pursed his lips
wistfully
then rubbed his nubbin of a nose over the white linen case. Stealthily,
Skinner reached for the gun. Like lightening, the sweet sleeping
boy was
banished by an alert tense face.
Krycek questioned, "What's it going to take, Skinner,
to make you believe I
just came to make things even? Don't you remember one moment of
last night?"
Skinner said, "We're not even yet; I think I have said
that before. I do
remember, Krycek, and I am just fool enough to believe you are
telling the
truth. You didn't just sit there and let me squirm this time."
Krycek asked, "So what's the deal? I'm not asking that
you canonize me or
anything. I just want to leave off the danse macabre the next
time we meet."
Skinner said, "It seems to me that I was about to have
a nice evening with
a friend before you decided that this room was your own private
St.
Elsewhere."
A corner of the cat mouth twitched with amusement. He said,
"Hell, Skinner,
I just thought you wanted to play doctor with me. I thought when
you hauled
my ass in to beat me when I was chained on your balcony that the
belt was
your idea of foreplay, but I was wrong."
Skinner reached out to draw back the sheet, watching Krycek's
expression.
He said, "I'm not a rapist, Krycek, but things haven't changed.
I know I was
never your first choice, but I thought I was somewhere on the
list."
"Yeah, I liked older guys a little back then." Krycek
answered, "Did you
notice that there's something missing besides my pudgy baby cheeks?"
Skinner said, "I can see that without my glasses. Do you
really think
anything could change my desire for you ... When the stars threw
down their
spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his
work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?"
Krycek smiled at that and said, "Mulder never bothered
with much poetry,
but then he never need to do anything other than to reach for
me. So you
think I'm a tiger, huh? What does that mean? A fancy way of saying
I remind
you of a wild beast or do you, maybe, like tigers?"
Skinner stroked the velvety flesh of the belly and sad, "I'm
reminded of
the adage, the one about riding the tiger, but yet, who wouldn't
be tempted.
Make it even for me, Kry..Alex. Just one time, just one time,
give me what I
desire."
Krycek sat up and carefully moved the gun across the room.
He said, "Okay,
just because, just because I can't show this to him. Hell, if
you still want
this messed up body, you can have it. Just wait a bit, I'll grab
a quick
shower."
Skinner brushed his teeth and shaved. He felt clean although
he swore he
must have been in some other world when he slept through the pretty
fantasy
of Alex's hands moving over him, anointing his sweating body with
soap and
water, perhaps, pausing to admire the sweep of his chest, the
might of his
shoulders... if he didn't cool his thoughts, he would come from
his thoughts
and never get the offered treat. Leaving the bathroom to Alex,
he laid back
the cover and made sure the lubrication and condoms were in reach.
Alex came out of the bathroom naked, his skin glowed in the
sensual lighting
provided by this place. His damaged beauty just made it more real.
The smooth
slide of his body, the silken movement as he glided to the bed
was a dance
that Skinner could appreciate. He stood over the bed smiling slightly.
Skinner reached for him, jerking him hard down on the bed, rolling
on top of
Alex with the momentum of the motion. Skinner watched the first
response,
that sneer of defiance that sought to hide the man's fear. He
felt Alex's
body slackening under his as the mocking expression faded and
the face put on
yet another mask, this one wearing a concupiscent expression.
"Yeah, do it to me, Walter, make me feel good." Alex purred.
"I am. I will" Said Skinner, nuzzling that beautiful
neck. He framed Alex
with his arms, feeling very powerful and enchanted to finally
have at least
one of his dreams in reach. Alex drew him down into a moaning
kiss. Skinner
felt Alex's hand caressing his back, stopping to explore the powerful
muscles
along the way.
"Damn, you don't feel like Mulder!" Alex remarked.
He slyly pinched
Skinner's firm ass cheek and said, "You feel good though."
Skinner said nothing. He was kissing his way down Alex's stomach,
hands
gently exploring every curve and hollow. He paused at the minute
depression
below Alex's collarbone, nibbling gently until Alex squirmed for
him and
pushed his head lower. Alex whispered in a pleased voice, "You
gonna do that
for me? I wouldn't have thought you were the type."
Skinner grinned and said, "Then let me surprise you."
Hell, Skinner knew he couldn't compete with true love, but
he could at least
show Alex that he missed something with his choice. He had no
problem with
anything Krycek could imagine. He knew who the hell he was and
was confident
that he was in control no matter what they did.
Alex was so sensitive and responsive. No wonder Mulder couldn't
find anyone
that he liked as much. Alex smelled like a cat, a clean cat, but
definitely
not neutered. Skinner began to tease Alex's cock with whispering
strokes of
his tongue. The smooth thick head struck him as interesting in
texture, he
moved around it, darting his tongue enticingly until he had to
hold Alex down
to keep him from thrusting hard up at him.
With amusement, Skinner asked, "What's the matter, Alex?
Don't you think I
know what I'm doing?"
Alex answered only with a moan. He arched off the bed, that
delightful all
out surrender to pleasure that Skinner adored in his lovers. Skinner
moved
down the shaft, exploring the nerve-rich under surface of the
plump cock. He
stretched his tongue out to hit places where he hoped even this
wanton had
seldom been touched. Alex whimpered and his head rolled on the
pillow. His
eyes were like green fire and his mouth opened in a delicious
moan. Skinner
held Alex's legs apart, open to him. His thumbs massaged circles
as he began
the rapid movements that would end this. With a wild cry, Krycek
shot. His
semen tasted as sweet as he seemed in this moment. Skinner swallowed,
savoring him. His tongue swirled a few more times until Alex sighed
and gave
that small pull away that said, enough.
Skinner could wait. He moved back up on the bed, not much surprised
when
Alex moved into his arms. A snuggler, somehow it didn't surprise
Skinner. He
had noticed how Alex had always liked to be physically close to
Mulder when
they were partners and lovers. His first clue about having lost
the race to
court beautiful young Krycek was watching Mulder in the hallway,
laying a
possessive hand on Alex's arm as they spoke. It could have passed,
as a mere
friendly gesture except Mulder was not the kind of person who
ever touched
people casually.
Skinner stroked the side of Alex's face softly, admiring the
soft skin.
"Mmm, I feel good." Alex said.
Skinner caressed and said, "Yes, you do."
Alex angled down, spending a great deal time suckling Skinner's
nipples.
Bottle-fed baby, Skinner thought, but the joke passed as the tugs
and swirls
of Alex's tongue sent messages down his spine. Alex traveled lower,
a teasing
trail of kisses ending with a sudden nip. Skinner reproved, "No
biting, no
teeth."
Alex laughed, a soft, delightful, breathy chuckle that sounded
enticing as
the rustle of a velvet gown, the soft babble of water through
mossy rocks.
"It's a jungle down here. Hmm, can't find it." Alex
reported.
Skinner said, "You must be blind then. I don't think anyone
has ever said
that I lacked in substance."
Alex said, "Nope, I have to admit that you're impressive."
Any further words were drowned in the sudden rapid assault
on Skinner's
cock. He knew that after all his anticipation that he wouldn't
last long, but
Alex was blitzing him with one sensation after the other. That
was a hell of
a talented mouth! It took will power to move, but damn it, after
waiting so
long, he wanted to see that lustrous head of hair bobbing between
his legs.
Skinner saw Alex's eyes come up to meet his, dancing in enjoyment
of his
power. The eyes fluttered as Alex took him deeply, letting Skinner's
cock
merge to the limit. Alex was nearly bent over him, working at
this with an
eagerness that suggested he was turned on by what was happening.
Skinner
prided himself on his control letting Alex make this his command
performance.
With a shudder and a hoarse yell, Skinner felt the world blot
out
delightfully. Panting, he lay on the bed, feeling as if he snapped
every
muscle in his body when he came, leaving him so loose-limbed that
he could
not have moved if the holy grail danced through the room.
Alex insinuated himself into Skinner's arms after a casual
clean up. He
said, "I'm tired. Call them and tell them you need the room
for another eight
hours."
Skinner snorted and said, "You want to use take a nap
in this expensive
whorehouse, using my credit card?"
Alex blinked sleepily and said, "Make it worth your while
in the morning,
Walter."
Skinner said, "That's a deal. Call me sir, though. I like that."
"Sir Walter? Okay, gonna rescue me from my plight? Throw
your cloak down so
the dirt doesn't cling to my dainty feet?" Alex asked.
Skinner said, "Shut up, Alex, and your feet are hardly dainty."
Alex moved to lie closer, an arm full of affectionate assassin,
but he
hardly looked the part like this, dusky lashes brushing his cheeks,
a
peaceful expression painted on his boyish face. One last sleepy
blink and he
was out, lips parted for soft deep breaths, either a real show
of trust or
the man was that tired. Skinner moved carefully, trying not to
disturb his
sleeping lover. He thought he could surprise the man. He would
genuinely do
something knightly and noble. Skinner chided himself, something
idiotic, but
much as he would like his pretty fantasy, he knew that neither
Alex nor
Mulder would ever be totally content with him. They wanted and
needed each
other and he had an idea that would make that happen.
Alex smirked as he called up his choice. This one looked enough
like Mulder
to be a younger brother or a clone. Missed his mark there. Should
have put in
an order for a Mulder clone before all the old men and lab geeks
went to
their fiery graves. Still even a sweet, pliant Mulder clone wasn't
going to
be the real thing. No, hell, Alex had slept with handsomer men.
It was
Mulder's mind that he adored although he wouldn't scorn the wrapping
paper to
get to it. Maybe that was why he enjoyed screwing with Mulder's
reality so
much. Maybe he just had a great unrequited desire to fuck his
mind. And,
right, that explained why his black little heart beat faster every
time
Mulder even looked at him, stupidly excited although too often
the look
seemed to be calling up a diagram from the butcher to decide where
to carve
the first steak out of him.
Alex watched the tall, lean and lovely man peel off the expensive
suit in a
graceful strip tease. He really should have directed the man to
knock off the
flourishes, but he seemed to enjoy his little theatrical display
for one.
Alex had to admit his Fox was foxy, but he didn't have those moves.
Mulder
couldn't dance if you had a gun aimed at his feet, but he knew
where to put
his parts when it counted.
It had surprised Alex when Skinner turned down the chance for
a return
match. Although Skinner was not his type physically, Alex had
liked the night
they had spent together. Skinner had been tender and he really
was
surprisingly talented. Yeah, that cock was a bit on the large
size for
comfort, but Skinner had kissed the owie before and after. He
even was
willing to return the favor and the guy genuinely liked to be
fucked, which
was a real surprise.
However, when Alex had admitted that he was not adverse to
another tryst,
Skinner had showed him the profile of the Mulder like artist and
bought him
two nights of that. This third performance was on Alex's own credit...well,
not exactly. Actually, Spender hardly ever checked to make sure
all his
established alternatives with lines of credits were not leading
amusing lives
of their own.
As the Mulder substitute sauntered to his bed, Alex sighed.
No matter how
good this man was; it was never going to be quite right. Mulder,
Mulder was
the one he craved as his heroin and no methadone would suffice
for long.
Mulder looked out into the night. It was snowing and that
made him think
about Russia and Alex. He touched his cheek where that kiss seemed
to burn
and he mourned. He rose and went to the coat rack, spinning the
billiard ball
finale as he retrieved his coat. He felt a sting of shamed conscience
as he
considered his destination. What was he to do? Wait around like
a princess in
a tower until Alex chose to rescue him? He wished he could go
to Seattle.
Rodney's letters to him were increasing upbeat. The man who owned
him had
been found murdered and no new evil pimp had come forward to claim
his body
or his soul. Rodney would sleep with him for sympathy if for no
other reason.
However, Skinner had him stuck to the local area, lecturing new
agents about
serial killers and the supernatural.
Mulder had taken to trailing Skinner for a while and noticing
him visiting
a private club. A little investigation had identified the place
as a sex club
and Mulder had been intrigued. This place was discreet. You showed
your pass
and were let into a private, soundproof booth to select your partner
of the
hour or the night. Mulder hadn't bothered Skinner about his habit.
He simply
joined after confirming that they catered to a broad array of
tastes.
Mulder caught a cab, getting out a block away to avoid a
trace. He trudged
through the frozen slush in the road. It had warmed briefly just
long enough
to pack the snow and turn it into a volcanic landscape of peaks,
depressions,
and mounds. The trash uncovered was unbelievable even in this
relatively posh
area of town. Mulder noted the snow was covering the mess, which
was a
blessing. He waited in a doorway, looking back as the snow filled
in his
tracks. He didn't want someone to stalk him as he had stalked
Skinner. He
wasn't even sure why he had done that; had it been boredom, anxiety,
or a
desire to gain some petty advantage over the assistant director?
Sighing, Mulder took the main elevator to the lobby where
he inserted a key
card to gain entry. As always, there was a delay to make sure
that no patron
passed another. A receptionist directed him to a private booth
immediately.
The booth was appointed like a broker's cubby. Mulder sat in the
leather
armchair and poured himself a drink from the decanter that sat
ready on the
small table. The loose-leaf notebook sat at ready, but Mulder
preferred the
video presentations instead. He picked up the remote and turned
on the small,
flat screen monitor. He entered his usual preference, dark hair,
green or
hazel eyes, medium complexion, male, between twenty-one and thirty-five,
five
feet eleven to six feet three inches tall, weight one fifty to
two hundred
pounds. He rapidly selected, Bottom, mild bondage, mild BDSM,
and waited. A
series of thumb nails flickered and Mulder leaned forward to study
them.
Somebody new was in the stable. Mmm, now he looked like Alex,
just a little
younger and plumper. He clicked the image to get the thumbnail
to enlarge and
speak. The boyish young man fluttered long beautiful eyelashes
and spoke,
"Hi, I'm Lloyd. Hey, ya' wanna play? Gotta warn you; I play
rough sometimes.
See ya, babe." The brunette beauty let his terry cloth robe
open just a bit.
Mulder could have drooled on the screen. God, perfect, where did
they find
that one? He could almost believe it was Alex.
Quickly, Mulder keyed in the identification for Lloyd and
smiled as he
received the confirmation that he was available. He used the credit
card he
kept in the name of Marty Walters and paid for his treat. An expressionless
attendant led him into a small elevator that was lined with mirrors
and
ornately trimmed with brass etchings. Mulder tipped the tuxedoed
staff member
and entered the room. He hadn't specified a setting and blinked
with surprise
to see what the courtesan had chosen.
This was jailhouse motif. The room was divided in half. The
entry contained
the usual well-appointed bed, television and VCR, wardrobe for
costumes and
toys, and mini-bar for snacks and drinks. The smaller area was
a realistic
cell, bars, hard little bunk, combined sink and urinal, and drab
institutional paint. A man sat on the bunk, dressed in a prisoner's
coverall,
his knees spayed wide, and his feet clad in the slippers issued
to high-risk
prisoners. The man cast a surly gaze in Mulder's direction and
slumped back
on the bunk as if he was alone. He raised a leg, leaning it against
the wall,
and slowly unzipped his garment. He revealed a white V-neck tee
shirt and as
the zipper lowered to the end, a neat, smooth landing of black
glossy pubic
hair.
Mulder walked over and gripped the bars of the mock cell.
He had lost
control of this scene, but it was delightful chaos that ran along
his nerves.
Lloyd growled in a voice that shared some of Alex's delightful
tones, "You a
cop?"
Mulder startled and almost nodded or worse explained that
he was an FBI
agent. He realized that this was a part of the game that they
would play and
he said, "Yeah, get your ass out here, kid. I heard you were
carrying. Come
on, strip for me and spread them."
Lloyd stood up and toed off the slippers. His face was a blank,
but his eyes
challenged Mulder. He slid the overall down, showing that he had
chosen to
wear no underwear at all. He let the hideous garment sink to his
feet and
stepped out. He posed there, rolling a corner of his tee shirt
up teasingly.
Mulder liked the picture that made. Mulder hoarsely ordered, "Take
it off."
Lloyd took his time, letting that cheap white undershirt
slide over the
hard lines of his body. He looked a little different from both
Rodney and
Alex as if they had all started as the same man, until life molded
them in
different directions. His body was molded, proportioned with an
almost
inhuman evenness. The shirt went over his head and he threw the
shirt at the
bars. Mulder walked over to the bed and moved back one of the
panels to
remove the lubricant. He noticed a snarl of contempt on the man's
face. "You
don't need that." He snapped.
Mulder shook his head and said, "Grab those ankles."
His ass was as toned as the rest of him. He must have spent
hours in the
gym. Mulder saw a few regular scars contrasting with the smooth
flesh. They
looked relatively recent although not fresh enough to be other
than pinkish
lines. Mulder used the lubricant to mock the process of search,
the only
thing he really wanted to find was...an arch and a cry told him
he succeeded.
Mulder stroked the same spot again then shoved the man forward,
making him
crab walk to the bed. He didn't for some reason feel the urge
to be gentle
that had overwhelmed him with Rodney. This man genuinely seemed
to want his
abuse.
Mulder shoved the man over the edge of the bed and ordered,
"Keep it
there." His hands shook as he drew on the condom. He felt
angry, with
himself, with Alex, and with this man because he was not who he
wanted. He
entered roughly, listening to the man's breath expel. The voice,
velvet
sheathed switchblade, groaned. "Yeah, that's it. Make me.
Hurt me.
Harder-harder!"
Mulder muttered, "Shut up." He pushed in faster,
his strokes pistoning. He
watched Lloyd's fists pound the bed as he uttered grunts of pain
that still
seemed in part, arousal. Mulder finished, tying off the condom
with practiced
ease and casting it in the convenient garbage can. He felt and
found that
Lloyd had not come. Frowning, he ordered, "Turn over"
Lloyd sneered at him when he faced Mulder and said, "Is
that the best you
can do? Do you think that was rough?"
The slap felt good to Mulder and he did it again, watching
the face turn
red. A hard clout caught Lloyd's nose and the trickle of blood
suddenly
reminded him of his confrontation with Alex in Hong Kong. Lloyd
reached his
fingers up to touch the blood and he smiled. "That's more
like it."
Mulder was shocked; both at his own actions and that he was
becoming
aroused again. He jerked Lloyd down flat on the bed and spread
his legs
roughly. He didn't taste like Alex. He tasted bitter and salty.
Alex always
seemed sweet to him like the decadent dessert that he was.
Mulder slid his lips down the length of hard cock. Lloyd
protested, "Hey,
that's not what I do. Fuck me, that's what you paid for."
Mulder said, "I paid to do anything that lets you walk
out of here able to
work tomorrow. I want to do this."
The way Lloyd reacted; he hadn't had many blowjobs. He moaned,
tossing his
head, the short, military, dumb ass haircut rubbed against the
pillows.
"Uhhh," he groaned, "no, I don't want to..."
He arched and shoved deeper into
Mulder's mouth. Mulder held him down, keeping those legs spread
open,
enjoying the vulnerable sprawl of them. He took the man deeper,
listening to
the voice, for the moment pretending that this was Alex.
When Lloyd came, Mulder quickly moved on top. He didn't want
to penetrate
him again, not the way Lloyd reacted, as that was a solicited
act of rape.
Instead, he whispered, "Hold your legs together." The
slide of their flesh
was enough, thrusts made slick by sweat. Mulder closed his mouth
over
Lloyd's, imitating his movements with the rub and probe of his
tongue. He
felt the man's mouth try to close and pull away. He jerked Lloyd's
face back,
wondering at this game and why it pleased him.
Lloyd ducked his face aside and down, biting Mulder hard
on the shoulder
and whispered, "Not like that, you have to do it hard. You
have to punish me.
Come on, do it for me. You know you want it. You know."
The strangely erotic demand finished him. Mulder sagged exhausted
on top of
Lloyd until the whore shoved him aside and said, "Get off
of me, you pervert."
Mulder said, "You are trying so hard to make me hurt
you. I should just
oblige. But I'm a contrary man; all my friends say so. So, you
know, I'm
going to frustrate you. I'm not going to hit you, Lloyd. I think
I am going
to make love to you instead."
Mulder knew that he shouldn't go back, but he reserved Lloyd
the next
night, ordering one of the ordinary rooms. Lloyd entered sullenly,
allowing
Mulder to undress him with limbs woodenly cooperative. His green
eyes were
resentful and every touch was stiff. Even so he was beautiful,
Mulder
remembered when Alex had looked this young. But even if Lloyd
was youthful,
he lacked something. Yes, the stubborn refusal to cringe from
pain was
familiar, but Alex had never looked for violence from him. Every
time, he hit
Alex, Alex had shown in his eyes the question, his anger that
Mulder betrayed
what they had been with his actions. Lloyd wanted the pain. Mulder
had the
feeling that he craved punishment.
Perhaps it was cruel to coax him to pleasure instead. When
he forced him to
orgasm, Lloyd wept as he subsided. Mulder reached to comfort him
and was
surprised when the young man allowed him to hold him. "Why
don't you tell me
what's wrong?" Mulder said.
Lloyd shook his head. Mulder remembered Rodney and asked,
"Is someone
forcing you to do this? Do you need money? Protection? Let me
help you."
Lloyd pulled away, sitting hunched over on the side of the
bed. He said,
"You want to help someone or what ever? Go find what guy
you are trying to
make me be, because I'm not him. If you knew, if you understood
what I really
was, you'd hate me as much as I hate myself."
Lloyd stood up, grabbing his clothes and he said, "You
can tell the
management that you want your money back. I'm not staying and
you can't make
me. Don't ask for me again."
When Mulder went back the next night, Lloyd's thumbnail was
gone. He called
the management and they said, "His resume was not as he represented
so his
services were no longer desired."
Mulder snapped, "Well, I desire them. How do I reach him?"
The purring voice replied, "Lloyd has left the area
rather suddenly. He
didn't leave a forwarding address."
Mulder walked out of the place, but he had no intention of
letting it lie
there. If he couldn't have Alex, he would have Lloyd. Actually
he was rather
pleased by the news. He could possibly offer the young man enough
money to
make him agree to a long-term arrangement, a little apartment
somewhere and
pin money to entertain him self between visits. Mulder's cock
rose at the
prospect. He visited the Lone Gunmen and found Byers alone again.
John
shrugged and said, "As if I didn't understand obsession..."
It took several visits to hack into the Destiny Club files,
but John
succeeded and called Mulder to allow him to reap his harvest.
Lloyd was 2nd
Lt. Lloyd Hillard, formerly the US Air force finest, drummed out
a year back.
Mulder did some more hacking and found the sordid precursor to
this event.
Rape! He had been involved in a drunken episode of rape and of
an underage
girl at that! Mulder reeled back, understanding why Lloyd forced
him to enact
that play with him. All he had been was an instrument of punishment.
When
Lloyd found that he was enjoying his abuse, he had fled. God!
Mulder
shuddered, wondering what the man would do when humiliation and
role-playing
wasn't enough?
A week later, Mulder entered his usual preferences and was
surprised to see
a black screen with a glowing and pulsating question mark instead
of
thumbnails.
A message scrolled lazily across the screen, "Push enter
to choose the
mystery lover. You have thirty seconds to decide."
Mulder wanted to laugh or ask the desk about this new game,
but shrugging,
he pushed enter. As always, the attendant came promptly to guide
him. Mulder
stepped into the suite and was pleased; this was more like it.
The room held
a four-poster bed, made up with numerous brocaded pillows and
plush spread,
all matching the draperies. There was even a fireplace, with a
warm, real
fire, the crepitating sounds adding an illusion of intimacy to
the room. The
sideboard was laid with a miniature feast of finger foods. Mulder
was amused,
titillated. He hoped the man, he hoped his surprise was male,
was as charming
as this room embodied.
To his surprise, the door to the outside opened. At first, he
thought it
was Lloyd and had to admit that he was disappointed. Truthfully,
the violence
of his encounters with the man didn't meet his need. Mulder frowned,
as the
Alex look alike seemed more surprised then he was.
While in yet another room, a man with hair like dark rich Russian
Amber met
another who boasted of eyes as mixed in hue as the oceanic depths.
They
stared at each other and then each said, "Haven't I seen
you around as in
working here?"
"Yeah," said the green eyed pretty. "The weirdest
thing happened. I was on
my way to one of my regulars and management tells me that I should
go to this
room instead and do what ever the other guy wants to do."
"And the same thing happened to me. In fact, my regular
looks a bit like
you except he's missing an arm." The tawny tall charmer replied.
"So here we are, two incredibly sexy guys, being paid
a hundred dollars an
hour for our services and in this great room." Mr. Dark-haired
and
Lush-Lashes remarked.
The tawny lovely lad looked at his coworker through his lovely
long lashes
and asked, "So what do you want to do? Make love?"
The dark haired man sighed and said, "Nah, too much
like work. Let's break
out the chips and beer, kick back and watch football."
"I like your ideas, man," his companion agreed.
And thus two most
entertaining men had their first ever paid vacation and found
it very
relaxing.
Alex fumed silently. Double-booked in deed, what kind of
service was that?
He, or rather Spender's false identity was paying a pretty price
for this
membership and service. Then, they told him he was getting a free
night with
a mystery artist. Great, somehow, he imagined some tattooed Dom
waiting for
him. He was hardly in the mood for that. He almost turned around.
He knew
where Skinner lived. Hell, he knew where Mulder lived too... Shaking
his
head, Alex told himself that he was not in the mood for Skinner
and he was a
bit unsure of his welcome anyway. Skinner's rejection had shaken
his
self-confidence a bit. As for Mulder, the best Alex could hope
for was a
beating from him.
Alex entered and stood stunned. Wow, this one was Mulder in
exacting detail!
That sulky lip, those incredible hazel eyes, gold and brown, and
that silly
expression of shock were all those of his lover. Alex took a deep
breath and
said, "God, now I'd pay double! Where did they find you,
Foxy?"
The man stared back and then said, "Alex? Alex is that really you?"
Alex started to back away, to turn and run. What kind of
joke was this to
send him to the real Fox Mulder? Mulder uttered a cry of pain
and Alex had to
look to make sure he was all right. Mulder used the moment to
catch up with
him and trapped him against the door, pushing him back into it.
That
touch...Alex felt his limbs go limp. He was torpid with lust,
stupid with
love and Mulder was probably going to kill him.
"Alex, Alex, Alex, I can't believe I found you."
Mulder murmured, his hands
pushing Alex's jacket aside, dropping it with a heavy clank of
various
knives, brass knuckles, and other essentials. Alex moaned, allowing
Mulder to
start on his shirt before he remembered what the thick sweater
concealed.
"No!" Mulder screamed and Alex turned away; he
couldn't bear to see the
repulsion in his former lover's face. Mulder pulled the sweater
away, lifting
it off and letting it join the jacket. "I didn't mean for
this to happen to
you."
Alex reached for a sneer. He wasn't going to do what he had
done in the
past, submitting, trying to win Mulder back with his body; no
more chances
now that he wasn't beautiful anymore. He said, "Bet this
was your idea,
getting me sent here. Well, I don't always have to pay for it,
you know. Even
like this, there are guys who want me. Your boss for instance!"
Mulder's face lost its look of horror. He wore that enraged
expression that
now seemed more familiar then the enraptured one Alex used to
see. He pushed
Alex back, one hand reaching for Alex's zipper. "He had better
keep his hands
off you or I'll kill him. I swear that I will. You're mine, Alex,
mine." The
damn zipper wouldn't release and Mulder yanked, breaking it. Alex
wondered
briefly how he was going get out of here with his clothes like
this and then
it hardly mattered.
And that last 'mine' was buried in a kiss. They fought each
other,
struggling against that door to rip off each other's clothing,
to tear the
years and the differences away. Alex leaned back, his hips forward
as
Mulder's mouth devoured him. Mulder's lips were sweet consumption.
His hands
were greedy heated things as they moved relentlessly conquering
Alex without
a battle. Mulder pulled away his boots, his socks, freed his legs
of his
jeans. Mulder knelt there as if in worship for a moment. He said,
"You are
more beautiful than I even remembered." Mulder stood and
he held out his
hand. "Come to bed with me. Come back to me. I don't care
what you've done. I
want you back in my life. I want you to stay."
It must have been levitation. Alex didn't remember walking.
There was no
finesse to what they did. They were too frantic to remember anything
but
need. One moment they were kissing, trying to touch each other
all over, to
reclaim this territory of the flesh and soul from which they both
had been
such lonely exiles. The next, they were momentarily satiated,
lying together,
old love words back on their lips, the past reeled back to that
first time
when it seemed to Alex that he could do anything if Mulder loved
him.
Mulder rolled on him and said, "You're not leaving me,
anymore, and no one
touches you! Not Marita, not Skinner, no one, but me! Do you understand?"
Alex nodded, wondering how Mulder knew about Marita. He asked,
"What about
you? Diana? Rodney?"
Mulder said, "No one, but you."
Alex said, "Good." He flipped Mulder over, wanting
to show him that he
might have lost a limb, but he was far from helpless. Alex grinned
down and
said, "We have the whole night to figure out how this works."
He lowered his
lips to meet Mulder's. This was heaven. This was home and he thanked
whatever
providence brought it about.
Walter sighed and turned off the video feed. He had done
his good deed for
the century and he wished it didn't feel so hollow. He could have
watched
them make love. It would have been his just reward for all the
money and the
mechanisms that it took to set the comedy of errors up, but he
chose not to
be tormented by a vision that he could not share. Maybe he would
tell them
one of these days or maybe the bright boys would figure it out.
Meanwhile, he
had a trip out of town to meet his old friend Commissioner Scalli.
Supposedly, the man had a bright ambitious boy that needed a sponsor
to the
FBI academy. Walter smirked, Ricky Caruso, another Italian kid.
Scalli did
like those old country names. Skinner smiled and decided if the
boy were any
good, he'd give him a trial here after the academy, something
to take his
mind off Fox Mulder and Alex Krycek.
Skinner stretched. Hell, maybe he'd meet someone new...he'd
paid his dues
and played cupid. Now, it was his turn. Let's see what providence
could do
for him.
The end.