Well, I have to admit defeat. I can't come up with a story for this month's challenge.

The weather here, usually still winter-like, has been not only spring, but almost summer this week. Couldn't think of anything as angstsy as SR819.


Just a little something brought on by the weather...



by Josan


The usual disclaimers...cc and 1013....etc....




Skinner rested his shoulder against the door frame and watched his lover sleeping on the bed.

The weather was still hot from the midday sun and Krycek lay sprawled on the bed uncovered.

Skinner smiled. Even now, he felt attracted to that body, spread out as it was as if waiting to be judged.

It was thicker than it had been when they had first gotten together. Krycek was eating on a regular basis these days, but back then, he had seemed perpetually hungry. Now he could tease him about it, about how he had worried about coming home one night and finding his leather furniture half devoured.

And he'd been hungry for more than food back then. Hungry for kindness. Hungry for gentleness. Hungry for love. And terrified that his hunger would be used against him.

Skinner remembered the mornings when Krycek awoke, eyes wary, waiting to be rejected. When his need for touch was overwhelmed by his expectation of pain. He would freeze the first time Skinner reached out for him that day, slowly accepting his touch until by night he was almost melting between his hands.

And so hesitant at reaching out himself. Almost as if he expected Skinner to disappear in a puff of smoke.

Or to throw him out if he didn't please Skinner enough.

The first time they'd had a fight, Skinner hadn't immediately understood why Krycek had begun packing his knapsack. When it dawned on him that the man was leaving before he was told to leave, he'd gently taken the knapsack out of Krycek's hands, pushed him down onto the bed and made love to him until he didn't have enough energy to even consider moving off the bed. He'd kept him there for the next couple of days as well until Krycek had finally accepted that there would be bad days among the good. And that it was okay.

Of course that was then. Now, Krycek gave as good as he got. The man had an incredibly long fuse, but when he blew...Skinner grinned...when he blew, it was spectacular. Like fireworks. And, like fireworks, quickly over.

As he watched, Krycek moved, stretching his arm up and over his head, twisting his body in that long pull that always went straight to Skinner's groin.

Krycek accompanied this move with a throated groan/purr. "You're looking at me again."

Skinner moved away from the door and came up to the bed. "So sue me. I like looking at you."

Krycek partially opened his eyes, "I thought you said it was too hot for anything strenuous."

"It is. But this is just foreplay. I can indulge in that no matter what the temperature is." Skinner sat down next to his lover, smoothed back the thick sweat- dampened hair. Once so dark, now salt and peppered. More salt than pepper. Well, that was to be expected: his own narrower fringe was white.

Krycek's hand came up, fingers combing the light grey patch on his chest. Skinner knew it would soon drop to caress the darker patch at his loins. Krycek occasionally teased him about the snow on the roof hiding the fire in the furnace.

"What do you want to do this afternoon?" Krycek tried hard to look very innocent as he asked that. Skinner grinned, bent and placed a kiss next to Krycek's navel. He let his tongue dip in and around the indentation: Krycek was not the only one who could tease.

"We could go sight-seeing. Shame to be this close to George Town and not visit it."

"Too hot," said Krycek after thinking about the suggestion.

"We could get in some more scuba diving. There are still parts of the reef we haven't explored."

"More fun in the morning, before the sun's high." Krycek moved his hips so that Skinner's mouth would have access to the sensitive skin where torso met thigh.

"Body surfing?" Skinner looked up to find green eyes peering at him from under those thick eyelashes. A hint of a smile was playing over the mouth that was his alone.

He loved seeing Krycek, water beading over his oiled body, that body slightly tilted to compensate for the lost arm, riding the top of a wave. And laughing. For some reason, water liberated Krycek of his restraints, allowed him to abandon his self-control. There was nothing more beautiful, thought Skinner, than his lover, standing in water to his waist, head thrown back to the sun, joyously laughing.

Krycek's hand had begun playing with Skinner's cock, holding it, lightly stroking it. "How about if we just go for a walk along the beach?" he countered.

"So you can check out the beach boys?" Skinner's tone was light, but Krycek knew that Skinner had his moments when he thought he was going to be replaced with a younger model. Not that there was even a remote chance of that happening. But somehow it evened out the insecurities Krycek had, would probably always have, about this relationship of theirs.

"Actually," Krycek slid down so that his mouth was by Skinner's hip, "I noticed that yesterday they seemed more interested in checking you out."

Skinner snorted. Krycek raised himself slightly, let his head rest on Skinner's thigh. "You don't believe me?"

"Alex. I'm almost seventy years old: eighteen year old boys don't look at men of my age."

"They look. Just remember they can't touch." His voice was very insistent on that.

Skinner looked at the face watching him. Twenty years together and they were still proprietorial with each other. He placed his hands on either side of his partner's face, pulled gently up for his kiss.

"Yes, love," he whispered.


George Town, capital of the Cayman Islands.