|Primary Characters:||Skinner, Krycek|
|Warning:||m/m sex, some violence, some bad language|
|Description:||Skinner gets an unexpected visit in his apartment. Unforeseen things happen.|
A D Skinner was leaving his office. It was a regular Wednesday evening, and nothing new or interesting that needed his attention had come up for nearly two weeks, but that wasn’t what was on his mind. Since he had made a drunken pass at Mulder, and given away his feelings for him, things hadn’t been good.
It was a strain watching Mulder at work, especially since it was obvious that something had happened between Mulder and Scully. From the looks of things, it seemed that Scully had been much luckier than he had. Oh, he and Mulder had had sex of a kind, but it hadn’t left Skinner feeling any more satisfied, not deep down.
Not that he really had had much hope to begin with. Mulder wasn’t into men, that much had been pretty much obvious from the start. That hadn’t kept Skinner from wishing for something else though.
Still, how could he blame Mulder? Even Skinner felt something for Scully. There was something about her that got to you after a while. Mulder on the other hand, was something else entirely. He got to you right from the start. One look and you were hopelessly lost. Clearly Scully had been, just as much as Skinner. It should have been a bond between them, only Scully was the one who ended up with the prize.
That could have made Skinner look at her, and even Mulder, with resentment, but he didn’t. They had been through too much together for that. After everything that had happened, they were still his closest friends, although he didn’t find it easy to open up to them. Now, maybe he never would be able to.
It was difficult to focus on the more important issues. Like the problem with Krycek. It had been a long time now since the Russian double or triple agent had used some sort of implant on Skinner, to control him. He now held Skinner’s life in his hands. Anything that Skinner did, might be under Krycek’s observation.
That had made it nearly impossible to work with the X files. Anything that Skinner knew, Krycek too might know, and any decision Skinner made, might be dictated by Krycek. So Skinner had done his best to stay away from the X files.
After Mulder’s strange condition since he had come into contact with the mysterious artefact from Africa some time ago, he knew about Skinner and Krycek. That made it easier. Now Mulder and Scully didn’t confide in him, unless it was about a straightforward FBI case.
Krycek hadn’t been in touch in all that time, but Skinner didn’t let that fool him. Krycek would be back, and in the meantime, anything Skinner did or said was or could be under observation.
He had been mad to ask Mulder over to his house, but at the time, he had been feeling incredibly lonely and vulnerable and anyway, his apartment was regularly checked for surveillance devices. There shouldn’t have been anyone listening in or watching.
Of course, you never knew with Krycek. For all Skinner knew, he might even have been in the apartment, or close by.
Going back to that place didn’t seem appealing, but what other choice was there? Krycek would always find him. Skinner just had to face the fact that he belonged to Krycek now. Oh, he could go away, take a vacation, even give up his job, if Krycek would let him, but he would never be free.
So he forced himself to face the situation, just like he had all those years ago in Vietnam. Life could throw all kinds of things in your way, and the true test of the man was the way he accepted them.
Skinner took his briefcase and walked out past his secretary, nodded briefly at the girl and walked out to his car. It didn’t take him long to get to his apartment. Not nearly as much time as he wanted it to.
The real reason he hadn’t moved back in with his wife, wasn’t his attraction for Mulder. He had had those kinds of feelings for as long as he could remember, but being the man he was, he was unable to live that way. It was unacceptable to him.
So he had married, and for a while he and his wife had even known some happiness. Anything was better than being alone, but with Krycek around it wouldn’t be fair to her.
In the hall he put down his briefcase, hung up his coat and was about to go into his bedroom to change for an evening in front of the tv. Suddenly he froze. Someone was in the apartment. That could only be one person. Despite the fear of the implant, Skinner tensed up as if trying to ward off an attack, but why would Krycek just ram into him like in a common fight, when all he had to do was press some button? The excruciating pain would make Skinner do whatever Krycek told him to. So now the time had come. When the attack came, it wasn’t from the inside. It was a sharp blow to the head. He remembered thinking: Damn, he’s good. How could Krycek have gotten that close, without giving himself away?
When Skinner came to, he was lying on his bed, securely tied to the bedposts. The pain in his head wasn’t too bad, but it made his vision a bit blurred for a while. What was immediately obvious was that he wasn’t wearing any clothes. Now this was a new approach. For some reason he wasn’t very afraid of what Krycek would think of this time.
What was the worst that could happen? That he died? Under the circumstances that might be the best thing. Skinner raised his head and found himself looking straight into the barrel of a gun. Krycek was smiling that humorless smile that still hit you at the pit of your stomach. Evil, but handsome, that was Krycek. His eyes never gave away much, but they always drew you in, held you.
A rabbit wasn’t exactly the sort of animal Skinner normally would identify with, but being faced with that look, must be what a rabbit experienced moments before being devoured by a snake.
He was considering whether he should speak up first and demand to know what Krycek wanted this time, or just wait and let Krycek give away his hand first. What would Krycek expect or like the least? It was hard to tell with him, but it appeared the decision was made for Skinner.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. Hello there, Walter. I suppose you’re as happy to see me as I am to see you.”
“That would depend on what you’re here for.”
“Oh. I guess I should tell you about that. After all that’s only polite when you’ve come visiting. Not like the last time we met here. You note that I’m not saying the last time I was here. Just the last time you saw me. It was damned cold out there hanging from your balcony, but I guess that didn’t matter to you. It hurt like hell, just hanging by one arm, but right now I’d do anything to have two arms, no matter how badly they might hurt.”
“Get to the point, will you? Let’s get it over with.”
“I don’t think you realize the position you’re in. You know I could just bring out that remote and zap, you’d be in too much pain to come up with any smart ass remarks. So shut up and listen. You may not be the brightest of us all, but even you should be able to grasp something as simple as that.
Good, you’re finally seeing sense here. Then we can go on. I’ve come to teach you another lesson. The implant works fine when I need your help with something, but I don’t think it begins to address all the injustices you’ve done me. Maybe we should just let Mulder take the blame for this, but even so, there’s still enough for you to answer for.”
Krycek was tapping his prosthetic arm with the gun, but Skinner was too absorbed in what Krycek was saying about Mulder.
“Ah, at last, it seems I am getting your full attention. I knew it wouldn’t take much. Just the mention of golden boy. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got that situation covered. Your favorite agent might get a surprise visit too, one of these days. Oh, good, it seems I hit a nerve there. You really care about him. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?
Come on, don’t be shy. We know each other too well for that. Yes, I see. Little Fox is not only your best boy on the job, he’s also your dream date. Interesting. I wouldn’t have thought it. Though come to think of it, you seemed to take a little too much pleasure in beating me up for there not to be anything more to it than a simple thirst for revenge.”
How could he know? Skinner hadn’t given anything away, he was sure of it, but that devilish Russian seemed to have all the answers. As if he was reading Skinner’s mind, Krycek went on with his monologue.
“How did I know about your feelings for him? It’s simple. Take’s one to know one. Oh, yes, I’ve had the hots for Mulder ever since I first saw him, but don’t think that will save him, when payback time comes.”
At that Skinner couldn’t help straining to get loose, but he was too fastly secured by what, unless he was mistaken, had to be his own handcuffs. All he did was give himself away again to his enemy. So he forced himself to stop. Whatever Krycek intended doing to Mulder, Skinner would just have to trust in Mulder’s ability to stay safe.
For once he also felt a certain amount of contentment, knowing that most likely Mulder wouldn’t be alone. He would have Scully watching his back, or any other part of that enticing body, currently in her field of vision. There was no other agent that Skinner would trust more to look out for Mulder.
“I think you’ve lost your focus on me. What’s the matter? I’m not good looking enough for you? You sure didn’t think so just a few moments ago. Mulder might be the love of your life, but that hasn’t stopped you from looking, now has it? Let’s see if I can’t help you concentrate a little.”
Carefully, Krycek put down his gun on the small side table where he was sitting. It was apparently much harder than you’d think, to do something as simple as removing a jacket and a shirt, with only one arm. Skinner wasn’t entirely sure what plan Krycek had. This undressing game was not what he had expected.
Awkwardly, Krycek fumbled with his belt and finally managed to open his jeans. He pulled down the zipper, and got up to drop the jeans to the floor. All he was wearing were a pair of socks. Nothing else.
Despite everything, Skinner couldn’t help marvel at the perfection of that body. At least the shape of it. The skin was marred by terrible scars. Most of them seemed to have been made deliberately. On top of that, of course, there was that prosthetic arm. Despite all that, Krycek was beautiful. Skinner found himself admiring that body though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“What are you looking at, Walter? When was the last time you saw a body like mine? Because I’m assuming you haven’t gotten into Mulder’s pants yet. Go on, take a close look. Things won’t stay this pleasant for much longer. Now what is that? A hardon? All for me, Walter? I’m flattered, but you hate me for it, don’t you? What a shame you are so tied up… I wonder what you would have done to me otherwise?”
“Take off these cuffs, and you’ll find out.”
“Tempting, but I don’t like the odds now, with my one arm against your two, big strong ones. So what else are we going to do? Maybe I should just get on with it. No, I think we both need a little playtime. All work and no play for so very long has made Walter rather a dull boy, isn’t that right?”
Krycek moved over to the bed, leaving the gun behind. Skinner noted that fact, but since he was, just as Krycek had pointed out, still strongly secured to the bed, it just didn’t help much. His arousal bothered him, but he wouldn’t let Krycek see that, and if that sexy bastard really was intent on giving him a show like that, Skinner wasn’t going to waste it.
He could count the times he had been close to a man, for any other reason than killing him, on the fingers of one hand. So he kept as calm as he could and went on watching Krycek moving closer.
Skinner had long since resigned himself to the fact that he was going to die at Krycek’s hands. It didn’t matter too much when that time came. He had been able to use the same detachment when he was in Vietnam. If his time had come, it had. Otherwise he would still have a few more days, or weeks or months.
When Krycek got closer, Skinner’s arousal increased. Despite the scars and the prosthetic arm, he didn’t think he had seen anyone more sexy, except of course Mulder, and this was someone who wasn’t drunk, and seemed to be completely willing to offer some, if not all that Skinner could wish for.
“What are you hoping for? Go on, tell me, Walter. If you’re really good, I might actually do it. Just don’t forget who’s running this show. I make the rules, I get the best of the bargain.”
Skinner didn’t reply, just kept watching Krycek. Now the Russian was standing so close to the bed that Skinner could smell him. There was some sweat, but most of all there was that enticing scent of man.
His wife had smelled sweetly of perfume and something else, but this was far more arousing. Skinner found himself wishing that things could be different. If Krycek hadn’t been the man he was, this might have been something else entirely.
Now Krycek began lightly brushing Skinner’s thigh. Just the slightest touch, then his fingers would withdraw. All the time, Krycek kept watching Skinner avidly. It seemed he too liked what he saw.
“If I get a little closer still, I guess you’ll try to bite me, won’t you, Walter?”
“No. I think not. Now I’ve got it. I’ll be back in a sec. Try to hold on a little longer, won’t you, Walter. I wouldn’t like to come back and find you’ve finished without me.”
Krycek returned less than a minute later with some duct tape. He taped Skinner’s mouth shut and then stood up to watch his prisoner. It appeared he was content. That couldn’t be said for Skinner however. All this was getting dangerously close to a memory he had been burying at the bottom of his mind.
They had come from nowhere. He was surrounded, and the few men that had still been left were all dead. He was taken to some sort of camp for interrogation. No! He wouldn’t remember that now. It was over 30 years ago and that war had been over for a long time.
Krycek noticed that Skinner’s erection was nowhere near as hard as it had been before the tape. He seemed to be thinking something over. Then he got up on the bed next to Skinner. He made sure he had his good arm closest to his captive.
Now he began slowly touching Skinner’s face, neck, shoulders. Why the sudden change? All the violence and taunts seemed to be gone for the moment. The look on Krycek’s face was unreadable, but Skinner wasn’t even trying very hard. The gentle touch was having its effect on him. All traces of panic were melting away.
“I can see what you’re thinking. This isn’t punishment. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time for that later. I suppose you can see it as a sort of timeout. You have needs, I have needs. And by the way, I’ve been there too. Not Vietnam obviously – Afghanistan. So I know why that gag is bothering you so much. Oh, you didn’t know that, did you? The small talk can wait. Don’t worry about the gag. I’m not going to hurt you yet, and when I do, I’ll remove it. After all, I don’t want to miss your screaming.”
Krycek appeared to have made up his mind to leave the torture for later. For some reason this was what he chose to do. Skinner couldn’t figure out why, unless it was as Krycek had said. This was about needs. Not the need for revenge, or even understanding, but simply the satisfying of physical needs.
It should have been repellent to Skinner, this meeting between two people who hated each other, but somehow the hatred only added to the excitement. Now he could feel himself growing hard again. Krycek must be a lot more experienced when it came to gay sex than Skinner himself was.
This was all Skinner had ever hoped it would be, but had been too conflicted to really try for. All he’d ever had was the sort of thing he had stolen from Mulder that night. Even so, it had been the most satisfying of his sexual experiences until now. Why couldn’t his night with Mulder have ended like this instead? Still, this was what he was getting, so he just let himself be swept along.
He was glad Krycek had stopped talking. This silent, physical Krycek was much more appealing.
That exquisite mouth began systematically licking Skinner’s face, then sucking in one earlobe. Once or twice there was a sharp nibble, that Skinner loved even more. Now Krycek began working on his chest, then moved further down. For one delicious second, Skinner actually thought Krycek was going to suck him, but even the touch of that hand was highly stimulating.
It was as if Krycek had always known Skinner’s body. He knew exactly how fast, how hard, how long. Now Skinner felt a tongue circling his nipple. It stiffened deliciously, and the slow, exquisite sucking that followed, brought him further along.
At one point he even wished Krycek would let him go, so he could return the favor, but now the experience was drawing to a close. He could tell that he was about to come. When release came, it was better than any other time before. Even with Mulder it hadn’t felt this good.
Now he knew what had been missing when he had tried making love to his wife. He had learned to satisfy her, but never himself, just enough so she wouldn’t suspect anything.
When it was over, Skinner felt an aching loss. He wanted so much more, but he wasn’t foolish enough to expect it from Krycek. Trusting that Russian could be fatal. He knew that, so why did he have to try so hard to convince himself of the fact? He just had to take what he could get and let it go at that.
It appeared Krycek couldn’t. Now Skinner could feel and see, his enemy bringing himself off. For one second there was something like pity. If Krycek had had both his arms he wouldn’t have had to wait for this. Then again, if Krycek had had his arm still, he might not have been filled with the lust for revenge.
Even after Skinner knew it was over for Krycek too, the Russian stayed close. Had this moment been getting to Krycek too? It seemed it had, because after a while, Krycek got up, still uncharacteristically quiet and looked at Skinner with a strange mixture of hate and despair in the otherwise unreadable green eyes. He removed the gag, as he had promised, but he seemed to have changed his mind about the game.
“Damn you, Skinner. This wasn’t what I had planned. How was I to know that this would happen? Did you plan it this way?”
“Me? How could I have known you were even coming here? And don’t blame me, you were the one who initiated this. Not me. I’m tied to this bed, remember, and you were the one who undressed me.”
The reaction was immediate, and despite everything totally unexpected. Skinner felt a sharp, stinging blow against his face. Something warm and wet splashed down over his lips. It seemed as if he had hit a nerve there, but he hadn’t intended to. This sexual encounter had completely shaken him.
“That’s what you all say. You wanted it, Alexei. Don’t blame me. It was your fault. Only it wasn’t. I was ten, how was I supposed to know to expect? Even though that’s what I was sent to do, but it wasn’t what I wanted. You can’t make me say it was.”
So this was his secret? Skinner thought he had finally gained an insight into the enigma that was Alex Krycek. This was too spontaneous, too raw to have been rehearsed. So that was the reason for those shadows around the lovely eyes? But who were “they”? Not that it mattered. Whatever the reason, the boy had been only a child. So Skinner held back the sharp reply that had been on his lips.
“Ok. I admit I wanted this too.”
Krycek looked at him again, and even though the reply had satisfied him, the strange mood from earlier was gone. It must have occurred to him that he was giving away too much. Now it seemed he couldn’t wait to get away from his captive.
Sometime during this exchange Krycek had lost the initiative and Skinner felt he had regained some measure of control over the situation. That was something to remember for later. If there would be a later. He knew Krycek was fully capable of finishing his prisoner off, just for being exposed this way.
“I’ll have to come back later to finish this, but what am I going to do with you, Walter? Leave you like this for the maid to find you – when? on Monday? – or what… I suppose I could just knock you out. Right now I’m not sure which I prefer. Maybe I should let you choose?
“No, you choose. This is your game. Don’t involve me in it.”
“Ok. Say goodnight, Walter. See you later.”
He moved up to the top of the bed, this time bringing his gun. Krycek brought the butt of that gun down on Skinner’s temple, hard. That was the last the A D remembered, until waking hours later, with a pounding headache, two big lumps on his skull, sore wrists and ankles, and a bed smelling tantalizingly of sex.
For some reason he knew he wouldn’t report this incident. He would try his best not to give any of the X files secrets away, but this intimate game between him and Krycek was personal. While Krycek was still his enemy and the enemy of Mulder and Scully, there was now the other Krycek, this new and unexpectedly vulnerable Krycek.
Skinner wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had a feeling the situation with the implant and the implied threat was about to change. Into what he couldn’t be sure.
It occurred to him that if he tried, he might be able to influence Krycek, but the thought of using sex to seduce an enemy was repellent to him. Not only because of what he would then become, but also, some shred of loyalty to Krycek kept him from wanting to resort to that. Yes, this was an entirely new and unexpected situation and he would have to think long and hard on it, before he was able to come to any decision.