Props to Nic for beta and for not freaking out when I call her weird little food names, and likewise to Ori, who... well, she actually does freak a little when I start singing Bee Gees songs to her. heehee
Love to you both! Mwwwah!

DC Rain

Aries

I had a good life before you came
I had my friends and my freedom
And I had my name

Still there was sorrow and emptiness
Till you made me glad
Oh, in this love I found strength
I never knew I had

And this love is like nothing I have ever known
Take my hand love
I'm taking you home
Taking you home
—Taking You Home, Don Henley

Disclaimer: Dammit to eternal, flaming hell, they're still CC's. Not that he cares. Any characters you don't recognize are mine and of little or no importance. ::sigh::

The wail of sirens and thump of bass from the passing cars vibrated the partially open window, muffling the grunts and moans of the man lying flat on his back on the hotel room bed. His sweaty head rolled back and forth across the flat pillow as his thick hips pushed upward, holding to no particular rhythm as his stubby, latex-sheathed cock wobbled in and out of the mouth of the fully dressed man lying between his legs.

Sighing to himself, the younger man grabbed the other's hips and again attempted to guide him into a more controlled motion. It worked for all of five seconds, and the man was again bucking erratically.

Ah, fuck it. Just finish already, would you?

As soon as his thoughts were completed, the tub beneath him stiffened, his beet-red face contorting as he came noisily into the condom. He collapsed in a clammy heap on the bed, panting and wheezing while the other man quickly slid off the mattress and retreated to the bathroom.

Not bothering to turn on the light, the man pulled his toothbrush and a travel size tube of toothpaste out of the small bag he'd brought with him. He thoroughly scrubbed the taste of the latex out of his mouth and spit in the general direction of the facebowl. Rinsing, he returned to the bedroom, where the other man was just peeling the rubber off of his shriveled cock. He closed his eyes against the repulsive, sucking squishy noise and didn't open them until he heard the condom hit the inside of the waste basket by the bed.

"God, that was good," the man on the bed spoke at last. "My wife never wants to," he explained as he began to pull his clothes on. "She thinks its disgusting."

Dark eyes took in the abundance of pasty white flesh and listened to the breathless grunts as the man dressed himself, then they quickly darted away.

"Can't imagine why..."

The deadpan statement when right over the man's head. He pulled his shoes on and stood up, reaching into his wallet.

"Seventy-five, was it?"

"Yeah."

"You know, I can get the same thing from any of the others for forty." He held the bills out, but the other didn't reach for them. Instead, he nodded to the nightstand. The man dropped the money down beside the bed and folded his wallet.

"Then, why didn't you?"

The man shrugged. "I heard you were worth the seventy-five. You're sure a lot prettier than any others I've seen. That alone is worth a little extra."

The other stood his ground and said nothing.

"Well..." The man looked at his watch. "Better get outta here. The wife'll have a bird if I'm much later. But uh... I'd like to see you again. Maybe spend a little more than fifteen minutes together."

The other stifled the shudder that passed through him. "Whatever."

"Okay... see ya."

The man ambled out of the room leaving the other alone.

He walked slowly to the nightstand and fingered the bills for a moment before picking them up and sitting at the edge of the rumpled bed.

Seventy-five dollars for fifteen minutes.

Fifteen revolting minutes with a fat, sweaty lump of a man whose wife, for reasons unknown only to him, refused to give him head, so he decided to come on down to boys' town and take a walk on the wild side.

Not exactly the easiest or most pleasurable way to make a buck, but hell, there were worse ways too. And he knew them all.

Neatly folding the bills, he shoved them into the front pocket of his jeans then rose from the bed, and picked his jacket up off the nearby chair. He checked his watch and sighed softly.

Still relatively early. He could probably get a couple more in before calling it a night.

Willing his stomach to cease its nightly protestations, he donned the worn leather jacket and slipped back out into the sticky Los Angeles night.

The office door squeaked open with no notice, and the petite redhead walked in and stopped midway to her partner's desk. She shook her head and completed her trek, laying her hand on the golden-brown cushion of the sleeping man's hair.

Pens and sheets of paper scattered as the man sat bolt upright, squinting up at the woman.

"What?"

"Sorry, Mulder, I didn't mean to scare you, but do you know what time it is?"

The man shook his head, rubbing one eye.

"Almost eleven."

"What're you doing here, then?"

"Looking for you. Did you forget you were supposed to check in with me on the Santa Fe case?"

"No."

"Then, why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't find what I was looking for." Mulder pushed away from the desk and stretched his six foot frame out to its full length. "Guess I fell asleep while I was still researching. Sorry 'bout that." He looked up at his partner. "I don't get it though... why didn't you just call me?"

"I couldn't reach your cell."

Frowning, the man reached into his pocket and checked his phone. "When did I turn this off?"

Scully sighed heavily. "You've been doing that a lot lately, Mulder. Where the hell's your mind?"

Mulder leaned back in his chair, not making any attempt to respond.

"You haven't really been here for months now," Scully continued. "Not since..."

"I know," Mulder interrupted softly then shrugged. "I'll live." He gave his partner a half hearted smile. "Weird, huh? We've been working for years to bring Smokey and his friends down, and now that we have, I feel so... I don't know. Like it's all over. There's nothing more for me."

Scully pulled up a chair and dropped into it. "I understand that. It's not just the thrill of the chase that you've lost either." Scully eyed the man behind the desk. "Your mother's gone... now you're sure about your sister. It's a hell of a lot to lose in such a short time." She leaned forward, making sure she had his attention. "Maybe you should take a break. Go on a long vacation and just relax."

"Why?" the soft monotone asked. "It's not like I'm up to my neck in work anymore."

"Yet, you're here at eleven at night. Mulder, go home. Worry about this tomorrow."

"Yeah." Mulder rubbed at the inside corners of his eyes then looked around at the mess on his desk." "Yeah, I guess so."

Not bothering to tidy up, Mulder rose, plucking his jacket off the back of his chair. He shut the lights off and followed his partner out of the office, closing the door softly behind him. They walked in silence for a while, and when they reached the parking garage, he turned weary eyes to her.

"You know, maybe I will take some time off."

Cerulean eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Why the hell not?" Mulder threw up his arms, walking toward his car. "I guess I could use a little down time."

Scully stared at the man as he opened his car door. "Okay, that was just too easy. Do me a favor, Mulder, and don't do that to me too often. I'll start to think something's really wrong with you."

Mulder gave his partner a hint of a smile and folded himself into the front seat of his car. "See you tomorrow, Scully."

The two left the parking garage, parting company as they had every night for seven years. Scully to her apartment, Mulder to his.

It could have been an X-file. As puzzling as any mystery the duo had investigated.

Seven years together, and nothing. Not a hint, not a speck of romance. There was love between them, no doubt of that. But not the kind most would expect. Their affection for each other was born of respect and trust and the quickly learned knowledge that they could depend on no one but each other. That solidarity, forged in the fires of distrust and corruption, kept them alive and earned them victory over those who sought to obliterate all humanity.

And now that the danger had passed, they could relax. Celebrate even, but neither had found much cause for celebration. The toll that the years-long battle had taken on both their lives was too great. The losses suffered too profound, and now all either could do was move on.

There was still a job to be done, and they did it. Though, Scully had noticed, with infinitely less enthusiasm on Mulder's part. No case, regardless of how bizarre held the appeal for him that it once had. He was always thorough and expeditious enough in his investigations, but the spark, that sometimes infuriating, ever present Mulder-flair with which he had attacked each case had all but vanished.

He definitely needed a long vacation. Not that time off was going to restore his lost vigor, but perhaps it would help clarify things for him. Maybe he could get his thoughts together and decide if he even wanted to continue on with the X-files anymore.

Or with the FBI for that matter...

Mulder pulled up to his apartment and exited the car, dragging himself up the steps and into the lobby of the building. Proceeding up to apartment number forty-two, he inserted the key into the lock, thinking as he did, about the countless times this very lock had been picked. Entering the apartment, he dropped onto the sofa and ran his fingers through his hair.

Don't have to worry anymore about that.

Unless he was actually being robbed, he'd never again have to concern himself with walking in and finding uninvited guests rummaging through his belongings or pointing weapons at his chest.

The golden-brown head dropped back against the cushion of the leather sofa, and he sighed.

"All the fun's gone out of your life, Mulder. All the intrigue... all the challenge."

He shifted, stretching himself out and closing his eyes.

"What the hell's left?"

Two men walked slowly down the sidewalk, checking out tonight's offerings.

"Holy shit, Jason, would you look at that one?"

"For God's sake, don't point," the other man warned. "Some of these guys may look like femmes, but a lot of them would slit you open as soon as look at you."

Scott broke into laughter then choked it back, noting the serious expression on his friend's face. "You're not shittin'?"

"No, I'm not. D'you know Bobby Martin?"

"Bobby with the limp?"

"Yeah. You know where he got that limp?"

Scott shook his head.

"He messed with some scrawny little guy down on Sunset. Was making fun of the way he was dressed, and the little shit pulled a blade on him. Put a five inch gash in his arm, then knocked him to the ground and he and a friend of his started stomping on him. Broke his leg in two places."

"Shit. So why the hell did you bring me down here if it's dangerous?"

"It's only dangerous if you fuck with one of them. Hey... speaking of dangerous." Jason motioned with his head. "Look at that one."

Scott let out a long, breathy moan and turned to his friend. "You don't think he's one, do you?"

"Nobody hangs out down here unless they're looking or advertising."

"He could be looking."

Jason shook his head. "No. No, he's just sitting there. He's selling."

"God, I can't believe it."

"C'mon, let's go."

Scott put on the brakes as his friend walked in the direction of the green bench. "Whoa. Go where?"

"To talk to him."

"You shittin' me?"

"No."

"Jason, don't you think there's a reason he's still out here and not in some rich guy's Mercedes?"

"Won't know unless we talk to him. Now, come on."

The two approached and looked down at the man sprawled on the bench.

"Uh... s... s'cuse me."

Long, dark eyelashes lifted, and a laser-green stare fixed itself on the two young men.

"I. I uh... we w-were wondering if you..."

The eyes shifted to the street, watching the rush of late night traffic.

"Spit it out, boys."

Jason gulped in a lungful of warm air. "We were wondering... h-how much?"

"For what?"

Scott touched the other man's arm. "C'mon, Jason, let's go."

One corner of the perfectly bowed mouth slanted upward. "Your boyfriend's copping out, Jason. Sure you don't want to reconsider?"

Jason pulled his arm away from Scott's grasp. "No, I... I'd... how much?"

God, the eyes were on him again.

"I repeat. How much for what?"

"Straight fuck." Jason breathed deeply, proud of himself that he was able to get the two words out with some semblance of confidence.

"Just you? Doesn't look like your friend is in any condition."

"Uh, no..both..."

"Jason..."

Jason turned in Scott's direction, mumbling. "Come on, Scott. When the hell are we ever gonna a chance like this again? Look at 'im."

Before the other could protest again, he turned back to the seated man. "Both."

Sharp eyes sized the two up then looked to the spokesman. "Five hundred."

"Five..."

Shrug of one leather-covered shoulder. "Take it or leave it."

Jason turned to his friend, who had already begun to back away.

"Where are you going?"

"What d'you mean, where am I going? You're not actually thinking about it. Damn, Jason, that's way too much."

"You have two fifty, Scott, I know you do."

"Yeah, I got it, but..."

"Gimme it."

"No."

The low, gravel and honey voice drifted in the direction of the arguing young men, stopping all conversation.

"Could you two take this someplace else? You're not exactly helping business, you know?"

The two walked a few feet away and picked up where they'd left off.

"Scott, you're never gonna get this opportunity again, and you know it!"

"I'll live with the disappointment," Scott snapped back. "That's too much money to spend."

The other man laughed. "Really? And how much did you spend on Kevin, huh? Over the span of three weeks you can't tell me that you didn't blow at least a grand taking him here and there, wining and dining him, and what did you get out of it?"

Scott sighed heavily. "He dumped me for that asshole Richard."

"That's right. At least this is a sure thing. Less expensive, and he's twenty times finer than Kevin could ever even dream of being." Jason bounced up and down for emphasis. "Come on, Scottie. You'll live to regret it if you don't..."

The green eyes flicked up to the two men as they again approached the bench, then slid away.

"You two look familiar."

"Yeah. Uh... five hundred, right?"

"Waste any more of my time, and it'll go up to six."

"We got a deal," Jason said quickly, reaching into his pocket.

"Not here," the smoky voice commanded, stopping him in mid-reach. Wait till we get to where we're going."

"Okay, uh... where are we going?"

The man lifted himself from the bench and looked down at the other two. "Don't you have a place?"

"No. Uh... we thought you would..."

"That's not my job. You secure the place. You pay."

"More money?" Scott wailed, incurring a censoring glare from his friend.

"Yeah, okay," Jason answered, "but... can you recommend a place?"

The tall man blew out an exasperated breath and stalked away. "Come with me."

The two men followed at a safe distance as the other moved with feline grace through the maze of people. They followed him to a building not very far from the bench where they'd found him, and, to prevent an argument between his companion and himself, Jason put out for the cost of the room. The three walked down a long corridor to room twenty one, and Jason unlocked the door, allowing the tall man to enter first.

"Hey, by the way," he called, tossing the key down on the nearest chair, "we don't know your name."

"No, you don't," the other answered, stopping in the middle of the floor and staring at the two.

"Well, I'm Jason, and this is Scott."

Still, nothing but a cool, emerald stare.

"So... uh..." Jason looked around. "What do we... how do we start?"

"It's your money."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"Which, by the way, I'll take now."

"Before we do anything?"

"Well... in case your very white friend over there passes out in the middle of it, I don't want you getting any ideas about stiffing me for half of our agreed price. I hate having to hurt nice young men like yourselves."

"W-we wouldn't do anything like that."

"No, you won't. Now... cash on the table or this is all off."

Jason quickly pulled the money from his pocket then turned to his companion. Reluctantly, Scott handed his half over, and the five hundred was dropped on the table. The other man walked over and picked the pile up, turning each bill so that it was face up and in order according to value. He then folded the wad and put it in the front pocket of his jeans. Giving the young men a mocking glare, he glided away, slithering out of his leather jacket.

A soft whimper arose from one of the pair on the other side of the room as the man dropped his jacket over the back of a chair then, in one fluid movement, pulled his white t-shirt up and over his head. Letting it fall on top of the jacket, the man turned and looked at his customers.

"The night ain't gettin' any younger, boys."

Jason nudged Scott forward and followed close behind and they cautiously approached the other.

"You gonna undress?"

"Huh?"

"Take your clothes off. Unless you'd rather come in your pants. By the way... you've got rubbers, right?"

"Yeah." Jason pulled a couple of packets out of the back pocket of his pants.

"Okay, let's get on with it."

He watched the two fumble out of their clothing while he slowly peeled off his jeans, and when they had finally stripped, he sank down on the bed and pulled himself back against the pillows.

"We doing this or what?"

Hearing the impatient snap in the other man's voice, the two lay down on the bed, flanking him. Jason hesitated for a moment, then lifted one shaking hand and let it rest on the man's chest. Slowly, he let it wander over the virtually smooth surface, and sent a smile in his companion's direction.

"Come on, Scott," he encouraged softly. "God, he feels like silk."

Bored, green eyes rolled up into the man's head, and he dropped them back down to stare at a picture across the room.

Timidly, Scott touched the hard abdomen, forcing himself to stroke the warm flesh.

"You're gorgeous," Jason commented softly as his courage built, and he moved closer.

"I've been told."

"I'm sure you have," Jason whispered, his face moving closer. Before his mouth could touch the bowed lips, the other stopped him with a firm hand on his chest.

"I don't kiss."

"With a mouth like that? Seems a shame."

"Yeah, whatever. I don't do it."

"Maybe you've just never kissed the right man before."

"And you think you're him?"

Jason backed off at the irritated tone.

"Listen, skippy. You wanna fuck, fine. But that's all you get. I don't kiss. Not you, not anybody. Okay?"

"Okay. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, just do what you paid me for, and hurry up about it. It's getting late."

"All right. Uh..." Jason ripped one packet open and rolled the pre-lubed condom on then gently separated the prone man's thighs. After a bit of fumbling, he finally managed to work his cock into the other. As he began to thrust, Scott began to whimper.

"Oh, God. I can't... I can't believe you're actually.."

"Shut up, would you?" Jason ground through clenched teeth, cutting his friend off in mid sentence. "You're screwing me... oh... oh, shit..." His body spasming erratically, Jason came then fell forward onto his hands, gasping for breath. "Oh, God, that was fantastic..."

Oh, yeah. All twelve seconds of it.

Jason pulled out and fell onto the bed, dragging a satisfied gaze up to his companion. "Come on, Scott. Your turn."

"Yeah, come on, stud," the man droned. "Let's see if you're as... good... as your friend here."

Shaking violently, Scott took the place previously occupied by his friend, and struggled to hold himself together while he pushed his cock into the man beneath him.

Once the second man was inside him, the other decided to have a little fun. As the young man began to thrust, he tightened his muscles, squeezing Scott's cock.

"Oh, God!" the young man shrieked, losing all control and collapsing onto the hustler's chest. Before he could draw a steadying breath, the other man rolled him onto the bed and sat up.

"Well, that was interesting." Hopping over Scott, the man landed without a sound on the carpeted floor. Quietly, he dressed and looked down at the two had just pulled themselves off the bed and were reaching for their clothes. "You boys have a nice night."

The young men watched as the other draped his jacket over his shoulder and stalked out of the room, leaving them alone. There was a moment of quiet, then Jason looked to his companion and smiled.

"You believe we just fucked that?"

Scott returned the smile, chest puffing with pride. "Yeah. Damn, Let's go tell somebody."

"Who?"

"Anybody we can find!"

The two finished dressing and, already blowing the story they would tell way out of proportion, bounded out of the room in search of their friends.

"A month?"

A.D. Skinner leaned back against his desk, arms folded across his chest, focusing a surprised gaze on his agent.

"Yes, sir."

"God knows you've got the time accumulated, but..." Skinner shook his head. "It's just very... well, quite frankly, I'm shocked."

Mulder nodded and said nothing.

"When do you want the time off?"

"Immediately."

The A.D.'s eyebrows rose above the rims of his glasses. "If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Very well, then. Effective immediately, you're on leave for one month."

Mulder rose from his seat and met the other man's eyes. "Thank you sir. Uh... why don't we make that five weeks?"

"Five weeks," Skinner repeated flatly.

"Well, I need a week or so to plan..."

"All right, Mulder. Five weeks it is."

As he turned to leave the office, Skinner's voice followed him.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"I don't know." Mulder stopped at the door and opened it before he turned around. "I was thinking someplace warm. Maybe California. Scully and I were in L.A. last year, and I thought then that I'd like to go back for a visit. You know, see Hollywood and all that."

Skinner nodded. "Well... have a good trip."

"Thank you, sir."

Mulder exited the A.D.'s office and made straight for his own, cleaning up the mess on his desk and dropping a few files on Scully's. His partner walked in moments later and immediately noticed that for the first time in ages she could actually see the top of his desk.

"Got your time off, did you?"

"Yeah," Mulder answered absently. "Scully, I put a couple of files on your desk. Would you handle those for me? It's nothing big, but they really should have some attention."

"Yeah, sure." Scully picked up one file and perused the contents. "So, are you going someplace?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to take a trip anywhere? Don't tell me you're just going to hang around your apartment for four weeks."

"No. No, I'm not. I was thinking about California."

"Hmm. Any particular reason?" "Not really. I've just never seen it aside from those two days we spent there last year, and I think I'd like to."

"Oh."

"In fact, I was just getting ready to call the airline and see if they've got any specials."

"Don't be a cheapskate, Mulder. The way you live, you've got to have a good chunk of change stashed away. Splurge for once. Pamper yourself."

Mulder emitted a soft laugh.

"Seriously. Go shopping on Rodeo Drive..."

"I don't shop."

"Visit a spa..."

"I don't sit in mud."

"For God's sake, Mulder," the redhead huffed. "What the hell are you going there for, then?"

"The scenery? Celebrity stalking?"

"Wonderful. God, Mulder, you're impossible."

Mulder dropped down into his chair and picked up the phone. "Yeah, and just think. You don't have to deal with me for a whole month."

"Ah, heaven." Scully sank into her own seat, grinning. "Hurry up and get the hell out of here, would you?"

Three-ten a.m.

The man dragged into the small apartment, removing his jacket as he entered. Not bothering to turn any lights on, he walked straight into the bathroom, stripping off his shirt as he moved. He tossed the garment into the open hamper then removed the rest of his clothes and turned the shower on.

While the water ran, he brushed his teeth then stepped under the spray. Gritting his teeth, he endured the pounding of the hot water as he squeezed some bathwash into the sponge and began to lather his skin.

A good night.

All in all he'd made just a little over twenty five hundred dollars, and he didn't even have to work very hard for it.

There were some nights though, when he really had to put out. Nights when he'd known as soon as a customer approached him that he was in for a hard time.

Fucking middle-aged men. They were the worst. Especially the ones with money. He'd make them pay through the nose, but they expected a lot for their money. He'd come home bruised and sore many a night, but hell, those things faded. And the money he'd made would go a long way in getting him the hell out of this hole one day.

He turned his face up to the spray, laughing bitterly to himself.

Today, a major player in a global game, tomorrow, a whore, living hand to mouth and fucking anyone who waved the right amount of green in his face.

Didn't seem a fitting reward for someone who had had a key role in saving the world.

Well, at least there were still streets for him to walk. The world was still here, and he was still in it. But who the hell knew it'd turn out like this?

Somehow, that smoking bastard had gone behind his back and gotten his wrinkled hands on all of his assets while he was working behind Smokey's back to destroy him and all his plans. Only when it was all over did he discover that he'd been cleaned out and left with nothing. All he had in the world was the contents of his apartment and the little bit of money he'd stashed away in it. When it was time for him to disappear as he'd agreed to do, he'd had no choice but to take what little he had and go. Alex Krycek may have been a murdering low life, but he never went back on his word.

So, now he was here. Clear across the country, alone and doing what he had to do... what he he'd always been good at, to make as much money as he could, as quickly as he could, so he could get the hell out and go live a quiet life somewhere.

Alone.

Like he'd always been...

He rinsed off and stepped out of the shower, drying himself with a thin towel and stopping in front of the full length mirror on the back of the door. Watching his hand move the towel across his chest and arms, he sighed softly.

Not bad at all for a guy who's been through all the shit you have. Too bad it's been wasted on people who really couldn't appreciate it.

'People' being all those men who cruised boy's town looking for that which they couldn't get at home or anyplace else. Horny bastards with more money than brains, who could work their kinks out without all the guilt.

And then there were the others.

The shriveled old queens he worked for back in the day... the men who took full advantage of his looks and talent while he was too young and stupid to object.

He came to hate those fuckers... shuddered at the hunger he saw in their watery eyes when they looked at him. Vowed, even as he kneeled in front of any one of them, that one day the tables would be turned and he'd bring them to their arthritic knees.

Oh, yeah, and of course there was Walt Skinner.

It had only happened once... while he was cuffed to the A.D.'s balcony. There was no removal of clothing and no premeditation involved, but still...

After Mulder had brought him to Skinner's apartment and left, Skinner came back and beat him some more, and he could tell from the other man's expression... the way he'd touched him and growled his words so close to his face that he'd been possessed by something more than anger.

Unable to go anywhere, he could do little more than curl himself up into a ball and take the blows. When Skinner wrapped an arm tightly around his neck and began to hump his back as he spat obscenities at him, he'd simply closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. When it was, Skinner fell away from him, looking very dazed. Realizing what he'd just done, the older man got up and stumbled away, leaving him alone for the rest of the night...

Tired, green eyes fell away from the image in the mirror, and Alex walked into the bedroom. Pulling a pair of underwear out of the dresser, he put the black boxer briefs on and fell onto his bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he began to wonder why he'd even bothered.

Double crossing assassin helps save world full of lecherous assholes and gets a big kick in the ass for his trouble. Film at eleven.

He laughed out loud then fell into a pensive silence as another passed into his thoughts.

Fox Mulder.

The only man in this whole mess who'd ever touched him and not shown even the slightest bit of sexual interest in him.

With good reason, Mulder had beaten his ass on more than one occasion, even attempted to kill him. And he'd never fought back. Never so much as tried to defend himself, and he'd always asked himself why. The only answer he would ever give himself was that he'd known he'd deserved it. He'd earned every bit of the man's hatred, and maybe it was the guilt he'd felt that made him always lie down at take whatever Mulder had to dish out...

And, if he was finally going to be honest with himself, maybe it was that little thrill that he'd always felt whenever he was in the man's presence. That shot of electricity that buzzed his nerves with every encounter...

The day he'd surprised Mulder in his apartment, his entire body felt like a spring, wound tighter than he could ever imagine. And every snide word, every glare that the other man had leveled on him felt like a serrated knife skittering along his jagged nerves.

He hadn't known what the hell had possessed him to kiss Mulder just before he'd left, but he couldn't help himself. He'd known that the action might well get him killed, but he had to, he...

The shock of Mulder's non reaction nearly knocked him back on his ass, but he'd pulled himself together and regained enough of his cool to get up and glide out of the apartment. He'd managed to get all the way to his place before he'd sunken in a boneless heap on the floor in front of the bed and let thoughts of what could have happened run wild.

He'd jerked off three times that night as his mind ran through scenario after scenario.

Himself... the aggressor, holding Mulder's own gun on him and forcing Mulder to submit and eventually enjoy himself...

Mulder... shooting a hole in the wall by his head with his returned weapon, threatening to kill him if he didn't do as he'd said, and fucking him right there on the living room floor...

The two of them... eyes locked, each attempting to stare the other down, but somehow winding up crawling naked all over each other...

And when a few hours sleep and the cold light of day snapped him back into reality, he picked up, pushed thoughts of beautiful green-gold eyes and that mouth that was just made for sin, to the back of his mind and went on with his business...

Alex turned onto his side and closed his eyes, letting his thoughts continue to drift. He wondered what Mulder was up to lately. Wondered if he'd finally found some peace now that it was all over... if now that he and Scully didn't have so much else on their minds, they would actually discover each other.

He flipped onto his stomach and groaned into the pillow.

God. Mulder and Scully?

No. She's not the one. Not what he needs. He's too passionate. Too unstable. She can barely handle him in a work relationship. She wouldn't know what to do with him sexually, I know it. He'd be way too much for her fine, patrician senses to take.

He was sure of it. One look into those furious, gilded eyes many years ago had told him all he needed to know about Fox Mulder. And if things had been different... if Mulder had swung that way, he would've...

"Knock it the fuck off and go to sleep, would you?"

He flipped onto his back and settled down for what would turn out to be a commonly restless sleep.

What the hell was I smoking?

Mulder walked into the Regent Beverly Wilshire, looking around the lobby, knowing now why he was paying two hundred and fifty dollars a night.

You let Scully talk you into it, remember?

Yeah, yeah. Could be worse, I guess. I could be staying here the whole month...

He had decided to spend two weeks in the city and two in the country, hiking maybe, and just spending some quiet time alone with his thoughts. Scully had asked him if he was insane, wanting to spend time in a sleeping bag when there was so much to do and see in the city, but he'd made up his mind, so he'd booked a cabin in the mountains for the last two weeks of his vacation.

"Fine, Mulder," his incensed partner had snorted. "But I'll tell you this. You go get lost up there, you're gonna stay lost, 'cause I'm not looking for you!"

Mulder smiled as he remembered the good natured taunting, and was still smiling when he approached the front desk.

An attractive brunette woman with medium blue eyes returned the smile, looking the new arrival up and down.

"Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?"

"Yes, thank you. I made reservations about a week ago. The name's Mulder."

The woman tapped a few times at a computer keyboard, and her smile widened. "Ah yes, here we are. Mulder... Fox Mulder?"

"Right."

The woman raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows and continued to tap at the keyboard. "All right, Mr. Mulder. You're in room twelve-fourteen." She completed his check in, summoned a hovering bell hop, and while she handed Mulder's key to him, the man placed all of his bags on a cart and stood waiting for him.

"There you go, sir, and I hope you have a lovely stay at the Regent."

Mulder smiled and nodded, and followed the bell hop to the elevators. The two boarded alone, and a few seconds after the doors closed, Mulder turned to the young man and struck up a conversation.

"So... I've never been to California... not on vacation. Do you recommend anything?"

The young man smiled and shrugged. "Well, there are all the usual tourist attractions. The movie studios, Rodeo Drive, tours of the star's homes..."

Mulder nodded and said nothing as the doors opened, and they stepped out into the hall.

"...restaurants galore... nightlife is jumpin'... any kind of club you're interested in, you can find it here. You'll find a complete directory in your room."

The two stopped in front of room twelve-fourteen, and Mulder unlocked the door and stepped inside. "Nice," he commented looking around the lavishly appointed room.

"If there's anything else you need, I'm here till eleven," the young man pointed out. "Just call down and ask for Rudy."

Mulder pulled out his wallet and handed the bell hop a bill. "Thanks, Rudy."

The young man left, closing the door softly behind him, and Mulder picked up the largest of his bags, depositing it on the king-sized bed. He got halfway through unpacking and quit. He lay down across the bed and yawned, vowing to close his eyes for just a few minutes, but wound up falling asleep for more than three hours. The ringing of his cell phone startled him awake.

"Mldr."

"Mulder, where the hell are you?"

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. "Where'd I tell you I was going, Scully?"

"You're at your hotel?"

"Mmm hmm."

"How long have you been there?"

He looked at his watch. "'Bout three hours. Started to unpack, and I guess I fell asleep."

"Is that why you sound all groggy?"

"Guess so."

"Well, I won't keep you then. I just started to worry. You can call me tomorrow when you're settled, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Night, Mulder."

"Night."

Night.

Not really. It may have been ten o'clock in Washington, but it was only seven here.

And, he'd just realized, he was starving.

Deciding on just staying in his room tonight, Mulder found the directory and menu, and called down for a fried chicken dinner, then set about unpacking the rest of his clothes. By the time he'd put everything away, dinner had arrived, and he settled down with the remote and started flipping through the channels.

Passing by all of the garden variety news and entertainment programs, he found the pay movie channels and started looking for something interesting. Speeding by a blonde woman in a bathing suit two sizes too small for her, lying on the hood of a silver sports car, he stopped and backed up, memorizing the channel.

"Hmm. Maybe. Let's see what else is on."

Four adult channels later, he happened upon a brief scene of two men by a pool. One was lying on a chaise, wearing a pair of gauzy white pants, and the other, approaching from his left was working a black t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it over his head. As the man in jeans began to kneel beside the one in the chair, the scene froze and an order number appeared on the screen.

Mulder stared for long seconds, his thumb caressing the order button. Then, biting down on his lower lip, he changed the channel. When he'd completed his search, he found himself back at the channel he'd paused on. There was a different ad on now, though still involving two handsome, half-dressed men.

Mulder's leg began a spasmodic bounce, and he sucked insistently at half of his lower lip.

Been a long time.

The last time he could remember being with a man was just after Diana Fowley had left for her new job. He was in Chicago working on a case and butted heads with the agent he'd come to help. They'd argued constantly and pissed each other off on a regular basis, and days later found themselves tangled together in the sheets of the other man's bed. They'd never seen each other again after the case had concluded, but Mulder had always remembered the encounter.

He'd been attracted to other men over the years, but nothing had ever come of it. He'd never been the sexually aggressive type... not when it came to his own gender. Maybe it was his job that stopped him from going after an attractive male... perhaps it was the fear of Scully's response. He wasn't quite sure, but whatever the reason, he'd kept his homosexual attractions to himself...

Mulder closed his eyes for a moment, taking a long, deep breath.

Though, in one exceptional case, they'd always seemed to get the better of him. And it pissed him off to no end that he'd never been able to remain in tight control.

Thus, the violence.

It had served him well; even the object of his fury had not suspected that it was lust that had boiled in his veins alongside the anger, but the encounters had always left him feeling empty and regretful. Yet, he knew with all certainty that whenever they'd met again, the process would be repeated. And it had been. And when it had all ended... when it was all over, in those moments when he'd allow himself to be a little morose, he'd not feel the relief that he thought he should.

As agreed, his favorite adversary had disappeared... vanished, completely and forever, and those brief, confusing moments that had followed, he'd wondered what would have happened if he had asked him to stay...

No.

Good.

It was all for the best that he had gone.

One more huge source of stress removed. Deleted from his life as quickly as he had been inserted...

Mulder groaned softly, feeling the dull throb in his pants, and before he could think about it further, pressed the order button. Minutes later, he was watching two beautiful, well-built men visually devouring each other across the room in a smoky, crowded club. In record time they were in the back seat of the dark-haired man's car in a secluded spot, grunting and sweating as one drove into the other with as much force as their cramped quarters would allow.

As he watched, Mulder's hand absently undid his pants and slid inside, lightly caressing his rigid cock while the man who was being fucked grasped his own erection and started pumping relentlessly.

Unable to resist the urge to do the same, Mulder's hand tightened and he began to work his cock feverishly, bringing himself to a fast orgasm as the men on screen wailed and howled their own satisfaction.

Mulder lay spent, watching through weary eyes as the two men cleaned up, refastened their clothing, and went their separate ways.

This is nice. Lying in bed, jerking off to porn and paying two fifty a night for it. You could be doing this shit at home, and it wouldn't cost you more than four ninety-five for the tape rental.

Mulder pulled himself off the bed, cleaned up and returned naked to bed, crawling under the sheet. Two hours and a movie and a half later, he'd jerked off once more and finally fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

The tall, dark figure moved effortlessly through the crowd, prowling the street he'd walked every night for several months. Sharp, blue eyes watched him from the air conditioned interior of the Jaguar, noting how he stood out amongst the herd of hustlers and customers.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm. Too, too pretty."

The man stepped out of the car, gliding through the mob and coming to stand in front of his chosen companion for the night.

"Excuse me."

Icy, green eyes assessed the man standing before them.

Casual but expensive dress. Tall, fit, not bad looking. Maybe about ten years older than he was. A good prospect.

"Yeah?"

"I'm looking for some company for the night. Are you interested?"

Alex made another show of looking the other man up and down. "Depends."

The other smiled. "On what?"

"On how interested you are."

"I'm very interested. Like a grand worth of interest."

That'd work.

Alex stepped closer, letting their bodies brush just slightly. "What exactly are you looking for?" he rasped, just loud enough for the other to hear.

The other man's mouth curved up into a salacious grin...

Well, that was an... interesting day.

After getting lost half a dozen times and having his windshield washed more times then he could count, Mulder had finally found the attractions he'd intended to visit. But because of the severe loss of time, he'd cut each sojourn short.

Returning to his hotel room at seven, he'd showered, shaved and changed into a pair of lightweight black pants and dark gray silk shirt. He had a light dinner in his room then headed out to some of the spots Rudy had told him about.

Spending a wasted three hours, Mulder left the fourth club with a massive headache and the suddenly strong desire to be back in his hotel room with the remote and a handful of aching cock.

God, you're pathetic. You're on vacation, asshole. Act like it.

He walked the long boulevard, attention drawn to a club just about ten yards ahead.

Men... lots of men. Some in pairs, holding hands, others in groups, and still others alone, walking through the door of the place Mulder had now reached. He sighed softly, debating on whether or not to go in, when a good looking man with dirty blonde hair brushed by him then turned around and gave him an encouraging wink.

Come on, vacation boy. Live a little.

Mulder moved forward, passing through the door and paying the cover charge before nudging his way to the bar.

The place was mobbed, and he had to wait a little bit for the bartender to make his way over to him, but that was fine. He entertained himself by watching several separate seductions taking place within his line of vision.

Unreal. I never knew there were this many...

"So, you decided to come in."

Surprised hazel eyes turned in the direction of the voice belonging to the man he's seen outside of the club. He hesitated then nodded silently.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"...No."

The man leaned against the bar, facing him.

"Me either. I'm Shawn."

No answer.

"Can I ask you your name?"

There was another long hesitation, then, "Mulder."

"That your first name?"

"No, it's just what I prefer."

"I see. Parents saddle you with something awful like Chester or Homer?"

Mulder shrugged. "Something like that."

"Okay, Mulder. Can I buy you a drink?"

"N-no," Mulder protested, looking for the bartender. "I got it. As soon he finds his way over here."

Shawn smiled and whistled, gaining the attention of the man behind the bar.

"Yo, Vinnie! Two beers when you get the chance." He turned to the man still standing beside him. "Beer okay?"

Mulder opened his mouth to speak, but ended up just nodding.

The beer came minutes later, and at his insistence, Shawn paid the tab

"Thanks," Mulder murmured, looking down into his open bottle, not knowing what else to say.

"You know, I like shy men," the other whispered, leaning in close enough for Mulder to hear. "Especially when they're as pretty as you."

Mulder swallowed hard, trying to get the sudden lump in his throat to move.

"Are you from around here?"

The golden-brown head shook slowly.

"I didn't think so. Can you tell me where you are from?"

"East Coast."

"I see. What are you doing all the way out here? Visiting family?"

"No, just. I... I'm on vacation."

"Alone?"

"Yeah. Really needed to get as far away from work as I could."

"Ah. High stress job?"

"You could say that."

Shawn nodded, staring quietly for a number of seconds. Then, "If you don't mind, could you... could you look at me?"

Mulder looked up but past the other man's face, eyes skittering around the large room, then finally settling on the dark brown eyes.

"Pretty eyes," Shawn complimented softly. "I think I could very easily get lost in them."

Golden-brown lashes swept downward, hiding the amber-flecked green irises as Mulder took a long swallow from the bottle.

Shawn watched the way the other man's lips wrapped around the bottle, and his cock, which up until now had been whispering insistently to him, was now screaming its need.

"Judging from your obvious discomfort, I'd guess that no one has ever told you how handsome you are." Not waiting for an answer, he moved even closer, daring to skim the other man's cheek with his knuckles. "You are, you know. But you don't believe me, do you? You think I'm handing you a line?"

Nothing.

"Would you dance with me?"

Mulder looked up, suddenly slightly alarmed.

"No. N-no, I..."

"Can't dance?"

"No. I can dance, I just..."

"Then, come on." The other man stood, holding out his hand. "Half a dance. Please?"

Mulder licked his lips nervously, unwittingly sending a shock of electricity rocketing through the other man. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out and took the proffered hand and let Shawn lead him through the crowd and onto the dance floor.

Gently, Shawn pulled the other man against him and began to move.

"I knew you'd move like this," the blonde man moaned, pressing their bodies together. "Smooth. Like a big cat."

Okay, that was just a bit corny, but Mulder couldn't deny that he liked the feel of the other's body brushing so intimately against his.

And then his surroundings turned a sort of reddish gray.

Cautiously, Shawn nuzzled Mulder's ear before his tongue slithered out, teasing the sensitive interior. He smiled as he felt the other's body tighten, and his breath draw sharply.

Taking advantage of Mulder's momentary discomposure, his hand slid down to the deliciously rounded ass and pulled the slightly taller man forward, letting him feel the stony length of his erection.

"Mulder," he purred into the other man's ear. "I... I'm sorry, Mulder's just not sexy. Please tell me your first name."

A bit overwhelmed, Mulder curled his fingers in the material of Shawn's shirt and whispered shakily.

"Fox."

Shawn drew back, staring into glazed eyes. "Fox?"

The other nodded.

"Oh, God, now that's sexy." He moved in again, brushing the tip of his nose against Mulder's cheek before again murmuring into his ear.

"Come home with me, Fox. Let me make you feel the way your body is begging me to make you feel."

Mulder shook his head, whispering half-heartedly. "No N-no, I can't, I..."

"Yes you can," Shawn breathed. "Just take my hand and come with me. I promise, I'll make you feel like no one ever has."

Don't do it.

Slowly, Mulder's hand moved down the other man's back and dropped to his side, twining their fingers together.

Slut. Easy, pathetic slut...

Smiling, Shawn backed up, pulling Mulder with him. A few steps later, he turned around and led the other man through the sea of bodies and out to the exit.

As they stepped outside and the night air hit them, Mulder breathed deeply, trying to shake off the heavy lethargy that had claimed him in the thick heat of the club.

Apparently Shawn realized the possibility of losing his edge, because he stopped and dragged Mulder up against his body, laying a fast, demanding kiss on him, stealing his breath and weakening his limbs.

"God, you're irresistible," he sighed, gently humping the other man. "I've never wanted anyone so badly before..."

Far back in his muddled brain, Mulder knew it was bullshit. He knew the man had probably done this to every halfway decent looking, lonely guy he'd encountered, but at this precise moment in time, he just couldn't bring himself to care. He needed this, as temporary and superficial as it was, and he would not allow guilt or good sense to intervene.

"My car is just down the street," Shawn offered, nipping lightly as the lower lip that fascinated him so.

"Let's go," Mulder answered, being pulled down the street before the two words were even completely out of his mouth. He walked along with the man he'd met less than an hour ago, content to remain in his dream state until he glanced across the street.

A congregation of men. And cars. Dropping off and picking up, and he realized that those on the sidewalk were prostitutes. Male hookers doing business with anyone who would meet their price. And standing by a Jaguar, swaying against the probable owner of the car...

Shawn gasped slightly, being pulled backward by the man whose hand he held tightly to.

"Fox? What's wrong?"

Mulder gave no answer. Mainly because he'd not heard the question. He was too engrossed in watching the tall, dark, leather-jacketed man across the street.

It couldn't be.

But it looked so much like him.

Get off it. You know how many guys there are in the world with his build and coloring, who own leather jackets?

There could be thousands. Millions, and Mulder would be able to pick him out of the crowd.

The way he stood. The arrogant tilt of his head. Men could resemble him, but he could mistake no one for Alex Krycek.

The couple got into the car, the other man opening the door for Krycek's double, and the Jaguar roared away, leaving the man on the other side of the street staring stunned after it.

"Fox? Come on, babe, talk to me. All of a sudden you've just gone white. You feeling okay?"

Hazel eyes blinked rapidly, and Mulder looked back at the other man. "Yeah. Uh, yeah, I... Sh-Shawn, I'm sorry, I can't... I can't go with you."

"What? Why not?"

"I just... I can't, that's all. I'm really sorry."

"You don't mean that," Shawn drew nearer, touching his face. "You're just getting cold feet. Come with me, and it'll be okay..."

"No." Mulder shook his head. "It won't. This was a mistake from the beginning. I really am sorry. It's still early. You can find someone else."

"I want you."

"I can't." Mulder backed away. I thought I could, but I..."

"You wanted to. You wanted me."

"I... I know. But I don't now. Please, just let it go."

Anger finally got the better of Shawn when he realized that he would not be able to convince Mulder to change his mind.

"Fucking bitch! Goddamn cock tease," he shouted, drawing unwanted attention. "The pretty ones are all the same. Well, fuck you!" And with that, he spun on his heel and stalked off, finally leaving Mulder alone.

Without a second thought for the other man, Mulder turned and headed across the street.

"What's a gorgeous thing like you doing out here hustling?"

"What's a rich thing like you need a hustler for?"

The man behind the wheel chuckled. "You're quick. Not too quick, I hope. I like it long and slow and deep."

God, money made no difference. They were all a bunch of trite, phony assholes.

"How about you?"

"I like it the way you like it, baby," Alex purred, turning on the sugar as he rubbed his hand over the thousand dollar wad in his front pocket.

"I'm glad to hear that. We're going to have a good time, sexy."

Riiight.

The car pulled up to a darkened house, and the Jaguar rumbled to a stop inside the garage below the structure. The man alighted from the vehicle and stood, waiting for his hired companion to do the same. When Alex had stepped out, he smiled and waved him forward.

"Come on in."

Alex followed the man into the house, silently appraising his surroundings.

"Would you like something to drink? Anything to eat?"

"No. Thanks."

"Just want to get right to it, huh?"

Alex gave the man a forced smile. "Can't wait," he whispered in his smokiest tone, running his tongue over dry lips.

The other man grinned and led him into the huge bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. As he reached the king-size bed, he turned and faced the dark man.

"You are beautiful. Why don't you take off your jacket?"

Not advancing an inch, Alex removed his jacket and let it drop over a nearby chair, then returned his attention to the other man.

"Now, the rest of your clothes. Slowly. Tease yourself as you do it."

Alex did as he was asked, his eyes constantly rising to those of his temporary employer. Pulling his shirt off, his hands gently stroked his skin, lightly teasing his nipples.

"Beautiful and proud," the other droned. "That's what I thought as soon as I saw you. Can't be too proud, though, can you? Letting strangers fuck you for cash..."

Oh, good. One of those.

Alex knew the type. Wusses at work, impotent at home in the shadow of a domineering partner, and needing someone to denigrate.

"Do you enjoy being another man's hired bitch?" the other purred. "Do you enjoy being nothing more than a cheap fucktoy?"

Alex forced his clenching jaws to relax, telling himself as he always had to, that this was just temporary. Soon enough it'd be over, and he'd be a thousand dollars richer and none the worse for wear...

Sable lashes drooped over the dark eyes, and Alex pinched a nipple, gasping for the stupid shit's pleasure. "Yes."

"Good. Because you're my bitch for the next two hours. Now, finish undressing."

Alex removed the rest of his clothing, standing in the middle of the room, fondling his cock and balls as he watched the other man watching him.

Drawing labored breaths, the man ran one hand over his crotch and stepped away from the bed.

"Come here, bitch. Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me."

The right of corner of Alex's mouth twitched, and he slowly dropped to his knees then leaned forward onto his hands. Gathering up every ounce of self-control, he crawled to the man and rubbed his cheek over the silk-covered thigh.

"Good boy," the other croaked, unzipping his pants. "Now, suck my cock."

Alex reared back on his knees and glared up at the other man, all pretense gone. "Not without a rubber."

"I'm clean."

"That's nice. No rubber, no head."

"You're spoiling the mood."

"Tough."

The other man sighed, going over to the nightstand and pulling a condom out of it. Rolling it on, he again took his place in front of Alex. "You're too damn cocky, you know that?"

"I've heard."

"I think I should turn you over my knee."

"Thought you wanted me to suck your cock?"

"I think you need a spanking more."

The green eyed man emitted a harsh laugh. "You could try."

The game had changed a bit. No problem. He was adaptable.

The other man reached forward, grabbing a handful of sable hair and pulling firmly but not so hard that it hurt. He knew that thousand dollars or no, this whore would not take it. He dragged Alex with him over to the bed and attempted to pull him up onto the mattress.

Putting up an adequate struggle, Alex allowed the man to come out on top, letting himself be forced onto his stomach on the mattress. The man kneeled above him, pinning his arms over his head.

"So," the man panted, raising his hand and letting it come down with a firm crack over Alex's ass. "You were saying?"

Alex groaned and struggled against the hands that held his wrists pinned to the bed.

God, the shit he did for a buck...

He jumped at the delivery of the second smack, and whimpered loudly. "Please, don't. God, it hurts. I'll do anything..."

Once again firmly entrenched in his fantasy, the man gave Alex another smack, this one harder than the first two, pulling a sharp yelp from him.

Watch yourself, asshole, or the party's gonna be over real quick...

"You asked for it, pretty bitch. I'll bet you've been asking for it for a while." He leaned down, letting his words vibrate in Alex's ear. "But no one's been man enough to give it to you until now..."

Christ. Oh, yeah, stud. You da man.

Alex writhed and ground his hips into the mattress.

"Look at you. You need it bad, don't you?"

"Yes," Alex choked, turning his head to look beseechingly up at the man. "I n-need it. Please..."

Spitting distance from Hollywood and a brilliant career in acting, and what am I doing?

The man released Alex's wrists and ordered him to turn over. As soon as he had, his customer immediately kneeled over him, straddling his throat. The idiot never even noticed that he wasn't the least bit aroused.

"Open your mouth, whore."

Holding his sheathed cock by the base, he rubbed it over Alex's lips, groaning when the talented tongue stroked over the head. With a quick flick of his wrist, he hit Alex's mouth with the rigid shaft, watching satisfied as the other man flinched.

"You didn't ask permission," he sang softly, hitting the prone man again, harder.

"Please," Alex gasped, having all he could do to keep from biting the man's dick off.

"That's better. Ane since you asked so nicely..."

Before he could take a proper breath, the cock was being shoved down his throat, pistoning in and out as the other managed to capture his hands and pin them down by his head.

Truly on the verge of choking, Alex fought to free himself, but he was in a much less advantageous position, and the sheer momentum of the older man's actions severely handicapped his coordination. He lay trapped beneath the other's weight, attempting to regulate his breathing and relax his throat, and just before he succumbed to failure, the man pulled out of his mouth, roughly rubbing his cock against his face.

"How's that, bitch?" the man gasped, fast in the grip of his own personal form of hysteria. "You like that?"

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, waiting for his chance. The moment the man's cock came close enough, he moved, clamping his teeth painfully down on the shaft.

"Shit! Oh... oh. shit..."

Alex tightened his jaws a bit more, drawing a pained and frightened whimper from the other man.

"Please," he begged breathlessly, doing his best not to move. "I'm... I'm sorry. Just got a little carried away..."

"Yeah, you did, Alex hissed after letting his teeth scrape along the length of the latex-covered shaft. "Get the fuck off me."

Grateful to still be fully intact, the man scrambled off the bed. Alex immediately followed, pinning him by the front of his Gucci shirt to the nearest wall.

"You blew it, motherfucker. You could have played your stupid little game and come like you never have before, but you had to get greedy."

"Sorry... I'm sorry."

"You really are," Alex sneered, letting the man go and getting dressed. When he'd finished tucking his shirt into his pants, he picked up his jacket and turned back to the man who had now slumped down in a pathetic heap on the bed.

"I'll be driving your car back. Don't worry, I won't wreck it. I'll leave it two blocks east of where you picked me up in the parking lot of Lupe's Mexican restaurant. Pick it up there after one."

The other man nodded and said nothing.

Unable to resist himself, Alex smacked the back of the other's head.

"Later, bitch."

Alex strolled out of the house, not allowing himself to breathe until he was on his way back to boy's town.

He'd been lucky, and he knew it. As he'd suspected, this asshole really was nothing more than a rich, sniveling weakling trying to play it big, but he very well could have been exactly what he had tried to be. It wouldn't have been the first time Alex had run into that kind of trouble.

It had happened not long after he'd arrived in California. He'd conducted business with one man... left the area with the same man, and when they'd arrived at their destination, there were three others waiting. They'd taken him by surprise, dragging him snarling and cursing to the floor, but far from easily.

He had put up a vicious fight, and the none of the four men had escaped the brunt of his fury, but in the end, they had managed to get the better of him, and each had a turn, brutally assaulting him.

Laughing, the group had thrown a hundred dollars at him and limped away, leaving him badly battered and bruised, and out of commission for almost two weeks. Fortunately, he'd tested negative for STDs, and the memories of that night had made him much more cautious. He'd re-employed the instincts that had kept him alive during his Consortium years, and was never again taken by surprise. In fact, his attitude had given him such a reputation that regulars down in boys' town had nicknamed him 'The Executioner'. Truthfully, he was shocked that he'd attracted as much business as he had...

He pulled into the lot of the restaurant and parked the car, throwing the keys on the floor and locking the door. Chuckling to himself, he stalked out onto the sidewalk and made his way back to his territory.

Weary, hazel eyes searched the throng for almost two hours, looking for the one Mulder knew he'd seen.

While he stood there in the shadows of a dark doorway, he'd been approached several times by men with tired lines and more money than brains. Generally, they just moved on when he declined, but a couple of times he had to go so far as to flash his badge. The would-be customers quickly slunk away, grateful that they'd been fortunate enough to elude arrest.

Now, he stood unbothered, searching, searching, and when he was just about to throw in the towel, a familiar figure caught his eye.

The tall, dark man in the black leather jacket. The same one who had gotten into the Jaguar with that older man.

The very same one who had tormented him for years...

Alex Krycek moved smoothly through the crowd, drawing the attention of hookers and johns alike, and the intense focus of the man hidden from view in the doorway.

Taking a seat on his usual bench, he stretched out, assuming an arrogant sprawl and was immediately approached by a man who looked to be about his age. They spoke for a short while, then Alex got up and escorted the man around the corner as unseen, a third joined the private party.

"I've never done this before," the young man whispered urgently. "I just dropped my date off at home, and it was a first date, and he didn't want to... he had these beautiful green eyes, and the way he danced. I swear, he was doing it on purpose. I was just so turned on..."

Alex shook his head, amused by the other man's anxiousness.

"Okay, slow down or you're going to hyperventilate." He backed the nervous man into a dark corner, stroking his chest. "What do you want?"

"I need... I... I just want to take the edge off, you know? And you've got the same color eyes..."

"Uh huh. All right, baby, take it easy." Slowly, his hand drifted downward, caressing the bulge in the other man's pants. "How about a nice blowjob?"

"Yeah. God, yeah."

"Seventy-five bucks."

Quickly, the man dug into his pockets, counted out seventy-five dollars, then let his head thump back against the brick as Alex dropped to his knees. He looked up at the overcome man and smiled. "You got a rubber?"

"Oh... sorry. Yeah. I uh..." the customer reached into his back pocket and pulled a packet out.

Alex took the foil wrapped condom from the young man and unzipped his pants, pulling his already weeping cock out. Efficiently, he tore open the package and rolled the condom on.

From his vantage point, Mulder watched, anger and some other emotion he couldn't name stabbing at his insides as Krycek sucked the other man's cock down his throat.

The other man pressed his lips together, fighting valiantly to keep silent while the hooker's head bobbed quickly on his cock. But his orgasm was approaching fast and furious, and Jesus Christ, it felt so good...

Alex grasped the standing man's hips, forcing him to move in a frantic rhythm, and before he knew it, the other was sobbing uncontrollably as his cock shot a bountiful load of semen into the reservoir of the condom.

The young man slumped against the wall when it was done, chest heaving as Alex rose to his feet and gave him a tolerant nod.

"Good luck with your new boyfriend. Hope he's worth the wait."

The shadows receded as Alex turned and sauntered away, and when he was safely past, Mulder slowly moved out into the open.

"Jesus."

An exclamation of dismay and arousal... and that one other emotion that he couldn't name.

Before he could even try to talk himself out of it, he stepped cautiously back out onto the street and found the object of his search prowling through the crowd, heading down the opposite way from which he had come.

Following at a safe distance, Mulder walked quietly behind the other man, ducking out of sight at the slightest hint that Krycek was going to stop or turn around. Ten minutes later, his quarry ducked into an old, three story apartment building in a rundown but comparatively quiet neighborhood. To his good fortune, he discovered that Krycek's apartment faced the street, because seconds after the other man had disappeared inside, a light went on in the second window from the north corner on the second floor of the otherwise dark apartment.

Memorizing that information, he stood for a while longer, staring up at the window until the light finally went out, then made his way back to where he'd parked his car.

For the entire duration of the twenty minute walk and the drive back to his hotel, Mulder's thoughts never left the man he thought he'd never see again, let alone see here in L.A... doing the things he was doing.

Yeah, Alex Krycek had always been an amoral low life, but this. Sure, he looked the same, and okay, his arrogance seemed firmly in place, but there was something. Something there behind all the attitude that tugged at Mulder's heart.

This was bad. Oh, God, this was very, very bad. He shouldn't be feeling this way. He couldn't be. Alex Krycek deserved no pity from him.

He shook his head as he pulled up to the hotel and handed the keys to the valet.

No, it wasn't pity. It was... God, it was a possessive kind of tenderness, that, when he'd finally put his finger on it, made his head pound and his cock throb, and Jesus God, this just couldn't be. Possessiveness? Tenderness?

No. Not a chance in hell. Pity was better. He could live with feeling pity. He didn't have to drive himself up the walls, asking himself how the fuck he could possibly be feeling pity. He wouldn't spend the entire night awake like he knew he was going to, fantasizing about what could come of these intense feelings of pity if he went to Krycek and admitted them...

Mulder reached the elevators and stumbled into the first available car. Thankfully, it was empty. He fell against the wall, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes.

God, why? Why does he continue to appear in my life and turn everything upside down?

What the hell are complaining about? You know deep down you missed him.

No. No, I... fuck! I don't want to. I don't want to miss him. I don't want to think about him. Whatever his life is now... however it turned out, it serves him right for all the damage he's done.

But in the end, he came through. Stop pushing that little fact conveniently to the side. He's not exactly who you thought he was.

No, he isn't. Now you can add whore to your list. He fucks and sucks other men for money, Mulder. Is that what you want?

The elevator stopped on Mulder's floor, and he stepped into the hall, walking on shaky legs to his room. Unlocking the door, he wandered in and fell in a boneless heap across the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

But, why is he doing it? For kicks? Because he needs the money? What would have happened that he would end up hustling on the streets of L.A.?

Mulder closed his eyes, unable to get the image of Krycek on his knees, sucking that man's cock in that dirty alley out of his mind.

No. Something had to have gone terribly wrong before or just after he left Washington. The Alex Krycek Mulder knew got on his knees for no one.

Anger surged again, but the emotion was not directed at Krycek. It was for him. Mulder lay on his bed, face twisted into a scowl as he imagined the things his once brazen, cocksure adversary was forced to do for money.

It wasn't right. Alex Krycek was a beautiful, proud son of a bitch, and...

And...

And he couldn't believe he was thinking this stuff. When the fuck had he noticed that Alex Krycek was beautiful?

Mulder rolled over onto his stomach then rolled right back into his original position groaning at the pressure of his throbbing cock against the mattress.

Are you kidding? You'd have to be stone blind not to have noticed.

"Stop!" he shouted at himself, jerking into a sitting position. "So he's here. So he's out there in the street, selling himself. So what? It's not your fucking concern! Forget about Alex Krycek. He's out of your life. Leave it that way."

Good pep talk.

Too bad it was about to go over like a lead balloon.

Mulder hauled himself up off of the bed and stormed into the bathroom, turning the shower on full cold. Stripping off his clothing, he stepped under the frigid spray, attempting to freeze out all thoughts of the man who had brought him nothing but trouble since they'd met.

Teeth chattering, Mulder refused to leave the shower until his erection had completely subsided. When he had finally gone soft, he turned the shower to warm, washed quickly, dried himself and fell naked into bed. He'd barely closed his eyes when images of Krycek returned to haunt him.

Only this time, it wasn't some faceless stranger he was sucking off...

Mulder gritted his teeth so hard, he thought they'd crack, but nothing stopped his cock from re-awakening. Painfully fast it sprang to life, rasping against the sheet and screaming for relief.

Furiously, Mulder threw the sheet off and wrapped his hand around the aching shaft, jerking frantically. He came in a matter of seconds, groans strained through his still clenched teeth. Exhausted and still strangely dissatisfied, he lay there, hand closed limply around his spent cock... and his mind started to work...

Five-twelve a.m.

One green eye slowly opened and glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. It snapped shut, and its owner emitted a soft whine.

Christ, what's that? Three hours?

Alex Krycek lay quietly, trying for all he was worth to go back to sleep, but twenty minutes later he gave up and rolled out of bed, cursing to himself.

So many months had gone by. He thought that by now he would have taught himself to sleep in, but no way. No matter what time he went to bed, his eyes were usually open before six. And since his new business was generally done at night, he rarely slept for more than five hours any more.

Dragging himself into the bathroom, he showered, brushed his teeth and, throwing on a faded pair of jeans and a stretched out t-shirt, he padded barefoot into the kitchen to make some coffee.

While the coffee brewed, Alex stood at the counter spinning his Frosted Flakes around in his cereal bowl. When they'd finally gone soggy, he drained the milk into the sink and dumped the cereal into the trash. He poured himself a cup of black coffee and drifted into the living room, sitting on the wide window sill and looking down at the street.

There was some movement below, but very little. Certainly not enough to distract his attention from the thoughts that had begun to seep into his brain.

Images of himself. In some future time, sitting on the porch of a small house. Cabin, maybe. Far from the stink and the noise of the city. Fresh air. No construction, no traffic, no horny assholes waving money in his face...

Just him.

Alone.

By himself.

As always.

God, he didn't want to be alone. He wanted someone. Someone he could go to sleep and wake up with. Someone who would want all of him and not care who he had been and what he had done...

Oh, yeah, sure. There's no such animal.

Well... you can dream, can't you?

He closed his eyes and began to elaborate on his fantasy.

There he was. Sitting on that front porch. Coffee mug balanced on bent knee as he read the paper. His partner... his lover approaching from inside the house... a soft smile on his beautiful lips... such tenderness in his eyes.

Magnificent, changeable hazel eyes...

Alex's head snapped up, and he blinked rapidly.

What the hell was that? Why was he suddenly thinking about this man?

Stop. Just knock it the fuck off. Mulder was ages ago. He's not in your life anymore. Fuck, and even when he was, it was nothing like what you're imagining, so, why?

Thumping his head against the window frame, Alex moaned softly wondering what it would be like to have those gorgeous eyes looking on him with affection and not hatred. He wondered what it would feel like to have those long, elegant fingers wrapped around his cock and not his throat. And he wanted to know what it would be like to have that strong, sinuous body pushing his into a mattress instead of slamming it up against a parked car or an airport wall...

Oh man, you've lost it, you know that? You've finally lost it. Stop this insanity. This is your life... at least for now, and when it isn't, it'll just be you. And a dog, maybe.

Still, even knowing what a deranged fantasy it was, he couldn't help wondering...

Night.

Finally.

Mulder had spent most of the day sightseeing, but if asked what he'd seen, he didn't know that he'd really be able to say. Most of that time had been spent in a haze of confusion. The only time he'd given his full attention to anything was when his gaze caught a man resembling the one he'd watched so intently last night, weaving his way through a throng of shoppers across from the sidewalk cafe where he was sitting. By the time he'd made it across the busy street, the man had disappeared.

Moving back to his seat at the cafe, Mulder had dropped heavily into the chair, asking himself just what the hell he thought he was going to do if he had caught up with the man and found out that he was indeed who he'd thought.

Did he think he was going to talk to him?

What if Krycek didn't want to talk? What if he'd spit in Mulder's face and told him to fuck off?

Thinking himself right into a massive headache, he'd paid his tab, left the cafe and made his way back to his hotel room, where he'd jerked off and then had a nap before heading out again after nightfall.

Now, here he was, across from the very place he'd first seen the object of his growing obsession.

Waiting.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.

Hazel eyes narrowed on the dark figure that had appeared from the south, moving through the parting crowd. Before he could reach his usual bench, his attention was drawn to a Cadillac that had just pulled up to the curb. Mulder watched, blood racing as Krycek prowled over to the vehicle and bent to talk to the driver. Seconds later, he opened the door and got in, and the car pulled into traffic and left the area.

After standing frozen for what seemed like ages, Mulder willed his legs to work, and he crossed over to the other side of the street. Not exactly sure why he'd done so, he wandered through the crowd, studying the men as they studied him. When one approached him and asked if he'd like some company for the evening, he answered the hooker's question with one of his own.

"Do you know all the guys who work this area?"

The slight blonde looked him up and down. "Maybe. What's it to you?"

"Do you know the one with dark hair and green eyes? He just left here in a Cadillac."

The other man heaved an exaggerated sigh. "You mean the Executioner?"

"The what?"

"That's what the regulars around here call him. Look, do you want to spend some time with me or what?"

Mulder shook his head. "No. No, I'm sorry, I just..."

The man threw his hand up in front of Mulder's face and turned to walk away.

"Wait."

"You're wasting my time, handsome. I'm not out here for simple chit chat."

"I'll make it worth your while."

Cocking his head, the blonde sashayed back in Mulder's direction. "Will you, now? And all you want to do is talk?"

"That's it. It'll only take a couple of minutes."

"Hmm. Okay, forty bucks."

Mulder pulled his wallet out, plucking out two twenties and handed them to the other man.

"What d'you want to know?"

"I want to know about the man we were talking about. The Executioner as you call him."

The other shrugged. "Well. We ain't exactly friends. He ain't nobody's friend. But man, the customers love him."

"Why?"

"I ask myself that same question. Sure, he's gorgeous, but he's got an attitude as big as all outdoors. Word is, he's beat the shit out of a few of his own customers. That's how he got the nickname..."

One corner of Mulder's mouth twitched into a tiny grin.

''Plus, he charges more than anybody else around here. Still, they flock to him."

"He must be good."

"Guess so."

"How long's he been here?"

The other shrugged. "Months. I don't know."

"So, you said he charges more than anybody else. About how much would that be?"

"I think it depends on the customer. But, like... where the rest of us are charging twenty-five to fifty for a head job, he starts at like, seventy-five. And they give it to him. Unfuckinbelievable."

Nodding, Mulder handed the man another twenty and thanked him for his time then moved to an inconspicuous spot.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, thoughts... crazy thoughts started to spin through his pounding head. Then, suddenly, before he could count the reasons why he shouldn't, he turned and stalked off, an insane plan forming in his head.

"Oh, God. Oh, yeah, baby."

Beads of sweat pricked the older man's forehead as he drove harder and harder into the man beneath him. The tightening muscles around his cock as he withdrew, took him straight to the edge of desperation, and his movements turned frantic.

"Jeez. Oh... oh, Christ. Yeah. Harder. Oh, God... oh, my God..." He tried fasten his lips on the other man's, but was immediately pushed away.

"Come on, baby," Alex purred, distracting the man and clamping down as tightly as he could on his cock while kneading his back and ass. "So good. Fuck me... faster... that's it. Come on, give it to me."

Losing all control, the man slammed into Alex, grunting loudly as he came. He collapsed on top of the younger man, gasping, but the prostitute gave him no time to catch his breath. Alex pushed him onto the mattress then rolled away and, picking his clothing up, headed toward the bathroom.

Appearing minutes later, Alex approached the bed, where the man still lay face-down.

"Are you alive?"

The salt and pepper head nodded slowly, and the man rolled onto his back, staring up into apathetic, green eyes. "You're fucking amazing."

No answer.

"I don't think I've ever come so hard..."

"I gotta go."

The other man sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh. Okay, uh... just let me go get dressed." He gathered up his garments and brushed by Alex, stroking the stubbled cheek as he moved.

Alex flinched slightly, but the other man was so wrapped up in satisfaction he hadn't even noticed. Now alone in the room, he walked over to the window and drew the curtain aside, gazing blindly out at the street below. He was still staring when his customer emerged from the bathroom and walked up behind him. The light but sudden pressure of arms closing around him brought him back to startling reality.

"Shit!" the man shouted, being knocked back into the wall. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"Why'd you do that?"

"I... I didn't mean you any harm. I just... I only wanted to... well, you just looked kind of sad."

"I'm fine," Alex snapped. "And even if I wasn't... you always go around hugging hookers?"

"N-no. It's not something I make a habit of. But like I said, you just looked... I thought you could use one."

"Very sensitive of you, but if our paths ever cross again, I'll tell you now. Don't ever do that again."

"I'm sorry," the other man apologized. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Whatever." Alex snatched up his jacket and headed to the door. "I gotta get back."

"Yeah. Sure," the other man said soothingly, remembering what he'd heard about this guy's temper. "No problem. Come on, I'll take you back."

Less than an hour later, Alex was back at his apartment, having decided on an early evening. He was in no mood for any more bullshit tonight, regardless of how little he'd made.

He entered the small, tidy apartment as he did every night, removing his jacket and hanging it on the hook behind the door. Next, he turned on the light and faced into the living room, frowning.

Standing stone still, his eyes scanned all that he could see, determining that nothing was out of place or missing. Still, there was something.

Performing another scan, his eyes went to the envelope lying on his coffee table. Quietly passing it by, he checked the other rooms, and when he was satisfied that no one was there, he returned to the main room and sat down on the sofa.

What the hell is this?

Looking around once more, he gently lifted the envelope, noting that it was fairly heavy. Carefully, he ripped open the flap and peered inside.

Money. And nestled beside the bills, a folded piece of white paper.

Withdrawing the contents, he quickly counted out a thousand dollars then unfolded the paper and read the carefully printed block-style note.

A thousand now, another thousand when you meet me at the Regent Beverly Wilshire tomorrow night. Ten o'clock, room 1214. Another thousand if you spend an entire two hours with me. The door will be unlocked.

Alex stared at the note and then the money.

Three thousand dollars for two hours.

Freak.

It was the first word that came to his mind, and his immediate thought was to keep the grand he had and just not show up. But that curious little voice inside him told him to go. Just be extremely careful and go see what this was all about...

The lights in the second floor apartment went out, and though they could no longer see a thing, dark eyes continued to stare up at the window.

He'll come.

Mulder's heart pounded frantically in his chest at thought of what he'd just gotten himself into.

No turning back now. Whatever happens, there's no turning back.

Nine p.m.

Alex looked at the clock, drumming his fingers on his knee.

Now or never.

He'd spent the entire day cleaning, reading... anything he could find to do to keep his eyes off of the clock, but they always managed to sneak a peek at it.

He couldn't understand what all the anxiety was about. It wasn't like he'd never been in a rich man's hotel room before, but there was something about this encounter... a feeling he had that wouldn't go away. In fact, it only got stronger as the hour got later.

He'd asked himself time and time again during the course of the day if he just might not like to change his mind about the whole thing, but the answer was always the same.

You have to go.

And it wasn't just the three grand... okay, yeah, that had something to do with it, but not everything. He wasn't sure what the other reason was, but he did know that if he didn't go, he'd spend the rest of his life wondering. And he hated not to satisfy his curiosity once piqued.

He walked into the bathroom and checked his appearance in the full length mirror, smoothing and tucking the black clothing he'd chosen, then turned and quickly exited the apartment.

Nine fifty

Mulder drew a deep breath and looked down at the busy street. Why, he didn't know. At this height, he doubted seriously that any figure would be easily discernible, but he watched anyway. When the white taxi pulled up, and a dark figure stepped out, his heart began to pound triple time. And he knew with all certainty that this was the man he'd been waiting for.

Well, here you are, Alex told himself as he walked through the elegant lobby of the Regent looking for all the world like he belonged there. Quickly locating the elevators, he took a deep breath and took the first available car to the twelfth floor. Once there, his pace slowed as he walked the length of the corridor, counting off the room numbers.

Twelve-ten, twelve-eleven...

He stopped in front of room twelve-fourteen and stood at the door, listening. Not a sound could be heard within, but he willed his hand to touch the knob and open the door. It was indeed unlocked as the note had specified, and he walked into the dimly lit room. Looking around, he found a note on the table by the window propped against a bucket of chilling wine. He lifted the small slip of paper and read.

Next to this note you will find a black silk scarf. Please put it over your eyes and tie it behind your head. You will not be harmed in any way, but should you change your mind, the second thousand dollars is in the envelope to the right of the ice bucket. You may take it and leave.

Alex hesitated, passing his tongue over suddenly dry lips, then, glancing around once more, he lifted the envelope and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. His fingers went down to the black silk, skimming over its softness, then closed around the material and secured it over his eyes.

Seconds passed, and he felt a presence in the room. Drifting nearer and nearer, it stopped directly behind him. A hand stroked up along one sleeve, and even through the leather, Alex could feel it trembling. Breath, warm and sweet fanned his neck as a second hand repeated the action on his other arm and his jacket was gently pulled away.

Finding his voice, Alex took a deep breath and asked, "What's with the blindfold? You butt ugly or something?"

No response.

"You gonna talk to me?"

Faintly scratchy skin brushed the back of his neck, and he felt the negative shake of the man's head.

"So, how am I supposed to know what it is you want me to do?"

A hard body pressed up against his, and the man reached past him, dragging what he assumed was a chair away from the table. Gently, he was maneuvered and pushed down into the plush seat, and a nervous hand glided over his hair before the presence receded a bit. He heard the other sit as well, and then there was the tinkle of ice, and the sound of liquid being poured. A glass was pressed into his hand, and he felt the coolness of the wine searing his extremely warm palm.

"If you think I'm going to sit here blindfolded and drink something you gave me, you're out of your fucking mind."

The presence drew near again, and from the proximity of it, Alex figured that the man was now kneeling before him. A hand wrapped around the one holding the glass and guided it to the other's lips. On his own, Alex lifted his other hand and touched the spot where the man's lips met the glass. Satisfied that the other was drinking, he pulled the glass away and tentatively raised it to his lips.

The wine soothed his parched throat, and Alex lowered the glass after a long drink, balancing it on the edge of the table. He sat quietly for long seconds, waiting for... something, but when the other made no move, he spoke again.

"The wine is nice and everything, but... I gotta let you in on a little secret. Getting me lit isn't necessary. I'm a sure bet."

Mulder's body tensed at the utterance of the few words.

Yes, he was. Of course he was.

The man was a hooker, for God's sake. A prostitute who was only here for the money. None of this meant anything to him. He cared about nothing. He felt nothing.

And that knowledge saddened him as much as it angered him. Perhaps just a little bit more.

Bringing a hand to Krycek's face, Mulder stroked the creased brow then slid down his cheek and cupped his face. Slowly, he moved forward, and as his lips just barely brushed Krycek's, the younger man jerked away.

"No kissing."

Mulder froze, their lips just millimeters apart. Letting Krycek feel the caress of his breath for a while longer, he then shifted and let his mouth whisper across the other's jaw.

Quickly checking a slight shudder, Alex raised the glass again to his lips.

Mulder watched with fascination as the blindfolded man drank, still unable to believe that he had done this. Alex Krycek... hated enemy turned grudging ally, here. Thousands of miles from where they'd started. Back in his life in a way he'd never have dreamed.

"You can't possibly be paying me three grand to sit and drink wine, I don't care how rich and eccentric you are."

The other man's words jarred Mulder out of his thoughts and brought his attention back to the task at hand.

Still kneeling before the seated man, Mulder drew a hand over one tense thigh, stopping far short of Krycek's crotch and slipping down to glide over the side of his leg. Up the hand moved, over the younger man's hip and waist, then over the taut belly to his chest, stopping to tease the patch of skin visible just above the first fastened button.

Alex placed the glass on the table and sat quietly while the kneeling man gently parted his legs and moved between them. Now brushing lightly against his hardening cock, the other leaned forward and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, his mouth touching each inch of newly exposed skin...

Alex drew an unsteady breath, trying to maintain his cool while attempting to understand why his body was reacting this way. It was just another job, for Christ's sake. Just like the hundreds of others. He'd never felt anything before; why now? He'd only had what he estimated to be a half glass of wine, so he couldn't blame it on that. He'd had men try to seduce him before... clumsily... and felt nothing.

Now there was this man. This john, this customer who had bought and paid for him for two hours, and he was making him feel like... like...

He couldn't describe it. It wasn't that the man was all that smooth. He could sense the nervousness. He could feel it. But there was something else. He couldn't quite identify it, but it was enough to turn his cock to stone and make him want to stay.

Fighting to maintain control, Mulder undid the last visible button then pulled Krycek's shirt free of his pants and unfastened the rest. Slowly, he pushed the shirt away from the younger man's chest, letting his hands move reverently over the bared flesh. His mouth soon followed, caressing the warm skin, learning its taste and texture. The nearly inaudible whimper that his touch produced swelled his cock to ridiculous proportions and gave him the courage to let his tongue flick over one tight, brown nipple.

Unconsciously, Alex's fingers gripped each arm of the chair, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. His lips parted slightly, allowing tiny puffs of breath to escape, and when he felt his unseen seducer's mouth close over the nipple he'd been teasing, the soft panting gave way to low groans of pleasure.

Somewhere in the back of Mulder's lust-fogged brain, he thought that maybe Krycek was acting... giving the customer his money's worth, but at this particular moment in time, he couldn't force himself to care. He was too far into it... too immersed in the fantasy, and he wouldn't allow any such thoughts to take control.

Slowly, he licked his way across Krycek's chest and latched onto the second nipple, this time biting gently and flicking his tongue over the very tip. He could feel the younger man's body tense as he fought to remain seated, and the reaction only served to spur him on to more daring acts.

Alex's breath caught in his throat as the warm, soft tongue traveled down his quivering abdomen, and the other's hands worked at unfastening his pants. He felt his belt and top button give, then heard the soft grind of the zipper as it descended, revealing the black silk boxers he wore. His head fell back, and a tormented sob left his throat as the other man kissed and nuzzled his rigid cock through the material.

This was too much. Too unbelievable for words. He wanted to say something. Ask the man why... how it was he was doing this to him, but the words wouldn't come. They couldn't. Nothing but unintelligible, needy sounds would make it past his constricted throat. And as gentle hands lifted his hips to pull the clothing away, he could do nothing but comply.

Mulder bit back a gasp as now freed, the younger man's cock sprang forth, seemingly reaching toward him.

All right, this was no act. The man was turned on, there was no doubt about it.

Mulder smiled.

And he had done it.

Not that Krycek knew who it was that was about to suck his cock down his throat, but Mulder knew. And the thought of it. God, just the thought of it...

He lowered his head, inhaling the clean, musky scent... memorizing it, and then his tongue touched the base... slid only millimeters up the thick shaft, and a hand threaded itself through his hair, stopping him.

"Rubber," Krycek panted, licking his lips. "Need a... a rubber."

But Mulder didn't want a rubber. He wanted to smell. To taste Alex. Still, he knew that the other man was right. He was clean, certainly. But Krycek didn't know that. And he couldn't deny the fact that the man here in this chair, responding so beautifully to his attentions had been with many more men than he cared to think about.

Mulder pulled away and waited silently.

Realizing what was happening, Alex reached down into his pants pocket and withdrew a packet, holding it out in offering.

Gingerly, Mulder took the object, kissing the other's hand before releasing it. With shaking fingers, he ripped the package open and placed the condom over the moist tip of the younger man's cock and rolled it down to the base. As Krycek began to squirm beneath him, he slid one hand over his hip to hold him still while the other grasped the latex- sheathed shaft. Gently scraping his teeth over the head, he mourned the loss of Krycek's taste and smell, but made the best of it.

Alex twitched as the other's mouth closed over the head of his cock and slowly slid down the length of it. One of the hands that had been so tightly clenched around the arm of the chair moved over the other man's shoulders and up through the silky hair, petting and combing.

"God."

He hadn't thought he'd said the word aloud, but it tumbled from his lips on a shaky whisper just loud enough for the man at his feet to hear.

Ignoring the tremendous ache of his own cock, Mulder concentrated solely on Krycek's pleasure, ever-so-slowly working his way down the rock solid shaft, relaxing his throat, taking in more and more as the hand at the younger man's hip began to move, stroking and caressing the heated flesh. The younger man rose up out of the chair, pushing the remainder of his cock down Fox's throat as he shuddered uncontrollably.

Jesus, it had been so long since he'd felt pleasure like this. He hadn't even thought himself capable any more, and yet here he was, writhing and whimpering at another's touch. Needing it more than he needed his next breath... more than the three grand promised to him as compensation for this nearly complete surrender of his body.

As Mulder gently sucked Alex into mindless oblivion, the thought occurred to him to pull away and prolong the moment, but the desperation of the younger man's reactions told him that the time wasn't right. Alex needed this badly, he suspected, and he didn't have the heart to tease him tonight.

Maybe next time... assuming there'll be a next time.

Mulder uncurled his fingers from around the other man's cock and sank down upon it, not stopping until his nose was buried in the thatch of dark hair at Alex's groin.

"God... jeez..." Alex sobbed. "It's too... please..."

Heeding the frantic plea for fulfillment, Mulder withdrew, his tongue dancing along the underside of the shaft then lashing at the flared head before again swallowing the whole of the other's length. He repeated the act only twice before increasing his speed and pressure, effectively driving Alex to the very brink of madness.

An anguished sob escaped the younger man as for the first time in he couldn't remember how long, he felt the onset of orgasm. His unseen benefactor sensed his precarious condition and moved faster, all at once milking his body and mind, and taking him screaming over the edge.

Mulder held gently to the other man as he bucked and shook, allowing his body its long denied release. The sound of Alex Krycek losing control was one he was positive that neither he nor his cock would ever forget.

As the frenzied sounds of satisfaction faded, Alex slumped in his chair, chest heaving as he attempted to drag much needed air into his lungs. While he sat too exhausted to move, Mulder slid the condom off of him and carefully discarded it. For long seconds the older man remained kneeling, admiring the relaxed pout of the mouth he so wanted to kiss, then slowly rose to his feet and disappeared into the bathroom. Seconds later, Alex felt his returned presence then the soothing warmth of a damp towel as it gently stroked his withered cock.

Fox gently cleaned the younger man up then sat a good while longer, head resting in his lap, absorbing the wamth of him. When his time was almost up, he reluctantly began to button the black shirt. He waited a bit longer then pulled the black pants up and refastened them. When the other man was once again fully dressed, Mulder remained at his feet, tenderly stroking his thigh. The urge to speak was strong, but he squashed it, positive that the shock of finding out who had just gotten him off would not be a welcome one.

And when do you think it will be?

Don't know. Probably never. Mulder looked up into the passion-weary face, wishing he could see the younger man's eyes. Or maybe very soon. Maybe he'll become so addicted that he won't give a shit that it's you.

Holding on to that wish, Mulder lifted himself from the floor and walked over to the dresser. Removing an envelope from the top drawer, he approached the still seated man and placed the last thousand dollars in his lap. He ran the fingers of one hand through Alex's hair, brushed a soft kiss over the sable strands, and exited the room.

Alex sat quietly, now breathing normally and listened to a door open and close. His hand drifted into his lap, tentatively fingering the bulging envelope.

The last of the money as promised.

"Are you there?" he asked hopefully, knowing in his heart that the other man was not. Slowly, he brought his hands up to the blindfold and untied the silk, letting it fall away from his face. Looking around the empty room, his attention again fell to the envelope in his lap. A frown creased his brow as he picked at the flap.

Why the hell would some guy pay three grand to do nothing but get him off? There were some freaks in California, and he'd hustled quite a few of them, but this one was different. No matter how off the others were, they all had one concern in common... their own pleasure.

Not this man.

And Alex didn't know what to think.

What's to think about? If the nut wants to shell out that kind of green just to suck your cock, who are you to ask questions? Take the money and split.

Tearing the envelope open, Alex withdrew the money and quickly counted out the correct amount. As he returned the money, he noticed a slip of folded paper inside. He pulled the note out and read the simple message:

Thank you for trusting me. If you're not otherwise engaged, I would like very much to see you again on Tuesday. Same time. Same arrangement.

Alex folded the note and blew out a hard breath.

"Shit."

Same arrangement.

Another blindfolded blowjob? Another three grand?

"Gee, how will I survive it?" Alex asked himself softly, his heart pounding at the thought of having this man's mouth on him again.

So, you gonna show up on Tuesday?

Alex rose from the chair and walked on slightly weakened legs to the door. He turned the knob and, before he entered the hall, looked around the room.

Hell of a stupid question.

Glittering hazel eyes watched as the man in black exited the hotel and flagged down a taxi. When the vehicle pulled away from the curb, Mulder turned away from the tenth floor window and took the elevator back to his own floor. Entering his room, the shock of what he'd just done hit him full force. He stumbled over to the bed and fell onto the mattress, staring dazedly up at the ceiling.

Okay, you do realize that tonight you lured Alex Krycek into your hotel room and sucked his cock, don't you? And you paid him three thousand dollars for the privilege...

Mulder groaned at the remembered feel of Krycek's latex-sheathed cock in his mouth. He unzipped his pants and slipped his hand inside, stroking his pounding erection through the silk of his underwear.

Never would have dreamed that he'd make all those sexy little noises. God, I wonder what he'd do if I actually fucked him. Jesus. I wonder what I'd do if I actually fucked him...

Suddenly far too warm, Mulder stripped off every bit of clothing, pulled the blankets down and lay sprawled over his bed, caressing himself and imagining that it was Krycek's hands on him.

"Alex," he whispered almost inaudibly as his hands caressed his own heated skin, fingers working their way downward and brushing the stony length of his erection. "Gonna make you want me."

Too aroused to tease himself for long or even wonder why he was so hell bent on making Krycek want him, Mulder wrapped his cock in a firm grip and began to jerk it steadily as he pulled at one rigid nipple with his other hand. His mind worked frantically, seeing the two of them tangled together in the sheets, the sweat dripping from their bodies as he fucked Krycek hard and fast. A choked grunt fell from his parted lips as he imagined he heard the younger man's sobbed demands for satisfaction, and he rolled onto his side, ejaculating into the cotton sheets as he envisioned them coming together, screaming with the sheer force of their respective climaxes.

For some time he lay there, the intermittent shudders that rippled through his body lessening in their intensity and frequency. But the images remained strong and vivid...

The two of them lying together, him behind Alex, curled around the other man's relaxed body... kissing the back of his neck while running a soothing hand up and down his chest... a contented smile gracing the other's perfectly bowed lips...

Mulder sighed into his pillow, wishing with all his heart to make his fantasy a reality, and asking himself why the hell it was so.

Goddamn it, why?

He rolled off of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom, asking himself that very question over and over, and by the time he'd made it back to bed some fifteen minutes later, he had no more of an answer than he had before.

Pulling the blankets back over the stained sheets, he fell onto the mattress, slinging an arm over his face.

Fuck answers, Mulder. What have answers ever gotten you in the past besides more questions? Just go with it.

Yeah, but where the hell's it gonna lead me?

Back in hell.

Alex stepped out of the cab and looked around at what he'd been part of for the past several months, shuddering with disgust.

Oh, good. So because some guy brought you to his elegant hotel room, gave you expensive wine in fine crystal and paid you three grand to suck your dick, you're all of a sudden better than these twenty dollars whores out here? Get real.

Thing was, he did feel better. He felt... and he knew this was plain stupid, but he felt cleaner somehow. He felt that this man, whoever he was, thought he was more than just a night's entertainment. He was so... he treated him so gently. Every touch, every caress felt like a heaven created just for him...

He wound his way through the crowd, brushing off half a dozen overtures as he made his way back to his apartment.

No more tonight. He could well afford to take the rest of the night off, and besides, the thought of ruining what he'd just experienced by letting some sleazy mother fucker touch him was not one he cared to entertain.

He walked along slowly, reliving every minute of the time he spent at the Regent, in the company of a man he could pass by on the street tomorrow and not even know. His body tingled at each remembered touch. It vibrated, recalling the feel of the warm mouth around him, and trembled at the other's continued attentiveness even after he had come.

Jesus Christ, stop it. A rich freak, whose main kink happens to be pampering hookers targeted you. When his business, whatever his business is, is over he'll blow out of town, and you'll be nothing more to him than inspiration to get him up when his demanding bitch of a wife wants a little nookie.

But while he was here...

Alex entered his apartment and, stripping off his clothes slid right into bed. Nothing to eat or drink, no shower. He just wanted to wrap himself around the memory of the other man's smell and feel, and pretend if only for a little while he was as treasured as he'd been made to feel.

Part 2

"Scully."

"It's me."

"Hey, Mulder! How's California?"

"Sunny."

"Ha ha. Can I have a little more detail than that? Where've you been? What've you done?"

Red light district. Stumbled across triple agent turned street hustler Alex Krycek, blindfolded him, sucked his dick, paid him three thousand dollars for it...

"Uh... you know. The usual. Seeing the sights. Relaxing."

"Oh, yeah, that's so much better. Fine, Mulder, fine. Don't tell me about it. Just stay out of trouble, okay?"

"Now, what kind of trouble can I get into scoping out celebrities and sitting in mud baths?"

"If there's a way, Mulder, you'll find it."

Mulder smiled into the phone, noting the good natured sarcasm into his partner's tone. "How's everything there?"

"Under control."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Mulder, don't you dare think about coming back here earlier than planned..."

Not a chance in hell now.

"Mulder, you hear me?"

"Yeah, Scully."

"I'm serious."

"I know you are. I promise, I won't come back a second sooner than planned."

"Okay, well, I'll leave you to your sight seeing."

"All right. Talk to you soon, Scully. Thanks."

"No problem. 'Night, Mulder."

Mulder disconnected and dropped the phone onto the table by the bed. He peered into the fruit plate that lay on the bed between his legs, and plucked a large strawberry from it. Biting into the sweet, red morsel, his regard fell on the television and narrowed on his only companionship for the evening.

A muscular, dark-haired man tied face-down on a bed... his tanned body writhing as another slid an impossibly large vibrator in and out of his ass. The other man teased him, slowly rotating the latex shaft and softly demanding that he beg for more.

As he did, the other man withdrew the vibrator, hastily applied some lube, and straddled his back, brutally slamming into him. His cries rang out in Mulder's ears, further hardening his already stony erection, but he fought to keep from relieving it. Thoughts of tomorrow night and Alex Krycek naked in his arms fed his desire to remain on edge for just a bit longer.

Through half closed lids, he watched the man on the screen fuck the one beneath him... listened to the exaggerated wails of the other, his mind converting the frantic, high pitched sounds to deeper, gravely tones, and he could wait no more.

Whimpering softly, he grasped his cock, jerking desperately as the man in the movie pulled out of the other's ass and came all over his back, covering it in thick, opaque fluid.

"God," he gasped, feeling the coming explosion. "Alex... yeah, baby... so good... make me... come on, baby..."

His body began to buck uncontrollably, and he came over his closed fist and belly, still choking out the other man's name. When he recovered, he dragged himself into the bathroom, cleaned up and promptly fell into a deep sleep before the movie had finished.

As his evening had come to a close, across town his would-be lover's night was just beginning.

"Hey, how much?"

Bored green eyes looked away from the mountain that had just moved in front of the bench. "How much for what?"

"Half and half."

One leather clad shoulder rose and fell. "One-fifty."

"That's steep."

"That's my price."

The other man nodded. "Okay. You got it." Alex rose from the bench, quickly determining that the man had to be about six foot five, and a good three hundred pounds at least.

If this one decided to get funny, he'd have a definite problem. But, risk came with the territory. He gave the man his best 'don't fuck with me if you know what's good for you' look and slithered through the mass of bodies, following in the other's considerable wake.

As they arrived in the man's motel room, Alex received payment then looked around, checking for unwanted company. When none was found, he turned to his customer and removed his jacket.

"How do you want to do this?"

The man nodded to the bed. "Take everything off and make yourself comfortable."

Slowly, Alex removed his clothing, giving the customer a bit of a show for his money, then slid onto the bed, sprawling seductively over the pillows.

"Heard about you," the man rasped, licking his lips hungrily. "You're fucking gorgeous just like they said."

No response.

Smiling, the other removed his clothing, pulling two condoms from his pants pocket before the garment hit the floor. Rolling it over his stubby cock, he approached the bed.

"Can't wait to feel that pretty mouth on me..."

In a move that belied his size, he swiftly swung himself up onto the bed, his knees straddling Alex's shoulders.

"Go ahead, gorgeous. Take it."

Alex looked at the organ bobbing lewdly in front of his mouth then parted his lips, allowing the man to slip inside.

"Oh, yeah. Suck me good, sweetheart."

Alex cringed at the endearment but quickly pushed it to the back of his mind as he did his job. Within seconds, the other man was moaning with unchecked lust, and, leaning forward, grabbed onto the headboard and began to thrust roughly into Alex's mouth.

Virtually pinned to the bed, Alex could do little more than endure the consequences of the man's excitement, and just when he thought his ordeal might be ending, the organ was pulled out of his mouth. Quickly, the man peeled off the used condom and put the other on. In one lightning fast move, he flipped Alex onto his stomach and drove into him unprepared.

Alex bit into the pillow beneath his face to keep from voicing his pain, and just as he recovered enough from the shock to fight against the other's brutal possession, he found his wrists pinned to his sides and the full weight of the other's body upon him. Unable to get enough leverage to throw the man off of him, Alex lay gritting his teeth and suffered the assault in silence.

"Oh, shit... oh, yeah..." The man bit at Alex's neck and shoulder, hard enough to leave bruises but not break the skin as he thrashed against him. "Pretty, fuckin' bitch..." Using all of his substantial power, he strengthened his thrusts while continuing to rasp obscenities against Alex's shoulder.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself away from this rundown room and the repulsive hulk on top of him, and imagined fine wine, a beautiful room and the tender touch of a man he'd never seen.

Tomorrow. You'll be with him tomorrow, and...

And what? Get real. Did it ever occur to you that all that sweetness was just a lure? Something to hook you and reel you in... maybe tomorrow he'll turn into someone like this guy... or worse. That's reality, baby. Your reality.

The man slammed into Alex, sobbing and grunting with each cruel stroke, and when he finally, mercifully came, he collapsed in a heap on top of the hooker's back, nearly crushing him under his ample weight. Long minutes later, the man arose and, patting the still motionless man's rear, stumbled into the bathroom to clean up.

Alex lay face down in the pillows, hurting but too emotionally numb to care. In any other time and place he'd have been off the bed in an instant, and beating whoever had done that to him within an inch of their lives, but tonight he simply didn't have it in him. He lay quietly, controlling the tremors that passed through him until he heard the other man dress and leave. Then he began to whimper softly, letting the pain, if only for a few moments, get the better of him.

Minutes later, he sat up wincing then slowly got to his feet and pulled his clothes on. He left the motel and headed back to his apartment, opting to walk instead of taking a cab. Each step reminded him of exactly how sore he was going to be tomorrow, but he endured the growing discomfort, sure that it was just life's little way of reminding him of who and what he was.

Over an hour later, Alex entered his apartment and headed straight for the shower, turning the water on as hot as he could stand it. Practically tearing his clothes off, he stepped into the tub, gritting his teeth as he reached for the sponge and bath wash and scrubbed vigorously at his skin. Ten minutes later he brought his arms up to his nose and cursed as he reached for more bathwash.

Fuck. Go away. He scrubbed harder. God, please go away. I can't let him... if I can smell it, he'll be able to...

Here we go again. What the fuck does it matter? Big hint, stupid. He knows you're a whore. That's why he gave you that money. You think he gives a shit who else you've been with? Tomorrow he's gonna drop the fucking pretense, screw you into next week and throw you aside and not give a damn how much it hurt.

Dropping the sponge at his feet, Alex rinsed off and wrapped a towel around himself. He stepped out of the tub and stooped to pick up his clothes, noticing two small dark spots on the inside of his jeans. Further inspection revealed that the spots were dried blood.

The friction from the other man's unlubed cock and the force with which he'd driven into Alex had apparently wounded him to the point where he'd begun to bleed.

He stared blankly at the stained denim for a moment then carried the garment into the kitchen and dropped it into the trash. That done, he turned and wandered into the bedroom, slowly lowering himself to the bed. He lay there, still damp, towel half falling from his hips and stared sightlessly at the window. What seemed like only minutes later, he was opening his eyes, blinking in the light of day.

Wondering when the hell he fell asleep, Alex maneuvered himself under the light blanket and pulled it up to his head, attempting to shut the glare out, but it radiated through the blanket, burning his eyes. He groaned softly and pulled a pillow over his face, bringing blessed darkness to his world.

Darkness.

Night.

A few hours away.

His heart began to pound, and his palms broke into a sweat, and he cursed himself for it. He'd told himself again that it was just another job. Just another horny john with money to burn, but somewhere inside... somewhere in his deepest heart he wanted so much for it to be more than that. And in that self-loathing part of him he knew it could never be... that he didn't deserve any more...

"Wine... strawberries..."

Mulder looked around, knowing something else was missing.

"Oh, yeah."

Lowering the lights, he turned the pre-loaded CD player on then stood in the middle of the room with his eyes closed.

"Yeah, that's nice. Now," he whispered to himself, looking at his watch, "just breathe easy. He should be here soon."

The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound in the small apartment. Not even a breath could be heard as Alex sat motionless on his sofa, hands folded in front of him. Slowly, his eyes rose to his grandmother's mantle clock on top of the television. Realizing that it was time to go, he made himself stand, grimacing at the moderate amount of pain he felt. His body had stiffened during the night and made the discomfort worse than it had been yesterday, but he pushed the pain as far away as he could and left the apartment. A quick cab ride later, he was standing outside of the Beverly Regent.

"Sir? Sir..."

Alex blinked and turned in the direction of the doorman. "Yeah?"

"Are you all right, sir?" The older man with kindly blue eyes asked. "You look rather dazed."

"No. N-no. I'm okay. Thanks." He fell silent and looked up at the lit building.

"Are you a guest here?"

Alex hesitated then shook his head. "Visiting a guest."

"Do you know the room number? If not, if you'll give me the name I can find it for you."

"No, I... I know the room number. Just needed a little air first."

The man nodded and smiled, backing off a few steps. Alex thanked him again for his kindness then moved into the building. Slowly, he walked to the elevators and boarded the middle car, and in seconds was coming to a stop on the twelfth floor. The doors opened, and he stepped out, moving with false confidence to twelve-fourteen.

As it had been on Sunday, the door was unlocked, and he turned the knob, pushing it open.

Soft music greeted him, and another beautifully set table lay ahead. On suddenly shaky legs, he forced himself to move through the dimly lit room, and he stopped in front of the table. There, leaning against an empty crystal goblet was a white envelope, and next to that, the familiar black silk scarf.

Moistening his lips, Alex lifted the envelope and tore it open. He removed the entire three thousand dollars and a brief note.

I look forward to this evening. I hope you do too. All of your money is here. I trust you to remain with me for two hours. I think you want to.

Alex closed his eyes, stuffed the money and note into his jacket pocket, then reached down and picked up the blindfold. He secured it over his eyes and moments later he felt the gentle caress of a hand at the back of his neck. He began immediately and uncontrollably tremble, and the other man wound an arm around his chest, holding him against his warmth.

Mulder wanted so badly to tell the younger man not to be afraid, but he remained silent, hoping that he could somehow communicate without the use of words.

Carefully, he slipped the leather jacket off then turned Krycek around to face him. A shocked gasp tumbled from his lips when the very visible bruises around the right corner of Alex's mouth came in view. He lifted his hand, lightly tracing the marks with shaking fingers.

Alex pulled away quickly, startled by the other man's reaction. As rapidly as he could, he pulled himself together and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Occupational hazard."

Mulder fought to control the searing rage that shot through him at the thought of some sleazy son of a bitch hurting this man. He'd torment himself with the whys later. Right now all he wanted to do was try and make it better somehow... and kill the fucker who did it.

Alex flinched then stood quietly shivering as the man's fingertips again brushed over the bruises in a featherlight caress. Then all at once the touch had disappeared, leaving him mourning its absence. But seconds later, he felt a hand close around his wrist, holding it in a gentle grip. Carefully, he was led to the same seat in which he'd sat two night before, and he felt the other man hovering nearby.

A soft moan escaped his throat as the other petted his hair and brought a sweet smelling object to his mouth. He recognized the texture and scent as that of a strawberry. Hesitantly, he bit into the fruit, chewing and swallowing before a chilled glass brushed against his lower lip. He took a small sip then swiped the residual moisture away from his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

"Good," Alex rasped, feeling the need to say something. "Thanks."

Mulder touched the strawberry again to his lips, gaze unable to stay away from the purple blotches... wanting so much to look into the wounded man's eyes and truly see the extent of his injury. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, he fed at least three strawberries and half a glass of wine to Alex before drawing him up out of his chair and leading him a few feet away. Slowly, Mulder drew the blindfolded man into his arms and began to sway in time to the music.

An almost inaudible whimper sounded in Alex's throat as the other man coaxed the sable head down onto his shoulder and began caressing his back.

God.

Oh, Jesus.

What the hell was going on here? Why was he still the man he'd been two days ago? He should have turned into an asshole by now. Alex should have been stripped and laid out face down on the bed by now, taking stroke after punishing stroke... cuffed and beaten maybe...

But instead there was this. And he didn't know what to do with it. He didn't know how to...

A harsh sob drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized that the other man had since found the wounds at the side of his neck. Quickly, the other put a few inches distance between them and undid his shirt, pushing it away from his shoulders and down his arms. The garment fell to the floor, and the man inspected the rest of his upper body, trembling with fury as he found the rest of the bruises.

Wanting to string the cocksucker up by his balls but knowing that he was powerless to do so, Mulder pulled the younger man into his arms, holding him in a tender embrace and scattering soft kisses over his wounds.

"N-no..." Alex breathed so softly, even the man wrapped around him could not hear.

The kisses became more seductive, lingering over patches of skin, teasing the sensitive spot on the back of Alex's neck, and moving slowly up toward his mouth.

He wanted it. God, all of a sudden he wanted that mouth. Wanted it on his, kissing him forever, taking at once his breath and his pain. He froze, waiting for that first tender touch, but as the other's lips cautiously brushed his, he began a half-hearted struggle to put a little distance between them.

"No," he said as firmly as his broken voice would allow. "I told... told you. No kissing."

Mulder didn't need to see the younger man's eyes to know that he didn't mean what he was saying. He could feel it in the tension in Alex's body... he could see it in the hungry quiver of his lips.

Alex sucked in a soft breath as a warm hand stroked his cheek then moved to the back of his head, gently tilting it back. His lips parted on an anguished sob as the other's mouth and tongue traveled the length of his exposed throat, and he was pulled more tightly against the hardening body.

Quite suddenly, he didn't care about any fucking self imposed rules, and he didn't give a shit if tomorrow it all turned out to be a lie. He needed that mouth. Needed it desperately if only for tonight, and he'd beg if he had to, to have it.

Alex lifted his head, winding his fingers in the silky softness of the other's hair and pulled him in for a hard kiss. The force of it hurt his injured mouth, and he grunted softly at the pain, but he refused to let go. He clung to the man, protesting frantically as he was firmly pulled away, but his whines soon faded as he felt the tender brush of full, sweet lips against his own.

Mulder wrapped Alex in a comforting embrace and took his mouth as gently as he could, loving how the flavors of the strawberries and wine combined with his own natural sweetness to provide a taste that he knew he could never, ever forget. His tongue inched out, dancing over the bowed lips and coaxing them open to immediately find its willing mate.

The two men stood wrapped around each other, tongues stroking and lapping... learning taste and texture, and when Mulder slowly backed Alex to the bed, the younger man went willingly, sinking down onto the softness of the mattress. He reached up, hands searching for his temporary lover, needing to feel the comforting weight of his body. His hands were caught in the other's, kissed gently, then guided to the buttons of the silk shirt, and he knew what he was being asked to do.

Violently trembling fingers undid the fastenings on Mulder's shirt, and the older man slipped out of the garment and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. He lowered himself onto the other man, blanketing him in soothing heat and again finding his mouth.

Somewhere in the thick haze of need a voice sounded. Distant and weak, it told Alex to stop. Screamed for him not to roll over... not to give this man any more than he'd paid for, but his body and the heart that he'd thought had long been withered and gone disagreed.

Give it to him. Let him take whatever he wants. Just for one night... know what it's like to feel safe and wanted. Feel what it's like to belong to someone...

Even if it's a fucking lie?

"No..." Alex whimpered softly, shaking his head. "Don't care..."

Mulder drew back and looked down in confusion, trying to make sense of the tormented declaration. The younger man's hands reaching up and rubbing feverishly over his skin shook the curiosity from his immediate thoughts, and he brought a hand up to the smooth cheek, softly shushing and calming him.

Stopping his frantic movements, Alex listened to the soft rush of breath... lulled by the simple sound. His hands began to move again, this time in wide, lazy circles on the warm, satiny skin, and he turned his head to the side, letting his mouth brush the other man's forearm.

"Please," he whispered as calmly as he could, "I... would you kiss me again?"

Mulder's lips slanted into a melancholy smile, wondering when the last time was that this man had experienced any kind of tenderness, if ever. Thinking about it, he didn't know when the last time was that he'd been on the receiving end of any.

Alex sucked in an anxious breath, waiting for the presence he felt to come nearer. As the other's mouth whispered over his, he exhaled, parting his lips, inviting him inside.

Mulder accepted the invitation, letting his tongue sweep over the warm, moist interior of Krycek's mouth while his hands roamed over the expanse of the younger man's chest, gently kneading the taut muscles and teasing the already hard nipples into even tighter buds. The prostitute writhed beneath him, lifting one long leg and hooking it over his hip, and a soft groan broke from each of them.

Cautiously, Mulder pushed down, pressing their covered erections together, and Krycek let a hand slide down to his rear, cupping the rounded muscle and squeezing.

"Fuck me," Alex moaned, grinding his crotch against the other man's. "I need you to."

And he did need it. God, he needed it so much, he was sure he'd break into pieces if he didn't.

Or maybe it was that he needed to be broken... to fulfill the promise that this man's three thousand dollars bought and then be tossed away so he could stop having the ridiculous thoughts he was having...

Mulder quivered at the younger man's plea, choosing to believe that he actually was as desperate to have him as he sounded, and not putting on a cash induced act.

Pulling away from Alex's mouth, he straddled the denim-clad hips and began unfastening his own pants and sliding them down his thighs. As he worked, Alex's hands found the exposed silk of his underwear and tentatively brushed over the impressive bulge inside.

If Mulder hadn't already been on his knees, he would have collapsed and dropped to them.

Alex Krycek. Here. In his hotel room, half naked and lying beneath him... touching his cock...

All right, so as far as Krycek knew, he was simply catering to a faceless stranger with money to burn, but still...

Reluctantly, Mulder shifted, removing the remainder of his clothing. When he was completely stripped of his garments, he turned his attention to the man left squirming on the bed. Gently, he pulled off Alex's boots and socks, then his jeans, revealing the fact that the younger man wore no underwear tonight.

Alex twitched as the other man reverently touched his cock and bent to flick his tongue over one rigid nipple. "Please," he begged, combing his fingers through the other's hair. "God, please..."

Kissing the younger man into silence, Mulder opened the drawer of the nightstand and withdrew a condom and a tube of lubricant. He broke the kiss and ripped the package open with his teeth, then removed the rubber and carefully rolled it on over his aching erection.

God, he whimpered to himself, you're going to do this. You're actually going to fuck this man...

Mulder squeezed some lube into his hand and applied it to his latex sheathed cock then grasped the younger man's hips and pulled him forward.

Anxiously, Alex helped the man, spreading his legs and wrapping them around his waist, and he waited for that first...

Hissing sharply, his entire body tightened at the shock of pain that tore through him. He felt the other man stiffen immediately and cease all movement.

No. No, don't...

"Don't stop," he grated through clenched teeth. "I'm all right. Please, don't stop."

He wasn't all right. Mulder could see that in the sudden lines that etched his face.

"Fuck me. Please don't stop." Krycek reached up, running his hands over the man's face and hair. Fuck me..."

Alex's intense desperation unnerved Mulder, and to pacify the younger man, he pushed forward only to again be brought to a dead stop by a muffled sob.

No. Oh, no. Something's definitely wrong...

Mulder withdrew, ignoring Alex's mingled curses and pleas. Looking down, all the air left his lungs.

Blood, streaking the condom he wore and leaving small spots on the sheet.

Alex knew. He didn't need to see. He could feel the tiny trickle of blood running down one cheek, and he knew why the other man had stopped and was so obviously upset.

Upset?

"No," he gasped. "It's... it's all right. It's no biggie. Please, don't stop, I..." He could feel the adamant shake of the other man's head, and panic overtook him.

"You don't have to worry about it. You don't... you don't have to care. You're not supposed to care." He fought against the hands that sought to hold him still. "I'm a whore! That's all. Just a fucking whore!" He was screaming but he couldn't stop. "I'm bought and paid for, and you're not supposed to care! You're supposed to fuck me and not give a shit if I'm hurt... hurt me. Please. Fuck me raw and then send me back to where I came from..."

"I won't."

Alex's diatribe came to an abrupt halt, and he broke free of the loosened grip, pulling himself up into a sitting position... listening to the soft, emotional rasp.

"I will not hurt you."

Alex reached up, ripping the blindfold from his eyes and stared in mute shock at the last man in the world he ever expected to see.

"What the hell..."

Mulder looked into wild, green eyes and knew that they were in for a rough time.

"Krycek..."

"What are you..." Alex gasped, on the verge of hyperventilating. "..what the hell are you doing? Why... why are you here?"

"We can talk about that later. You're hurt..."

Alex slapped away the hand that had reached toward his cheek and pulled the sheet up around his waist. "Why are you here?" he demanded, voice roughened by anger and shame.

Mulder shook his head, opening and closing his mouth before any sound would come out.

"I... was just... I'm on vacation. I s... I saw you one night... downtown."

The crease between the younger man's eyebrows deepened. "And what? You figured it'd be fun to fuck around with me a little?"

"No. No, I didn't... I just wanted to..."

"Humiliate me?" Alex cut in, bolting from the bed and finding his jacket. He pulled the envelope from the pocket and withdrew the money, flinging it at the man on the bed. "Buy me? Did you figure that if you threw enough money my way you'd own me? Is this some sort of twisted revenge?"

"No," Mulder insisted, discarding the condom and following Alex to the other side of the room. "It's nothing like that."

"Then what the fuck is it like?" A mortified emerald gaze burned into disturbed hazel.

"I just... I saw you out there... going off with all those different men, and I knew that something must have gone really wrong for you to be..." Mulder stopped speaking, moistening dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

"Whoring? You can say it, Mulder. Go ahead. It's what I am. I fuck men for money." Alex shrugged. "Go ahead. Say it. You've called me worse things in the past." He glared at the mute man. "So... you knew something was wrong. And what? You figured you'd take pity on me? Throw a shitload of money at me... take me off the streets for a few days... show me the good life? What?"

"I just..." Mulder struggled for the words. "This... it isn't you, Krycek."

"How the fuck do you know what is and isn't me? You don't know shit about me." Alex whirled around, attempting to mask his discomfort at the suddenness of the move and began gathering up his clothes.

"I didn't," Mulder admitted, watching the younger man and reading his expression. "I think I do now."

Alex released a harsh bark of laughter. "Do you? I'll take that as a compliment to my fine acting skills. It's my job, you know? Reading the customer and giving them what they want. I admit it was a little harder being blindfolded, but I apparently pulled it off, 'cause I sure suckered you in. Damn, I'm good."

Mulder watched as the agitated man pulled on his clothes. "So, why are you so angry? If you're so satisfied with yourself, why all the indignation?"

"Are you kidding? You lure me up here to your hotel room, blindfold me and then fuck with my head, and you want to know why?"

"But you just finished telling me in different words that you'd done the very same thing you're accusing me of. According to you, all that need and vulnerability I saw was you fucking with my head."

Alex jerked on his shirt then, without bothering to button it, snatched up his jacket and stalked over to the older man and hissed in his face.

"Yeah, but there's one big difference, asshole. You knew who you were doing it to."

As he walked away, Mulder's voice followed him. "I'm sorry you're so upset about this. But really, Alex, if you'd known it was me, would you have come here on Sunday? Would you have come tonight?" Mulder drifted closer. "Would you have let me undress you and lay you down in my bed?"

Alex stamped down a shiver and lifted his head, holding it at a defiant tilt. "For fifteen hundred an hour? Fuck yeah."

Mulder stooped and picked some of the scattered bills up off of the floor. "Then take this. If money's all you're after, here. It's yours."

"I don't want it."

"You took it on Sunday."

"That's when I thought I was actually providing a service."

"Krycek, just take the money."

"Take your fucking charity and shove it up your ass."

"I don't get it," Mulder said softly. "You're too proud to let me give you money you obviously need, but you're not too proud to sell your body to get it."

"Fuck you."

Mulder lifted a hand to the younger man's quivering jaw. "You want me. You need what I can give you. You can deny it from now until Christmas and you still won't convince me that it isn't so."

Slowly, Mulder leaned forward, drawing ever closer until his lips brushed those before him. "Alex," he whispered, hypnotizing the younger man with the soft hum of his voice, "whatever's wrong... whatever's got you out here doing this... let me help you. Let me take care of you."

The words filtered through Alex's clouded brain, and he backed away, fixing an incredulous stare on the older man.

Before Mulder could take his next breath, a hard cross to his jaw knocked him back onto the bed. He lay there dazed, his face throbbing from the blow he'd just received and tried to focus on the blurred face above him.

Alex stared down at the older man, shocked at what he'd just done.

He and Fox Mulder had had many run ins in the past, and Mulder had injured him plenty, but Alex had never hurt him...

Clasping his hands tightly together, Alex backed up to the door and, throwing it open, fled the room.

"Alex," Mulder called, wincing at the pain in his jaw. "Alex." He pulled himself off the bed and dressed as quickly as he could, then ran out in search of the distraught man. He took the first available elevator down to the lobby and bolted out to the street, looking up and down.

"Shit."

"Don't think you're going to catch him, but he went that way."

Mulder whirled around to face the pointing doorman.

Reading the young man's puzzled expression, the doorman gave him an understanding smile. "You're looking for the man who just ran out of here, aren't you? Dark, good looking... leather jacket..."

Mulder sucked the corner of his lower lip into his mouth and nodded.

"He went that way." The man again pointed in the direction in which Alex had gone. "Looked pretty upset. I offered to get him a cab, but I don't even know if he really heard me."

Mulder closed his eyes and turned away.

I had a huge fight with a boyfriend years and years ago..."

Mulder turned back and focused a surprised gaze on the doorman.

"...I'm talking, knock down drag out."

"What happened?" The younger man asked softly.

The doorman broke into a grin. "We'll be celebrating our eighteenth year together next week.

Mulder gave the man a sad smile. "Congratulations."

"Thanks. You know, he wouldn't be so upset if he didn't care. And neither would you."

"I admit that I care," Mulder explained to the man, not knowing why he would do so. "I tried to make him understand that."

"And he bolted?"

Mulder nodded his head.

"Try harder, the older man urged. "He wants you to. He needs you to."

"He hit me."

The other man smiled. "Yeah, it sure looks like it. Just means he's scared for some reason. He doesn't need to be, does he?"

Mulder silently shook his head.

"Then go on. Go get him."

Mulder thought on the advice for little more than two seconds.

"Could you call the valet for my car? Room twelve-fourteen."

Smiling, the man rang the valet, and when the car was driven around to the front, Mulder turned and shook the doorman's hand.

"Thanks."

"None necessary." The man winked. "Just drink a toast to me on your eighteenth anniversary."

A silly if slightly embarrassed grin spread across the younger man's face as he considered the thought, then he ducked into the car and set out to find Alex.

God, stop. Or slow down, at least.

The extreme discomfort finally registering in Alex's head, he slowed from a sprint to more of a pained limp as he headed back into his part of town. He lumbered along, trying to get the smell and the taste of Fox Mulder out of his mind while simultaneously trying to erase the sound of his voice, so low and full of promise as he informed Alex of his wish to take care of him.

It's insane, he reasoned with himself. He's lying. He's got to be. How could he hate me to the point of violence and then have such a sudden turnaround?

Ever hear of that fine line between...

Don't even say it. There's no fucking way in hell he could ever... it's impossible. Maybe on some distant level he's got some warped kind of respect for me, and he thinks that hooking is way beneath me. That's why he was giving me so much money. To try and help me quit.

Then why not just leave the money anonymously? Why the big seduction scene?

I don't know, I... hell, what's not to know? He found out that I fuck men, and he wanted a piece of me just like everybody else.

But everybody else never went to the trouble of making it good for you...

Hands clenched in his hair, Alex tried to ward off the massive headache he felt starting.

That's right. He didn't even fuck you the first time, and who knows if we would have this time if you hadn't asked him to. Shit, you begged him to.

I didn't know it was him, I...

"Hey."

Alex took his hands away from his head and blinked to try and clear his vision. He squinted at the man standing in front of him and scowled.

"What d'you want?"

"Some company. How much?"

Alex was about to tell the man to fuck off when the slam of a car door drew his attention. His knees just about buckled as he caught sight of Mulder moving toward him. Gathering as much of his courage as he could find, he drew himself up and faced the only man who had ever managed to unnerve him.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"We weren't finished," Mulder said softly, gilded gaze burning into the younger man's.

"The fuck we weren't."

"Uh, hey..." the third man stepped forward, trying to wedge himself between the other two. "Remember me? We were in the middle of a deal, here."

Before Alex could answer, Mulder cut in.

"There'll be no deals. Get lost."

The other man stepped forward, nudging Mulder with his chest. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm the guy who's going to hand you your spleen if you don't get the hell out of my face." Mulder turned his attention back to the other. "Alex..."

"We're done, Mulder," Alex snapped, eyes flicking away from the damage he'd done to Mulder's face, and attempted to walk away, but a hand around his forearm stopped him.

"We're not."

"God damn, you're a stubborn fucker!" Alex screamed, wrenching his arm away from the older man's grasp. "Do yourself a favor, okay? Take your ass back to D.C. and forget you saw me here!"

"No!"

As Mulder moved to follow Alex, the other man stepped into his path.

"Hey. He said go away. Now, what part of that didn't you understand?"

Mulder stopped, staring blankly into the other man's eyes. "Get the fuck out of my way."

"Or what?"

Before Mulder could respond, Alex came back, moving to the man's side and rubbing a hand over his chest as he looked pointedly at Mulder.

"Forget about him," he murmured, nuzzling the other man's jaw. "C'mon. Let's go have a little fun."

A lewd chuckle sounded deep in the other man's throat. "Now you're talking."

"Alex, don't do this," Mulder pleaded. "You can't."

"I can't? Why not?"

"You're hurt. Please don't go and make yourself worse just to spite me."

"Don't think so much of yourself, Mulder," Alex hissed. "I'm gonna let this guy fuck me because I like it. You got me? I like getting fucked. And I like the money."

"Alex, please don't. If you won't let me take care of you, then go home and take care of yourself. I'll give you three times what you'd get from him if you'd just go home."

Alex trembled at the tinge of sincerity in Mulder's voice. Goddamn it, why was he doing this?

"Aww, that's sweet," the other man broke in, looking Alex up and down. "But he looks fine to me. Damn fine." Leaning to the side, he drew his tongue up Alex's stubbled cheek. And before he could finish, he was being snatched away from the prostitute's side.

A loud crack sounded as Mulder's fist connected with the man's face, and he fell backward into a parked car. Alex watched in stunned fascination as the man stumbled away from the vehicle and stopped dead as the muzzle of a gun met the patch of skin between his eyebrows.

"Get the hell out of here," Mulder demanded, his tone low and deadly serious, "or I'll blow your head off."

"Christ," the man gasped. "Yeah, he's pretty, but he's just a whore. No need to get violent over 'im."

"Shut the fuck up," Mulder growled. "Shut up and get out of here."

The man slunk away, and Mulder turned to the other who stood quietly watching him.

"Please, go home."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I'm not telling you. I'm asking you. Please."

Alex fixed a confused, green stare on the older man. "You've always hated me."

Mulder stared back, unblinking. "Yeah."

"So, why? What is this?"

Mulder shrugged. "I don't hate you any more."

"Even after I slugged you?"

"I had that coming. God knows I've let you have it often enough over the years."

"That isn't why I hit you."

"I know."

"So, if you don't hate me, what the hell is going on in that warped brain?"

I can't..." he took a deep breath and struggled for the words he wanted to say. "I can't really explain to you what I feel now. I just know it isn't hate."

"Pity's no better."

"No. No, I... maybe it was pity at first, I don't know. But I..." He moved closer, head held at a slightly downward angle and touched his fingers to the sleeve of Alex's jacket. "Can we talk? Please?"

The younger man's eyes closed and he stifled a sigh then shook his head. "No. There's nothing to talk about."

"I think there is. You're clear across the U.S., Alex, selling yourself to scum. Men throw a few dollars at you... some of them hurt you, and then you go on to the next one. This isn't you. I know it isn't."

"Are we back on that again? Listen, Mulder. You don't know who I am. This is nothing new," he said, disgust very evident in his tone. How do you think I survived the first couple of years in the Consortium? You think the old men didn't get a piece of my ass?"

Mulder shuddered.

"That's right," Alex goaded the older man. "While I wasn't training to be the best liar/cheater/thief/murderer their group had ever had, I sucked their wrinkled dicks whenever and wherever they told me to. I was on call twenty four-seven, and they called me often." He smiled bitterly. "What can I say, I guess I'm just irresistible. Even your boss couldn't keep his hands to himself."

The breath left Mulder's lungs in a rush. "What?"

"Nevermind. It isn't important."

An almost frightening gleam coated Mulder's eyes. "What did Skinner do to you?"

"Nothing you didn't give him cart blanche to do when you left me at his apartment."

Mulder's mouth opened then snapped shut. "I'm... I don't... I had no idea."

"I know you didn't," Alex answered softly and evenly. "You just figured he'd beat the shit out of me, right?"

Hazel eyes lowered to the ground.

"Go away, Mulder," Alex whispered. "Go home or finish your vacation or whatever. I don't know where this obviously misguided sense of responsibility is coming from, or this idea that you suddenly want to stop hating me and start fucking me, but forget it. Forget me."

Mulder wanted so much to tell him that it wasn't just about fucking, but then he'd be back to having to explain himself, and he honestly didn't know if he could.

Noticing the way the younger man winced when he shifted from one foot to the other, Mulder spoke, concern seeping into his tone.

"Will you go home and rest? I can see that you're in pain."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. You're bleeding for God's sake."

Alex spun away, roaring up at the sky.

"Fuck your concern Mulder! I don't need it!"

"Yeah, you do. And if you'd stop being such a stubborn ass for minute, you'd admit that you want it."

Alex snorted. "So, tell me, what exactly is it that you want to do? You want to sweep me off my feet? Whisk me away to your suite and make my boo boos all better? Sweet. Okay, what about after your vacation is over? You wanna take me back to D.C. with you... keep me for a pet?"

"You're being a real shithead, you know that Krycek?"

"Why? Because I want to know how honorable your intentions are?" Krycek made a show of fluttering his ridiculously long eyelashes at the other man.

Mulder sighed softly. "I just want to help you out of this situation you're in. Spend some time with you... talk... see what happens."

Alex laughed bitterly. "Gimme a fuckin' break. You're out of your depth, Mulder. Go find another soul to save."

As Alex turned to leave, a hand on his arm stopped him.

"I don't see you as a project, Alex. I don't want to fix you then move on. I... I don't know exactly what I'm saying, I just know that if I walk away from you, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

Alex stared at the other man, shaking his head. "Nothing is going to come of what happened or almost happened between us. You go back to your hotel room and review the last several years. You think of everything I've done to you, and in no time you'll be asking yourself what the fuck you were thinking even getting near me."

"You think I haven't thought about that?" Mulder asked. "You think I haven't taken stock of each and every low, disgusting thing you've ever done to me? You bet your ass I have." He threw his hands in the air and let them drop to his sides. "And, Jesus Christ, I still want to..." Eyes dropping shut, he pressed his lips together and shook his head.

"You really are insane. You know what, Mulder? It's not me who has to be helped. It's you. Do yourself a big favor and find yourself a shrink. This city is crawling with them. Now... I'm going back to my life. Go back to yours and leave me the fuck alone."

"I can't..."

Alex pitched forward, shoving the older man with all his strength.

"Leave me alone!"

Before Mulder could respond Alex took off at a full sprint, leaving him staring helplessly until the younger man disappeared from his sight. He stood quietly for a while, unsure of what to do, then turned and slowly walked back to his rental car.

The air reeked of sweat and mold, and vibrated with the labored grunts of a nameless stranger who, with both hands clutching the headboard of a rickety bed for support, slammed again and again into the silent man beneath him.

Alex lay face down in the pillow, forcing his thoughts away from the tender fantasy he'd been immersed in just hours before, and making his body feel the pain of reality.

No soft, romantic music.

Only the screech of tires and shouting grated his raw nerves.

No gentle lover holding him close and soothing him with sweet caresses, unselfishly tending to his needs.

Only an uncaring stranger, pushing him beyond the edges of agony.

He deserved it. His previously lived life demanded it, yet for all that he'd done, especially to the man, who now for some insane reason wanted Alex in his life, it didn't seem punishment enough.

The driving pain ceased, leaving behind a steady ache, and Alex realized that the man had finished. He disengaged with a heavy grunt and fell to the mattress beside the motionless hooker, gasping for breath. When he regained enough strength to move, he rolled off the bed, and headed to the bathroom.

"Man I gotta take a piss."

Minutes later, Alex heard the distant flush of the toilet, and the bathroom door open. As the man struggled with his clothing, he looked over at the other, who still lay in the same position he'd left him in.

"You ain't dead, are ya?"

The man leaned over, placing a clammy hand on the prone man's thigh, and Alex flinched away from the touch, hissing softly.

"Guess not. 'Kay, well, I'm outta here. See you around."

A band of yellow light fell across the body on the bed then disappeared as another satisfied customer took his leave.

Slowly, Alex pulled himself off of the bed, jaw working convulsively over clenched teeth as he made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned up as best he could, ignoring the fact that he was bleeding again, got dressed, and exited the hotel room. Minutes later, he was back at his usual spot, leaning against the bench, head down, eyes closed.

It wasn't long at all before another prospective customer approached, and eyes, dark with more than one kind of hurt looked up at the sound of the voice.

"You look like you could use a pick me up."

Alex recognized the man as one that every hooker in boy's town knew and avoided like the plague. Word was, this guy liked to play rough... too rough, and there were rumors floating around...

"How 'bout it? Wanna let ol' Billy see what he can do to make you feel better?"

Good sense overcome by searing pain, Alex shrugged and pushed away from the bench, following the man through the crowd and down the street.

Mulder shifted restlessly in his bed, jaw throbbing from the blow Krycek had landed, and a dull, unexplainable ache in his chest. A voice in the back of his head kept telling him that he should have tried harder. He should have persisted until he had made Krycek listen and understand. But how could he do that if he didn't fully understand himself?

But he's hurt. You shouldn't have left him there like that. You can't be sure that he would go home. In fact, you can be pretty damn sure he wouldn't go just to spite you.

Mulder's heart pounded in his chest at the thought of Alex lying in a filthy, run down motel room while some stranger who didn't give a damn about him compounded his injuries, threw some money at him and then walked away.

Stop. Stop thinking about it. How much clearer could he have made it? He doesn't want your help. He doesn't want you anywhere near him. You tried. You failed. Get over it. Why's it such a big fucking deal, anyway?

He asked himself that question again and again, growling as he hurled himself out of bed, threw on some clothes and stormed out of the room.

Alex walked up two flights of stairs, keeping at least five steps behind the man in front. As they reached the third floor of the silent warehouse, he looked around the large room and took note of the four other men lounging on crates and wide window sills.

"Look what I got," the new arrival announced to his friends as he snatched a full bottle of whiskey from the closest man.

The dark haired man in the window grinned and stepped forward. "Mmm, mmm." He reached out, stroking Alex's jaw. "I seen you around. Wanted to party with you once, and you told me to fuck off." He looked to his friend. "How'd you get 'im here, Billy?"

Billy shrugged. "I asked, he came."

"Huh." The other man turned his attention back to Alex. "What's he got that I ain't got?"

Dull eyes stared for a moment then again scanned the room.

"Hey," the dark man called, snapping his fingers in Alex's face. "What'sa matter with you?"

"Aww, Mickey, he's just havin' a bad day," Billy answered. "You ever just have a bad day?" Not waiting for an answer, he turned to Alex. "But I promised we'd get you all fixed up, right? Here." He held the bottle out to Alex and waited. "Go on, it'll make you feel better."

Alex inhaled and exhaled slowly, then took the bottle. Closing his eyes, he took a good, long swallow then let Billy take the bottle back.

"This'll warm you up in no time," the other man said with a wink then took a swig of the amber fluid. He looked around at the other three men and motioned to them. "Come on, guys, where are your manners? Make our new friend feel at home."

The others came over and led Alex to an area surrounded by crates and sat him down on one of the blankets they had scattered over the floor. One of the men offered him another bottle, and he took it this time without hesitation.

A pleasurable burning sensation followed the liquid as it trailed down Alex's throat, pooling in his stomach and igniting a small fire there. While it did much to warm and then numb his body, there was an iciness... an ache deep inside... someplace that the booze couldn't seem to reach, and he thought that maybe if he drank enough...

While the others kept the hooker occupied, Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out a small package of white pills. Grinning at the Mickey, he dropped two tablets into the bottle, and the two men walked over to the group on the floor.

As soon as Alex passed the bottle he'd been drinking from, Billy handed him the other. Alex took a drink then held it out to the other man, but Billy held up a hand.

"Nah. That one's yours. These clowns can share the other one." He found an unoccupied spot on the floor next to Alex and sat down. "So... how much?"

Alex blinked up at the other man, only now realizing he hadn't even negotiated for a price before leaving with him.

"Uh... wh... what d'you want?"

"Well... I doubt these guys are gonna be real happy just watching you and me go at it, so..."

Alex closed his eyes and drained a quarter of the remainder of the bottle before answering.

"All of you?"

"You mind?"

Why the fuck should he?

Slight shrug. "Whatever."

"Cool. So, how much?"

Three more long swallows. "A grand."

He was on his way to being drunk, but he wasn't completely stupid yet.

No? Mulder gave you three grand.

Mulder.

Alex gritted his teeth and again raised the bottle to his lips.

"Kinda steep. No group rate?"

"That... that is the group rate."

While Alex continued to drink, the money was collected and placed in a pile in front of him. He stopped and started at least three times before he was finally able to count out the whole thousand, and, stuffing the cash into the inside pocket of his jacket, he finished off the contents of the bottle.

"There ya go," Billy cooed. "Bet you're feelin' better already, ain'tcha?"

Alex squinted at the other man, watching his image blur. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, mumbling something unintelligible, and Billy moved closer.

"What's that you say sweet thing? You wanna get the party started?"

Alex lifted his head and again attempted to focus on the man in front of him as a pair of hands grasped his jacket and began to pull it off. He began to voice a muttered protest as the same hands... or maybe it was another pair, started pulling at the fastenings of his shirt and jeans. Then there were more hands... everywhere, rubbing and grabbing, and he lurched this way and that, trying to move away from them.

"Mmm... wait... no, I don't... don't feel right..."

"Don't worry about it, babe," Billy answered, stroking the tips of two fingers down Alex's now bared chest and twisting a nipple. "You ain't seen nothin' yet. Taz, Wes, hold 'im."

Alex was in no shape to fight off the two men who grabbed and jerked him to his knees. He hung limply between the two, the room spinning at an increasingly dizzying pace while Billy and the remaining two men rose to their feet and began to undo their pants.

Mulder drove slowly down the street, quickly scanning the crowd. Not seeing the one he was looking for, he continued on to Alex's apartment building and parked outside. Noting that all the lights were out in the corner apartment, he stepped out of the car and crossed the street. He entered the building, still asking himself why he was doing this to himself, and climbed the stairs up to the second floor.

Moving to the end of the hall, he took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock at the door.

And then what?

There was no way in hell Alex would let him in.

Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he removed a pair of slender metal picks and went to work.

Seconds later, the lock gave, and Mulder quietly let himself into the apartment. All was silent as he moved stealthily from one room to the next, and it wasn't long before he realized that Alex wasn't there.

He had to be in that crowd somewhere... or out with a customer.

"Son of a bitch."

Fox whirled around and stalked out of the apartment. Leaving his car where it was parked, he jogged down the street, searching for Alex as he moved through the mob. "Shit," he muttered softly. "Come on, come on. Where the hell are you?"

"Lookin' for him again?"

Mulder spun around and came face to face with the same hooker he'd spoken with a few days before.

"Yeah. Have you seen him?"

"'Bout half an hour ago. Looked like shit. I never saw him look like that."

"Did he leave with anybody?"

"Yeah. And I'll tell you this much. I couldn't believe it. Everybody around here knows about Billy."

"Billy?"

"Yeah. Bad news from the word go. Roughed up a few of the boys'. Put a couple in the hospital, and about two months ago a new boy was found dead in a dumpster not too far from here. He was doped to the gills and beaten to death. Everybody knows who did it including the cops, but they won't do anything."

"Why the hell not?"

The small man shrugged. "Nobody gives a shit about us. The cops just figure one less hooker, you know?"

Mulder cursed under his breath. "Do you know where they usually hang out?"

"Yeah, but I ain't tellin' you. They ever found out, I'd be the next to get snuffed."

"Please," Mulder begged, reaching into his back pocket. "I gotta find him before anything happens to him."

The hooker watched as the taller man thumbed through a number of bills.

"Why's he so important to you? You family?"

"No. But we've known each other a long time." Mulder pulled out two hundred dollars and showed it to the other man. "Please?"

The right corner of the young man's mouth twitched as he eyed the bills.

"Uh... ah, shit." He moved closer and motioned for Mulder to lean in a bit so he could speak into his ear. "Anybody asks, you didn't hear it from me."

"Don't worry."

"Down that way four blocks. Take your first right, go two streets down and take a left. A little ways down you'll see a warehouse. Got the name Weston on the tower. They're always in there. Maybe that's where they got your boy. Be careful Daddy, they ain't no lightweights."

Mulder slipped the bills to the man and thanked him before he sprinted back down the street to his car.

Long fingers curled in the glossy sable strands of the kneeling man's hair as the first of the five men shoved his rubber-protected cock in and out of his mouth.

Eyes squeezed shut, Billy grunted with each thrust, moving faster as the sound of Alex choking aroused him further. Finally, he tipped his head back, snarling as he came then pulled out of the prostitute's mouth.

"Ah, that was good. Who's next?"

"Me." Mickey shoved to the front. "Open up, bitch."

"Hey, Mickey."

He turned his head to look at the other man. "What?"

"Rubber."

"What the fuck for? Don't matter what he catches."

"No, but what about you, shithead? He's a hooker. How do you know he ain't got somethin'?"

"Yeah, didn't think of that."

Billy shook his head. "It's amazing you've lived this long." He threw a condom at the other man who quickly unwrapped it and rolled it onto his cock.

Before Mickey could get into Alex's mouth, one of the men holding him up began to complain.

"Hey, man, he's gettin' heavy."

"Quit your bitchin'."

"I ain't kiddin', Mickey," Taz grumbled. "We're holdin' up a dead weight here."

"Oh, for... fine. Drop him, then."

The two men let Alex thump to the floor, and Mickey kneeled beside him, shoving a hand inside the waistband of his jeans.

"Guess you're gonna have to take it up the ass instead." He grabbed a handful of hair and jerked Alex's head up. "You don't mind, do ya? Nah, I didn't think so."

Wrestling the almost unconscious man's jeans down to his knees, Mickey draped himself over his back and worked the head of his cock into his ass.

"Too bad you ain't awake for this," he grated into Alex's ear as he pushed into him. "Ain't as much fun when nobody's screamin' for mercy."

Four brutal thrusts and Mickey was done, shuddering as he came.

"Oh, yeah, you're a fuckin' stud," Wes said flatly, pushing the spent man away. "That had to be the shortest fuck in history."

Mickey lay on his back, giving Wes the finger as the third man rolled Alex onto his back.

"This'll wake you up." Wes pulled the hooker forward and drove into him then began tugging at his flaccid cock.

Quickly recovering, Mickey broke into laughter. "What the hell do you think you're doin'? Asshole, that bitch is out."

"His eyes are open... sorta..."

"But there ain't nobody home. You ain't even gettin' a whimper outta him."

Wes snorted and glared down into glazed slivers of green. "You ain't completely out, are you pretty boy?" He drew his hand up and brought it down hard across the other man's face. A slight twitch was all the response he received, and his anger flared as the laughter grew louder.

"Dammit, Billy, you shouldn'ta given him so much."

"I didn't!"

"There ain't nobody home."

Billy stifled a giggle. "Yeah, sorry, Wes. I know how you love to see the terror in their eyes when they get a load of your huge dick."

Wes slapped the drugged man's face again in frustration, then pulled the knife out of the back pocket of his jeans.

"Don't you dare," Billy warned as the other man dragged the blade along the prostitute's cheek.

"What difference does it make?" the other asked. "It's like fuckin' a corpse, anyway."

"Yeah, but at least he's warm. When everybody's had a turn, you can have 'im."

"Hear that?" Wes whispered, unable to resist flicking the knife across Alex's cheek and drawing a trickle of blood. He then released the weapon and, holding the prone man's hips in a bruising grip, slammed into him over and over, his agitated groans bouncing off the walls of the warehouse...

Sounds.

A human voice... unrecognizable... moaning.

Mulder pulled his Sig out of his jeans and backed into the shadows, trying to determine which direction the sounds were coming from.

Upstairs.

Silently, he ascended the steps, heart pounding faster as he got closer to the origin of those sounds. And now...

Laughter.

His trigger finger twitched as he was now able to make out some words.

"Ride 'im, Wes."

"Gonna fuck you... again, bitch, when you're... awake, an' I'm gonna... gonna skin you... alive while I'm doin' it..."

More laughing.

"What a sick fuck..."

"And a dead fuck."

All eyes turned to the entrance and focused on the man standing approximately twenty feet away, holding a gun on them.

"Who the hell are you?" Billy demanded starting to rise, but a bullet passing within inches of his head and lodging in the wall behind him dropped him back into place on his crate.

The gun shifted, pointing directly at Wes' head as he reached for the his knife and held it to the comatose man's throat.

"I'll slit him from ear to ear," the man threatened, fueling Mulder's rage.

One nearly black eye squinted, and the gunman's hand moved a bit to the left, zeroing in on the arm that held the knife.

"Go ahead and try it," the soft monotone dared the other man, "and we'll see which one of us is faster."

Billy laughed nervously. "Get Dirty Harry. You think you're that bad, motherfucker?"

Another shot rang out, and Wes fell to the floor beside Alex, holding his bleeding wrist and screeching in agony.

"Yeah." Mulder pointed the Sig at Billy and looked at the other three, frozen with fright. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind and blow all your heads off."

The others scattered like mice, leaving Billy and his wounded friend behind.

"Billy," Wes wailed, shivering as he went into shock. "It's broken, man. I think he shattered the bone. God, it hurts... oh, God..."

"Shut the fuck up," Billy grated, not taking his eyes off of the man who was slowly approaching. "Who are you? What d'you want?"

Mulder looked down at Alex, noticing the ever so slight flutter of his eyelashes and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. "Alex? Alex, can you hear me?"

No response.

"What did you do to him?"

"What does somebody usually do to a hooker? We were just having a little..."

"What did you do to him?" Mulder roared, his patience running dangerously short.

"We just... Jesus, man, we just gave him a little somethin' to chill him out."

"So he'd be easier to kill?"

"Kill? Hey, man, I don't know what made you..."

Billy choked on his remaining words as the muzzle of the gun pressed against his forehead.

"What did you give him?"

"Huh? Nothing! He just had a little drink, and..."

Mulder released the safety. "I'll ask you again. You've got until three to answer, or I'm going to hollow out your skull. What did you give him?"

"'Bout a half a bottle of Vodka... coupla Roofies..."

In seconds, Mulder was on the man, inflicting on him a swift and brutal beating using the butt of his gun. He broke off the assault as quickly as he'd initiated it and turned his attention to Alex.

"Alex?" He touched the bruised and bloodied face. "Alex, come on. Talk to me, please?"

Nothing.

Quickly checking the younger man's vitals, Mulder cursed softly under his breath.

"We're gonna get out of here now, okay? But you have to help me." He gently shook the other man. "Come on, wake up. Alex, you gotta wake up."

The soft whimper encouraged him to continue. He tapped the uninjured cheek, again calling the other's name.

"Alex... open your eyes. Come on. Come on."

The drugged man began to moan and grimace, and Mulder leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry. I know you're hurting, but you have to get up. You have to wake up and stay awake."

Grunting with the tremendous effort it took, Mulder pulled Alex's clothing back into place, lifted the younger man to his feet and, not giving the two severely injured men another look, managed to half walk, half carry him out of the room. Carefully, he negotiated the stairs and made it out to the car, holding Alex up with one arm while unlocking the door. As carefully as he could, Mulder lowered him into the passenger's seat then ran around the car and jumped in.

"You're gonna be okay," he told the semi-conscious man, not at all sure that Alex could hear or even understand what he was saying. "But you have to stay awake." Mulder reached across the seat, rubbing and tapping his face.

Alex reacted to the sensation, grunting and attempting to move his head away, but the combination of pills and liquor had greatly diminished his motor skills. Finally, he gave up on the effort and let his head drop onto the back of the seat.

"No, Alex." Mulder started the car and pulled away from the curb, then resumed jostling the other man. "Come on, you were doing good. Wake up. Please? Open your eyes and curse at me. Spit at me... something. Hell, I'll let you beat the shit out of me later if you want, just please don't go to sleep."

Mulder sighed heavily, praying for a little guidance. He knew the effects of Rohypnol and alcohol, but he had nothing but Billy's word on how much Alex had actually ingested. He needed some reassurance that he was doing the right thing for him. He needed...

"Scully."

Grabbing for his cell phone, he hit Scully's speed dial number. The phone rang three times before a sleepy voice answered.

"H'llo?"

"Scully, it's me."

"Mulder? What... do you know what time it is? Is... is something wrong?"

"I'm okay, Scully, but I need your help."

"With what? You're supposed to be on vacation. Don't tell me you managed to fall across an x-file..."

"No. Listen to me. What do you do for someone who's ingested Rohypnol and Vodka?"

"You're kidding."

"Scully, please."

"Get them to a hospital, Mulder."

"If I could do that, Scully, I wouldn't be calling you."

"What the hell have you got yourself into?"

Alex moaned again, and drew Mulder's attention from the conversation. He petted the younger man's hair and cheek.

"That's it, stay with me."

"Mulder."

"I'm here."

"God. How long ago did this happen?"

"I can't be sure, but... half an hour to an hour at least."

"Did you check for vitals?"

"He's semi-conscious but that's actually better than when I found him. He's making a little noise now. Pulse is slow but steady. Pupils sluggish but reactive. His color's not bad, but he's a little clammy. Uh... diminished reflexes..."

"But you say he's coming around?"

"Slowly."

"No convulsions?"

"No."

"Where are you?"

"In the car. I'm taking him to the hotel."

"To your room? Mulder, you don't... where... how do you... you just met this person. The most you could have known him is a few days..."

"Not actually."

"What?"

"I knew him in D.C."

"You did?"

"Yeah. So did you."

"Me? Mulder, who the hell have you got there?...... Mulder?"

"........Alex Krycek."

"What??"

Mulder pulled the phone away from his ear.

"Mulder, tell me you're kidding!"

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?"

"Where the hell did you find Alex Krycek?"

"I'm sorry, Scully, I don't have the time to get into this with you. I'll be at the hotel soon. Just tell me what to do."

"I can't even believe this," Scully muttered. "Uh... try and keep him awake and moving at least until he's lucid. Cool shower... no coffee. Keep a close eye on him, that combination could have cardiac effects that might not show up right away."

"Effects like what?"

"Mulder, he could drop from a heart attack if there's enough of that stuff in his system."

"Jesus."

"I don't think it'll happen. He doesn't sound that bad, but I just wanted you to know the possibilities. Get through the next twenty four hours, and I'd say he was home free."

"O-okay, Scully. Thanks."

"Mulder?"

"This is Alex Krycek. Be careful, okay?"

He didn't bother to argue. "Yeah. I'm pulling up to the hotel now. Talk to you later."

"All right."

Mulder disconnected and came to a stop in front of the door. He motioned to the doorman as he got out of the car, and ran halfway to meet him.

"I need your help."

The man looked past Mulder to the figure in the car and smiled. "Of course, sir. What do you need?"

"Is there another entrance? Another way for me to get up to my room without having to go through the main lobby?"

The younger man's anxiety washed the smile from the doorman's face. "Yes, uh... there is. It's the service entrance. For employees only..."

"I need to use it." He looked to the car. "He's sick. He's in no shape, and I don't want to bring him through the lobby... people staring. It... it's my fault... I did this to him, and I have to..."

"Okay," the older man said soothingly. "Okay, take it easy. Bring him around to the back. I'll meet you there, and we'll get him up to your room."

"Thank you," Mulder breathed, clasping a hand over the other man's arm before hurrying back to the car.

"Two minutes, Alex," he promised, again rousing the younger man as he fell into the car and pulled around the back of the hotel. "Two minutes, and we'll get you all cleaned up and comfortable, okay?"

Only the flutter of sable eyelashes answered his proposal.

As promised, the doorman met him at the back of the building, and they quickly but carefully extricated the limp man from the car. They brought him to the service elevator, and once the doorman had them up to Mulder's floor, he turned and eyed the other.

"Jeez, he doesn't look good. Somebody beat him up?"

Mulder's eyes darkened to a stormy shade of green at the thought. He eased the younger man's head to his shoulder and stroked the dark hair.

"Yeah."

"He'll be okay. I know you're going to take good care of him."

"I'm going to try."

The door opened, and the two men slowly maneuvered the third down the hall to room twelve-fourteen. Mulder let them in and thanked the older man profusely for his assistance.

"Don't worry about it. Just get him better. If you need any more help, I'm here from nine p.m. to five a.m." He turned and scribbled on the pad of paper that lay on the table by the door. "Any other time you can reach me at this number."

"Thank you so much." Fox shook the man's hand and turned his attention immediately to the man slumped against him.

The doorman walked to the exit and, sending a concerned smile Mulder's way, he stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him.

"Okay, Alex," Mulder murmured in the younger man's ear. "How about a nice shower, huh? You'll feel better when you're all cleaned up."

Soft groan.

"Come on, you pain in my ass. Open your eyes and give me some shit."

A sliver of glittering green appeared under the sweeping eyelashes then disappeared.

Mulder lowered the younger man to the bed and began to pull off his already unfastened clothing. As quickly as he could, he stripped Alex naked and, to a round of welcome albeit incoherent complaints, pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, he waited until the water ran to the warm side of tepid, then turned Alex's face up to his.

"Okay, you're gonna get in the tub yourself and stand on your own, right? ... You're not, are you? You're going to make me get in there with you, aren't you? God, come on, Alex."

No response.

"Son of a... okay, this should be interesting..."

With one hand, Mulder worked at the buttons on his shirt and somehow managed to get it peeled off without letting Alex hit the floor. Then, in a move that would have made Houdini proud, he kicked his shoes off, squirmed out of his pants and socks, and hefted Alex into the shower.

The younger man began to moan and writhe, but Mulder's hand moving over his back and the soothing voice murmuring in his ear, quieted him.

Quickly becoming proficient at using only one hand, Mulder squeezed some bath gel onto the nearby sponge and began rubbing it gently over the other man, thinking to himself that at any other time he would consider this some pretty hot foreplay.

But not now.

Right now this man resting so helplessly in his arms aroused in him an emotion that went much deeper than lust.

Hugging Alex to him, he pressed a kiss into the drenched hair and continued to wash away the blood, the smell of the warehouse, and that of the scum who had treated him so brutally.

They hadn't deserved the mercy he'd shown them. None of them. But there was no time for him to do to them what he really wanted to do. He had to consider Alex's condition first. But now, as he stood there clad in nothing more than his drenched boxer briefs, bathing his naked, semi conscious former nemesis, he had the time to think about it, and the rage he felt shook him to the core.

"They'd better pray I never see them again," he whispered into the younger man's hair, knowing with all certainty that if given a second opportunity, there would be nothing to prevent him from killing all five of the fuckers.

He finished cleaning Alex up, being especially careful around all of the more tender areas, then slowly eased the temperature knob over to cool.

Alex became a bit more active, shivering and fussing as the spray grew cold, and the hand that had soothed and comforted him now insisted that he wake up.

"Alex." Mulder briskly rubbed the younger man's back and arms. "Time to wake up. You're getting damn heavy, and this water is freezing." He tapped the lightly stubbled face. "Come on, I let you rest for a little while, but you gotta wake up now..."

That voice.

Not any of those Alex had last remembered hearing, but very familiar, nonetheless.

And comforting. He liked this voice.

And he liked the arms folded around him. There was a warmth in this embrace... in the body pressed against him, even though the rain was freezing.

What the hell was he doing out in the rain, naked?

Had to be a dream.

But, God, it was so real.

He lifted his weakened arms and clung loosely to the body against him, letting himself feel the sting of the water.

So cold. Felt almost like D.C. rain...

"...Very good... that's good... open your eyes..."

He was beginning to feel different. The haze was slowly lifting, and reality had begun to creep in.

He wasn't dreaming about being naked in someone's arms in the rain. He was naked in someone's arms... in a shower...

Mulder watched recognition slowly filter in and clear the glaze a bit from Alex's eyes. He said a silent prayer of thanks then waited expectantly as the sable head lifted a fraction from his shoulder, and Alex looked around. His eyes drifted shut again, and he lowered his head to Mulder's shoulder with a pained sigh.

"Jeez. Where am I?"

"You're safe."

Was that?

No...

"Freezing."

"I know, but I had to wake you up. They drugged you."

Drugged?

Shit.

It came back to him in a rush.

That asshole Billy and his cronies... a warehouse... booze... terrible pain...

Holy Christ, what the hell had gotten into him? What could've made him doing something so stupid?

Mulder.

Oh, God...

Alex forced himself to lift his head and focused a fuzzy gaze on the one who held him.

"What... what're you..."

Alex tried to push away from the other man, but his strength was gone.

"Let me go," he pleaded on a sobbing breath even as his head fell back to the other man's shoulder.

"If I do, you'll hit the floor." Mulder said matter of factly as he shut the water off. With one arm still around Alex for support, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around the younger man's shoulders. "Hold on to me so I can dry you."

"How'd you find me?"

"You're lucky I did. Krycek, you gotta hold on to me. I can't hold you up and dry you."

"Why?"

"Why can't I?"

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off a wave of pain.

"No. Why'd you look for me?"

"If I hadn't, the cops would've found you dead in a dumpster tomorrow."

Alex knew it was true.

"I'm going to sit you down for just a minute, okay? I gotta dry myself off."

Not waiting for an answer, Mulder carefully led Alex out of the tub, wrapped a fresh towel around him, and lowered him to the toilet seat. He removed his soaked underwear, dried himself quickly, then wrapped the damp towel around his waist. That done, he reached down to help Alex up.

"Let's get you something to wear, then we're going to walk a little."

Still dazed green eyes opened and looked up at Mulder. "What?"

"We need to clear your head a little more. I want to make sure you're good and lucid before I even think about letting you go to sleep."

Letting you go to sleep...

He hadn't said, 'letting you go home' or 'getting you the hell out of here', no. He said, 'letting you go to sleep'. As in, 'Nighty night, Alex, see you in the morning.'

Alex frowned up at the older man as he was lifted to his feet.

"I can't... I can't stay here."

"Yeah, you can."

"No. No. I'm not. I..."

"Shut the hell up, Krycek. You're staying here."

"No."

"Don't think I won't cuff you to the bed if I have to."

Alex stared at the other man as he was slowly walked into the bedroom.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Mulder lowered him to the bed then walked to the dresser for a pair of underwear.

"What do you think I'm doing to you?"

Alex closed his eyes as the room began to spin. "This", he grated, moaning as the action just made things worse.

Mulder returned and, ignoring the incoherent protests, put the underwear on the younger man.

"If you're referring to facing down five assholes, one of which held a knife to your throat as he fucked you..."

The look that crossed Alex's face made him immediately regrets his words. He continued in a softer tone.

"...and getting you out of there before they actually killed you, I'm doing it to you because I care. Now, come on. You have to get up and walk a little."

"Tired," Alex replied in a small voice as he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Everything hurts."

"I know," Mulder said almost inaudibly, tentatively running his fingers through the damp hair before moving them both forward. "I'm sorry. I promise you can go to sleep in a little while, okay?"

Alex nodded, silently berating himself for his sudden transformation from arrogant, self-sufficient man to vulnerable, whiny child.

Okay, so maybe the child bit was taking it a little far, but he couldn't deny that he was whining, and for some reason he'd never felt so vulnerable in all his life. And the thing was, he really had to admit that it wasn't as repulsive a thing as he thought it would be. In fact, truth be told, it felt good to just let go and put himself in someone else's hands.

Not someone else.

Fox Mulder.

He knew deep down that he would never do this with anyone but Mulder. He couldn't.

And still, in spite of all that, he was scared to death. Scared of feeling too good. Scared that once he felt good and secure, it would all go up in smoke.

"Talk to me, Alex."

The soft order brought him out of his reverie.

"'Bout what?" "Anything. I just want to make sure you stay awake."

"You want to know what I'm doing out here. Why I'm doing what I do."

"Yeah, I do. But we don't have to get into anything that heavy now."

Alex struggled to keep his eyes open. "Good," he sighed. "Can't think anyway."

"Okay. So let's sing. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall..."

"You really are insane."

"Insult me all you want, but you're not going to sleep yet."

"I will if I want to."

"No, you won't."

"Fuck you, Mulder."

"Look," Mulder began in an agitated tone, "you think I'm not tired? You think I'm enjoying walking your ass back and forth here? I could've been asleep hours ago. I should have been, but nooooo."

"Nobody told you to come out looking for me."

"You're right. Nobody did. Nobody else would have given a shit. But I do. Why does that scare you so much?"

Alex managed a pained laugh. "Been faced with scarier assholes than you."

"You haven't answered the question."

"Not scared," Alex muttered.

"No?" Mulder asked softly, stroking two fingers across the younger man's lower lip and watched it quiver. "I think you're a damn liar." He moved his fingers to the bruise and cut that it overlaid. "This hurt much?"

Silent shrug.

"They'd better pray I never run across them again."

Alex stared at the older man, trying for all he was worth to find some insincerity in his tone, but all it revealed was a deadly honesty that could not be denied or ignored. His body tingled in response, and he looked away, trying not to let the other man see what was in his eyes. But it was everywhere else; from the set of his mouth to the way he held his head, and Mulder had always been pretty damn good at reading people.

"Why didn't you go home, Alex? Why did you go off with those assholes? You knew what that Billy was about."

"H... how do you know what I know?"

"There are people out there, who, for the right amount of encouragement will tell you what you want to know."

Alex closed his eyes and sighed.

"Stay awake."

"M'not going to sleep."

"Okay. So?"

"So, what?"

"So, why'd you do it?"

"Thought we weren't going to get into a heavy conversation?"

"Okay," Mulder conceded. "You're right. How do you feel?"

"Like shit. If I don't lie down soon, you're going to be dragging me across this floor."

Mulder studied the younger man for a moment then nodded.

"I guess it's safe to let you rest now."

"Gosh, thanks."

Mulder walked the other man over to the bed, arranging the pillows into a pile then lay him back against them.

Alex winced as he shifted this way and that, then finally settled into the most comfortable position he could find.

Mulder waited until Alex's movement stilled then, "Can I get you anything?"

"No. Well..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm a little dry."

Mulder retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator behind the small bar and brought it over to the bed.

Alex took the bottle and drained more than half its contents before looking up at the older man and mumbling his thanks.

"Guess you were dry," Mulder observed as he watched the other drink down the rest of the water. "More?"

Alex shook his head and handed the empty bottle back.

"Hungry?"

"No." Alex let his head fall back against the pillows and closed his eyes, but almost immediately lifted it again.

"Shit."

"Dizzy?"

Alex nodded slightly, taking slow, deep breaths.

Mulder seated himself at the edge of the bed and rearranged the pillows so that Alex didn't have to tilt his head back.

"Okay. Now, try to close your eyes."

Alex obeyed, sighing heavily.

"Is that better?"

The low monotone washed him in warmth, calming his nerves and bringing a contentment he hadn't felt in... well, never. He moaned softly, unconsciously turning into the hand that was now caressing the side of his face.

"Sleep now. I'll check on you in about an hour."

Alex issued a barely audible sigh in response, his mind and body already drifting into the darkness.

Mulder sat quietly, watching the diminishing movements of the heavy fringe of lashes and wished for nothing more than to be able to lie down and pull Alex into the protective warmth of his arms, but he wasn't quite sure how that would go over. He was shocked enough that the younger man was lying here in his bed, letting him offer comfort.

Mulder lingered a bit longer, waiting until he was fairly sure that Alex was asleep, then rose from the bed and headed toward the bathroom. Before he could make it to the door, an agitated sound reached his ears. He turned to find Alex shifting restlessly, half open eyes searching his immediate surroundings.

Mulder walked back over to the bed and sat down, reaching out to run a hand over the top of the younger man's head.

"What is it?" he whispered, receiving no verbal answer. The other simply gravitated toward him and settled into a contented silence once his presence could again be felt.

Mulder stared at the younger man as he lulled him back to sleep.

Mystifying.

How could he shift from strong-willed and arrogant to unsure and frightened to so completely submissive and needy all in the span of a couple of days? Hours?

Mulder changed position, carefully lifting his legs onto the bed and pushing back against the pillows. He continued to observe Alex while his hand gently massaged the back, which was now turned to him.

Maybe the confusion isn't as much yours as it is his.

He maintained his position on the bed for over an hour then, as much as he didn't want to do it, gently shook Alex awake.

"Alex."

No response.

"Alex?"

"Hmm."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing a kiss across the younger man's shoulder. "I'm going to have to keep checking on you through the night. You can sleep as long as you want tomorrow. Do you know where you are?"

"In hell."

Mulder turned the groggy man's face to his. "Does that make me Satan?"

Alex's eyelashes fluttered and lifted. "Don't you want my soul?"

Mulder let the question pass. "Where are you?" he asked softly.

"Your hotel room."

"And who am I?"

"Mulder."

"How do you feel?"

Alex's head nestled back into the pillow. "Tired." He grimaced as he mumbled into the linen-covered cushion. "Hurts."

"I know. Go back to sleep."

Mulder didn't have to issue the command twice. Alex drew a deep breath and drifted back into sleep almost immediately. He lay quietly behind the other man, fingers skimming the warm surface of his skin, learning its texture. He leaned in, rubbing his cheek over Alex's shoulder, inhaling and memorizing his scent. Ever so gently, his tongue inched out, stroking over the satiny surface, reveling in the younger man's flavor.

"I do want your soul," he whispered, caressing the sleeping man's arm.

When he was sure that Alex was deeply asleep, Mulder left the comfort of the bed and, unwrapping the towel from his waist, pulled a pair of underwear out of the drawer and wrestled it on over the raging erection he sported. Wrapping a light robe around himself, he pulled a chair up beside the bed and took a seat. Shaking off the urge to close his eyes, he reached for the remote and turned the television on, flipping through channel after channel, stopping on what had quickly become his favorite.

He watched for more than twenty minutes, torturing himself with the images on screen, seeing himself and Alex in the place of the two men... twined together, clutching at each other, kissing, almost devouring...

Gilded eyes flicked from the screen to the man lying unconscious on the bed.

Cut and bruised... eyes swollen and black with exhaustion, he was still unnervingly beautiful and more desirable than anything Mulder had ever seen.

Crossing his legs and willing his cock to stop its throbbing, Mulder changed the channel to something more innocuous. He turned the sound all the way down and leaned back in his seat, watching the steady rise and fall of the other man's chest... observing the intermittent flutter of his eyelashes, and his gaze fell away. He took long, steady breaths, his heart pounding rapidly, the intensity of it drowning out the throb of his cock.

He's right, you know. You are insane. Wanting this man, knowing all that he's done and all that he's been... it's demented. it's..it's psychotic.

His eyes again rose to look upon the sleep-softened features.

It's undeniable.

"Please give me your soul, Alex," he requested softly. "God knows why, but you've already got mine."

For the rest of the night and well into the morning, Mulder woke Alex every hour or so, incurring the younger man's ire each time, and finally, at around ten a.m., he watched the exhausted, emerald eyes close, and he vowed that this would be the last time. Alex had remained lucid through the night, and Mulder didn't have the heart to wake him any more. Besides, he was about ready to fall on his face too, if he didn't get some sleep.

But not in this damn chair.

Quietly, he crept up onto the bed and lay beside the other man, just barely letting their legs touch, and quickly drifted into a heavy slumber.

A soft but insistent sound startled Mulder out of sleep. He rolled to his right, snatching his cell phone up off of the nightstand and brought it to his ear, looking over at the man beside him.

"Mulder."

"Mulder? I can hardly hear you."

"That's because I'm whispering." Mulder carefully slid out of bed to avoid disturbing the still sleeping man.

"Why are you... oh. I guess he's still there?"

"Yeah."

"Asleep?"

"He's exhausted." Mulder looked at his watch. "Until ten this morning, I hadn't let him sleep for more than an hour or so at a time."

"So he's been asleep for..."

"'Bout three hours."

"And he's been okay?"

"Yeah. I guess they didn't give him enough to do any real damage."

"Mulder, can you tell me now? What the hell's going on out there?"

"I... I can't go into any real detail, Scully. I'm sorry. Hell, I don't even know the whole story."

"Well, whatever it is, it isn't your problem. You've saved that low life snake's ass. You've done your good deed. As soon as he wakes up, boot him the hell out of there and pray to God you never see him again."

"It..." Oh, God. "It isn't just a matter of letting him sleep it off."

"What d'you mean?"

"He wasn't just doped up, Scully. He's hurt. And... and he won't take care of himself."

"So... what? You're going to do it?"

"...Yeah."

"You know, Mulder, I'd ask you if you were serious, but I can hear in your voice that you are. So, my next question is, why?"

"I don't... I... I don't really know for sure. I wish I could explain it to you so that you could understand."

"Try."

Mulder ran a hand through his tousled hair and moved a little farther from the bed.

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I already think you're crazy, Mulder. Just tell me."

"Okay. I'm going to ask you a question, and I want the absolute truth, okay?"

"Okay..."

"We've known Krycek for years. We know he's done some things... rotten, nasty things that take all kinds off balls, would you agree with that?"

"Oh, yeah. I agree with that."

"Have you ever... just once admired his nerve?"

"Never."

"Scully, you didn't even think about it before you answered."

"What the hell's to think about? The man's... you know what he is."

"Yes, I know. But a person doesn't have to be a saint for you to admire a quality that they might possess."

"Mulder, the man killed your father. He was there when Melissa was killed. What's there to admire?"

"I know all that, Scully. Believe me, I haven't forgotten it. But I can't..." Mulder broke off his sentence and heaved a long sigh.

"You can't what?"

"I can't help how I feel."

"How you feel..."

He'd gone this far, there was no turning back now.

"He's... he's magnetic, Scully. He's arrogant, and he's confident, and he's proud. Being out here in California has dulled that somehow. He doesn't shine as brightly as he used to. But it's there, it just needs a little polishing."

"You really do sound like you admire him. Jesus, Mulder, what the hell's the matter with you?"

"I don't know," Mulder sighed. "But... that isn't all he is, Scully. There's more to him than what I just told you. He goes so much deeper than I thought he did."

"Mulder, I can't tell you how confused you've got me."

"He's... there's a sadness in his eyes. This soul-deep loneliness..."

"And you want to be his new best friend?"

"Scully..."

"Sorry. Continue."

"He's tired, and he's... confused. I think I did that to him."

"Confused him?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"I gave him something he never had. Only he didn't know it was me at first. And when he found out, that's when the real confusion began."

"I'm getting a headache trying to follow you, Mulder."

"I know, I'm confusing myself... something's going on here between us, Scully, and I have to find out what it is."

"And now you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, but this isn't going to help much... I want him."

"You..."

"Want him. Sexually, emotionally..."

"If this is a joke, Mulder, it's a really bad one."

"It's not. When I found out what had happened to him last night... I wanted to kill the men who did it. I would have if his life wasn't in immediate danger. And now, all I want to do is take care of him... hold him and make him feel safe." He turned to look at the still figure on the bed. "I'm watching him sleep right now. He's so beautiful, Scully..."

"I'm dreaming," Scully breathed. "That's it. That's what it is. I'm still asleep, and this is a nightmare."

"I'm sorry, Scully, to be saying this to you on the phone. But I can't help it, I can't... I can't explain it. It's just like I'm full up, and it's got no place left to go but out."

"God. I can't believe this. Mulder, come home. All that California sunshine is obviously frying your brain."

"Maybe it's just warming my cold, cold heart."

"God, that's sappy, Mulder."

"I know."

"Seriously, I'm worried about you. You hate Alex Krycek. You've hated him for years, and now this?"

"You know what they say about that fine line."

"Mulder!"

"What?"

"Don't even... I mean, you're not... God, you don't think you're in love with that rat bastard."

Silence, then a frightened, "Mulder?"

"I think it's a possibility. I think it's always been a possibility."

"Mulder... I don't even know what to say to you."

"You don't have to say anything, Scully."

"But," the woman on the other end sputtered. "But... Mulder, you have to know that this can't possibly go anywhere!"

"I don't know that. I think he wants me too."

"If he's giving you that impression, it's more than likely just to mess with your head. He's Alex Krycek, and he's jerking you around, as always!"

"No," Mulder answered flatly. "If you were here. If you saw... there's so much more to him than what he showed us."

"Mulder, the man is a consummate liar. He's leading you on. Don't you get it? Whatever it is you think he is now, he's faking it!"

"He didn't fake..." Mulder lowered his voice a few decibels and resumed his argument through gritted teeth. "He didn't fake being drugged and assaulted, Scully. The man's been hurt."

"Whatever happened to him, I'm sure he deserved it."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"No? Okay, well, explain it to me. Please, Mulder, I'm dying to understand."

"I don't have the time or the desire to argue with you about this any more," Mulder sighed. "I'm going now."

"Mulder, please."

"What?"

"Don't hang up this way."

"Believe me, Scully, I'd rather not. But I don't see you even making an effort, and I'm not going to sit here on the phone with you and argue all afternoon. I don't want to be all bent out of shape when Alex wakes up."

"Mulder..."

"Goodbye, Scully."

Mulder disconnected and walked back to the bed, where he found Alex in the exact same position he'd left him in.

Pulling the sheet up over the younger man's shoulder, Mulder spoke softly.

"It's okay. I didn't expect her to understand. Doesn't matter anyway. Nothing she says can make me walk away from you."

For the next seven hours Mulder lingered in his room, either watching television or reading, often breaking to check on his slumbering guest. Alex had moved little in all that time, and he was sorely tempted a few times to wake the younger man just to make sure he was all right. But a soft sigh or slight twitch of the other's body held him at bay.

Finally, at around eight p.m. Alex began to regain consciousness. His eyes opened and closed several times, attempting to focus on the fuzzy images around him.

Lamp.

Table and chairs.

Bellhop wheeling in a tray full of food.

His eyes flicked to the immediate left of the bellhop.

Mulder.

It wasn't a dream.

Alex turned onto his back and moaned.

God, no, it wasn't a dream.

Hearing the pained sound, two pairs of eyes fell to the figure on the bed. While the bellhop looked quickly away, Mulder's gaze remained intently focused on the man in his bed.

"Thanks." He absently handed the other man a ten, cueing him to take his leave. When the bellhop had gone, Mulder moved over to the bed and sat down.

"How d'you feel?"

Alex closed his eyes and let his head roll to the side. "Been better, been worse."

"Hungry?"

"No."

"Well, I'm starving. Had some toast earlier but that was it. Uh... where are you going?"

Alex shoved the light blanket back and pushed himself out of bed.

"Leaving."

"No, you're not."

"Yeah, I am. Listen, Mulder, thanks for letting me sleep it off up here, but it's time for me to go."

"You're not going anywhere," Mulder called flatly, watching as the younger man hobbled around the room in obvious pain.

"Yeah. I am. Where are my clothes?"

"I sent them down to the laundry."

Alex spun around as quickly as he could, glaring at the older man. "What the hell for?"

"Because there was blood on them, and they smelled like stale booze and sweat. Come on, sit down and have something to eat."

Stunned green eyes stared into tranquil hazel.

"Krycek? You okay?"

Alex's jaw worked steadily, his throat emitting no sound as he continued to stare at the seated man. Then, in a burst of energy, he moved back toward the bed, snatching up the robe draped at its foot. He struggled into the thick, white covering as he made for the door, but Mulder got there first.

"What are you doing?"

"I gotta get out of here," Alex murmured more to himself than the man blocking his path. "Can't... I can't stay..."

"And you can't go out like this. Now, I know there are a lot of weirdos out here, but don't you think you'd look just a bit out of place wandering the streets in a bathrobe?"

"Then get my fucking clothes!"

Mulder calmly shook his head. "You don't want to go."

"The hell I don't!" Alex winced at the pain his yelling caused in his head.

The older man moved closer, his voice a sensuous hum, slithering around Alex's frayed nerves.

"I know you don't. What I don't know is why you feel the need to fight it." He raised a hand, gently sliding his fingertips across the other's collar bone. "Stay and have dinner with me. We don't have to talk if you don't want to. It'll just be enough that you're here."

Alex stood silently, only the trembling of his body giving his emotions away. He allowed Mulder to take his hand and lead him away from the door.

"I..." he stammered, glancing toward the bathroom. "I gotta clean up."

"Okay." Not relinquishing his hold on Alex's hand, Mulder led the way to the bathroom. "They got everything in this joint. "Spare toothbrushes, combs, shoe shine kits, not that you'd need that..."

Mulder rambled on, but only half of his words were making it through the haze of confusion swirling around in Alex's brain.

"Allleeex..."

"Hmm? What?"

"I told you to call if you needed me."

"Yeah," Alex whispered breathily, nodding. "Yeah, okay."

"You all right?" Mulder asked, incurring a faint whimper as he touched the younger man's cheek.

Alex inched away, nodding.

"All right, I'll..." Mulder let his hand drop to his side, and he backed up to the door. "...I'll be out here. I'll leave the door open a bit so I can hear better, okay?"

Alex shrugged, clutching the robe to himself.

Mulder left the younger man alone and drifted back into the room. While he waited, he rang for housekeeping and asked that someone come up and change the sheets, then he sat down at the table and looked out at the twinkling lights of the city.

Maybe he and Alex could go out one night when he was feeling better. Dinner and a nice jazz club perhaps.

He smiled at the thought of the two of them out together, sitting side by side in some dark little club... so close that their thighs brushed against each other. Sharing drinks and lingering touches...

Mulder shook off the fantasy and forced his thoughts back to reality.

And reality was this:

This was one fucked up situation.

He was completely obsessed with... well, with the last person in the world he ever would have thought he'd be obsessed with... his partner wanted to have him committed for said obsession, and the object of his sudden, burning passion kept pushing him away even as his traitorous soul cried out for him...

Continue to Part 2

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