They drew the meal out as long as possible. Fox even managed to gain a little extra time by fussing that the food had grown cold and needed to be reheated, but it came to an end eventually. There came a point when there was nothing more to do but put the dishes in the sink. Olivero wouldn't even let Fox rinse them and load the dishwasher, insisting that was what the housekeeper was paid for, and she could tend to it in the morning.

It was almost nine o'clock when they finally ran out of ways to stall without being obvious. Olivero plucked away the dishtowel Fox had been using to dry his hands, tossing it on the counter. "Where shall we spend the rest of the evening, my friends? The salon? The gym?" His eyes were hooded. "My bed was specially constructed. It can easily hold four."

*I'd like to stay on the ground floor--keep as little distance between us and the chopper landing point for as long as possible,* thought Ethan. *Plus we haven't seen Montana's bedroom. There's no telling how difficult it might be to get out of, and I'd want to give it a thorough search before...*

"I was thinking of the sauna," said Fox lazily. "I spent far too long in boarding schools, and..." he shrugged, "the atmosphere of the locker room just appeals to me." He tipped his head, glancing at Olivero and Manuel through his lashes. "Saunas get me hot in more ways than one."

*Good choice, Fox,* Ethan thought. *If this has to happen, neither of these two will be able to hide a weapon while we're all buck-naked. I just hope that we don't end up having to run for the chopper in that state. It wouldn't be the first time I've escaped a bad situation nude, but it damn sure isn't my preference. And the entrance to the gym isn't too far from the hall where I left the gun and info.* "Sounds like a fine idea to me." He kissed Fox on the cheek. "I love ya when yer slippery, Danny."

Olivero smiled. "A most appealing thought. Manuel," he said, putting a hand on the shoulders of Ethan and Fox, steering them toward the door, "bring supplies." He paused at the door. "Plenty of them. We must celebrate the consummation of our joining."

Montana's tone was suggestive, and Ethan shot a look at Fox. Olivero was a little behind them, unable to see their faces, but Ethan saw Fox's expression stiffen. It only lasted a second, then he relaxed into the slightly ironic expression he had worn most of the time since this charade had begun. The look Manuel gave them as he headed upstairs was anything but pleasant. Lately his mask of genial subservience was beginning to slip, and that worried Ethan almost as much as Olivero's more obvious predilection.

As they entered the gym, Mulder headed directly for the handball court. As he put his hand on the doorknob, Olivero caught his arm. "Danny--the sauna."

"Well, you don't get the full effect unless you've worked up a nice sweat." Olivero's eyebrows lowered a fraction, and Mulder said quickly, "Connor got to try himself against Manuel, and I'd like my chance. I think I'd have a bit of an advantage, with my height, and..."

"Later, Danny, later." Olivero ran his free hand down Mulder's back, letting it rest just about the curve of his buttocks. "There will be time. You will be here a while, yes?"

Mulder reluctantly let his hand drop. *Till seven, you psycho.* "Yes, I suppose that's so." He allowed himself to be manuevered into the locker area, careful not to look at Ethan, whose green eyes were darkening toward black.

He had intended to undress as slowly as possible, perhaps drawing things out with a strip tease, but he didn't get the chance. Olivero reached for Mulder's shirt as soon as they were in the room, unbuttoning it with a swift deftness that Mulder would not have expected from such large hands. Those hands seemed meant for nothing more delicate than snapping a man's neck. Mulder felt a shakiness creeping up on him, but he managed to keep it out of his voice, saying, "Slow down a little, big man. First thing, if you rip that, you pay for it. Secondly..." Olivero had paused, hands still gripping the edges of the now open shirt, and Fox lightly laid his hands over Olivero's. "I am not in the mood for fast and furious. As you pointed out, we have time, and I'd like to fill it."

Olivero smiled, heat flaring in his eyes as he began to use the material to pull Mulder closer. "More than time will be filled tonight, Chico."

*I am going to kill the fucker,* Ethan thought coldly. *If there is the slightest excuse, I'm going to kill him.*

Manuel was in the master bathroom, attending to his assigned chore, muttering angrily to himself in Spanish. Normally he had no problem with performing any humble task that his master set for him, even perversely relishing the more menial and degrading ones, but Olivero's obvious favor for the languid Southerner was like gall. *The others have never bothered me, but they were disposable. I knew he would use them and toss them away, but this one...*

He emptied tiny guest soaps from a wicker basket on the bathroom counter, and opened the cabinet. There were dozens of assorted boxes of condoms, various lubricants, and other supplies. One could not simply run to the store for fresh supplies here in the jungle, and it was part of Manuel's job to be sure there was always a plentiful stock. He began to open boxes, emptying the individually wrapped condoms into the basket. Olivero wouldn't want to waste time fumbling with packaging, so the prophylactics would be presented like a basket of party favors.

Once he had several dozen condoms, he started grabbing bottles and tubes of lubricants--plain and flavored, simple and refined. Olivero would want a wide choice. *He will fuck this Ballard as many times as his flesh allows tonight, then he will try to have Galbraith extend their stay as long as possible. The longer they stay, the greater his obsession will grow.* He shook his head unconsciously. *He will want to keep Danny.*

Manuel was well versed in what Olivero wanted when this type of opportunity arose, and he was careful to include the special items he needed. He would have to arrange the basket just so to be sure that Danny or Connor did not see them too soon, and get spooked.

He started out of the bathroom, and halted just inside the bedroom, his eyes narrowing in consideration. *Senor Galbraith will not suffer that. Olivero would have little reservation about killing him--if it would secure his 'Duncan'. Things can get very... confused. I have seen my master when the frenzy comes upon him. It is entirely possible that he would not be able to restrain himself, if Danny fought too strongly--and if Danny were to see his lover killed...*

He reached back into the bathroom and plucked a hand towel from the bar near the door, then walked to the dresser. He emptied the basket, then slid open the top drawer and moved aside a stack of linen. He reached in and removed a sheathed knife. Manuel unsnapped the strap and slid the knife from the sheath. The blade was nine inches long, slightly curved. He thought of the times he'd watched Olivero spend long minutes honing it, his master's eyes taking on the fixed stare that warned him to step softly. He remembered watching Olivero use the blade, how quickly it could draw blood with only the faintest pressure, how quickly the clean slices became messy with blood.

Manuel held it up and examined it closely, watching the light glint along the hair-fine edge. He ran his eyes critically over the weapon, wondering if a laboratory would be able to find a trace of blood. True, Olivero was meticulous about cleaning his 'tools', but this had been used so often and so well, and modern science had made great strides.

Manuel opened the towel, lining the basket. He gently lowered the knife into the basket, then lapped the terrycloth over it, and piled the condoms and lubricants on top of it. He picked up the basket and turned toward the hall, smiling cruelly. As he headed for the stairs he murmured, "Just in case, my master. Just in case."

Fox forced himself to remain still as Olivero bent to kiss him. He wasn't at all sure he'd be able to endure what was coming without showing some evidence of his reluctance, but it would be disastrous to show it too soon. Still, he kept his lips closed as Olivero's mouth descended on his own. *I may acquiesce, but I'm damn sure not going to be eager about it. Danny wouldn't, and I won't, either.*

Olivero wasn't going to give up easily, though. He pressed, his mouth moving on Mulder's, tongue probing. Mulder didn't give in till Montana nipped at his lips, then he parted them. He rested his hands on Olivero's arms, but didn't join in the kiss--he just allowed it. Olivero didn't seem to notice his lack of activity. After a thorough exploration he drew back a little, and smiled. "You're looking thoughtful again," said Mulder. "What are you thinking of?"

"About the first kiss--how you tasted of chocolate and peppers."

"What? There weren't any peppers in the Shepherd's Pie, and we didn't have..."

Montana slid Mulder's shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. "I'm sorry, Chico. I'm afraid I'm intoxicated, and I am likely to make little sense tonight."

"Maybe we ought to delay things a bit," said Ethan, his tone a little flat. "After all, Olivero, as you said, we have time. Sleep off the wine ya had with dinner, and tomorrow..."

"You mistake me, friend Connor," Olivero dropped the shirt and reached for Mulder's belt. "It is not the wine that makes me feel drunk, but this little one, and the only cure for this befuddlement will be to drown myself."

Mulder stood numbly as Olivero opened his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. Olivero dragged the zipper down slowly, the faint rasp loud in the tiled room, and moved his hand into the gap. Mulder's eyes closed as he felt the big hand cup over his genitals, squeezing lightly. *Oh, damn. I've never felt less turned on in my life, but if I stay limp, he's going to get angry, and maybe suspicious.* He started to pray that his will would be able to override his body, and mind's, reluctance.

It truly was uncanny how in sync Ethan and Fox's minds were. Hunt sensed what Mulder was worrying about, and moved to help him allay any suspicion. He came up behind Fox, looping one hand loosely around his neck, and the other around his waist, beginning to rub small circles on his bare belly. He whispered in his ear, "It's all right, Danny, love. It's all good. Just relax, me darlin'. I'm here."

Olivero didn't speak, or frown, but his eyes were hot with more than passion. Manuel, entering with the basket of supplies, saw this at once, and his hope flared, but Montana only pulled down Ballard's pants and underwear, stripping him completely. He took Mulder's chin in his hand and kissed him firmly, showing that Connor's show of possession wouldn't deter him, then he stepped back and began stripping also. Ethan was reluctant to release Mulder, but he had to hurry and remove his clothes, lest Olivero hustle Mulder into the sauna before he could accompany them. Manuel joined him, and soon all four men were nude.

They didn't bother with the towels this time, and Manuel again carried the basket as they entered the sauna. The room was already thick with steam. *Shit,* Ethan thought. *This reminds me of pea-soup fog,* He looked at Olivero, guiding Mulder to a bench. *With its own Jack the Ripper lurking. They never caught that bastard. I don't want this one to escape, and I'm not sure that screwing up his reputation and leaving him to be taken down by the cartels is enough. He might survive.* As much as Olivero might need to be killed for past crimes, Ethan was not by nature cold-blooded. He'd never just out-and-out assassinated anyone--he hadn't lied to Mulder about that. *But if he hurts him...*

Olivero put his hands on Mulder's shoulders, pushing him down to sit on the bench. His touch was very firm, but it didn't cross over into force. He slid his hands up to rest on either side of Mulder's throat, and Ethan tensed, but then he moved to thread his fingers through Mulder's hair.

Duncan looked up at Olivero, hazel eyes darkened, moving from gold toward brown. He didn't remember that from before. Had his Chico changed so much in the years they had been apart? Then Duncan's eyes dropped, fixing on Olivero's thickening cock, and he bit his lower lip almost unconsciously. No, not so changed.

*I'm going to have to do it,* Mulder thought with resigned dismay. *We've reached that point where something always interrupts--on TV. That isn't going to happen, and I'd better be convincing. I'd better show him a good time, if I don't want him to get suspicious.*

Fox reached out and settled his hands on Olivero's hips. The tall man's crotch was exactly at face level. The FBI agent mentally took a deep breath, then leaned forward and rubbed his face against de la Montana's half-hard cock. Olivero murmured softly as he felt the faint, sandpaper rasp of his Duncan's lightly stubbled cheeks. "Si, usted ha crecido, mi Chico. Pero usted sigue siendo muy dulce--todavia mi amor."

As Mulder rubbed his lips delicately against Olivero's awakening shaft, he thought with apprehension, *He's slipping further. We've presented Connor and Daniel as not knowing Spanish, but anyone who even watched I Love Lucy knows what mi amor means. He's saying that to me while Danny's lover, his occasionally jealous and violent lover, is not three feet away.*

"Your voice is like honey," breathed Olivero. "Show me that your tongue can do other sweet things."

Steeling himself, Mulder slid one hand under the soft weight of Olivero's scrotum, and used the other to cradle the big man's awakening prick, lifting it slightly. He put out his tongue and flicked it against the pink, heart-shaped head, tracing the vertical slit. Olivero inhaled sharply, his hands tightening in Mulder's hair. "Teasing is nice--a little teasing." There was a subtle warning in his voice, and Mulder heeded it. The next pass, he made a full lick, then swirled his tongue around the glans, like a child eating an ice cream cone. Olivero made sounds of approval, his cock lengthening and thickening quickly under the soft, moist touch.

Ethan could feel his teeth gritting together as he watched, but he made an effort of will and managed to look interested instead of enraged. He felt a slick hand grip his cock and looked over at Manuel. He was just laying aside a tube, and Ethan realized that the boy had liberally greased his hand before beginning to fondle him. Manuel smiled--or more accurately smirked. "Senor Connor, how can you remain like this--still soft," he nodded toward the other couple, "when two such beautiful men are together?"

"I worry about my boy--you know that."

"Si, but Olivero will take care of Danny." He began to pump Ethan's still flaccid cock, squeezing gently. "He will take good care of him, I assure you. Now, relax, and think of nothing but the pleasure I can give you."

As Manuel masturbated Ethan, Olivero had gotten enough of the preliminaries. He held the sides of Mulder's head and pushed his hips forward. Mulder didn't dare try to deny him entrance, and the Columbian's cockhead slipped between his lips. Olivero seemed inclined to push deeper, but Mulder tightened his grip on Montana's hips and began to suck strongly on the wedge of flesh in his mouth. The pleasure was great enough to make Olivero pause to enjoy it.

*He tastes different from Ethan,* thought Mulder. *It's not as bad as I might've expected. Knowing what he's done, I would have expected the taste of rotten meat--but he's bitter. Can't let that stop me.* He slid his fingers up and pulled gently, sliding the foreskin down. He fluttered his tongue, letting it find the faint groove that ran up the underside of the glans, then tracing it. This coaxed out a thick ooze of pre-come--oily and vaguely sickening. He'd loved this with Ethan, but now all he wanted to do was jerk away, brush his teeth, and then gargle with antiseptic.

Ethan closed his eyes. *I'm never gonna get hard if I watch Olivero with Mulder. It might be the hottest fucking show in the world to anyone else, but it makes me feel... lacerated.* He ignored the subdued, wet sounds and forced himself to concentrate on the feel of Manuel's slippery hand. The boy was talented, and he began to get hard.

Manuel whispered, "Much, much better. You are almost ready for me." There was a crinkle, and Ethan felt a thin latex sheath fitted over his erection. Manuel gave him another couple of strokes, then said. "Pardon, Connor, but I must first see that my master has all he needs." There was a shifting sound as Manuel put the basket within Olivero's reach, then returned to Ethan.

Ethan heard Manuel moan softly, and looked over at him curiously. He was in time to see Manuel pull a glistening butt-plug from his anus. He turned and bent at the waist. His buttocks were pale, compared to the olive tone of the rest of his body. He parted his cheeks, and his anus spread slightly, a hint of pink interior showing inside the pale brown ring. In spite of his worry for Fox and his realization of how dangerous Manuel was, he got harder. It was an incredibly erotic sight.

Ethan started to stand up, but Manuel turned enough to stop him. "No, stay there." He gave him a wicked smile and nudged Ethan's thighs apart, then sat on one braced leg, looping his arms around Ethan's neck. His voice light and high, he cooed, "Hola, Tio. Usted tiene un presente para mi?" When Ethan gave him a small frown, Manuel said, "Uncle, I am so glad you are here. You have something for me, yes?" He reached between them, stroking Ethan's hard-on. "Something nice?"

*Uncle? God, how many layers of perversity are there around here? Play along, Hunt.* "Very nice. Have you been good enough to deserve it?" He let his hand slide under, and he probed into Manuel's crack. His finger slid easily into the young man's ass hole, eliciting a hiss and squirm. "What's this?" Ethan said sternly. "Laddie, your hole isn't tight and dry, like it should be." He reached into Manuel's lap with his other hand, gripping the younger man's eager cock, and squeezing roughly. "You've been letting nasty men diddle about with you, haven't you?"

"Please, Tio," Manuel breathed.

"Please be damned!" He pushed hard, shoving his finger deep. "Is this all they've done, boy, or have you had something else up there, eh?" He jerked his hand roughly. "Tell the truth--have you had a cock up your ass?"

"Yes, Tio!" Manuel gasped. "Many cocks."

"Then one more won't matter." Ethan grabbed Manuel around the waist and shifted him, facing him out. When he was in position, Hunt spread the boy's buttocks and pulled him down. He lined his cock up, glans touching the loosened hole, then jerked down hard. He gritted his teeth as he was suddenly engulfed in tight heat, and Manuel yowled excitedly, enjoying the forceful claiming.

There was soft, knowing laughter from Olivero, but he would not allow himself to be distracted long. He pulled free of Duncan's oral embrace, saying hoarsely, "On your back, Chico. I love seeing your face when I fuck you."

Reluctantly Mulder lay on the bench, letting his legs dangle over each side. He watched through lidded eyes as Olivero took a tube of lubricant from the basket and used it to slick both his cock, and the fingers of his right hand. He slipped on a condom, then took hold of Mulder's right ankle, lifting his leg and spreading it outward, so that his anal crease was spread wide.

Manuel rode Ethan smoothly, spitting himself again and again, but Ethan's attention had been once again drawn to the tableau being played out only a few feet away. *Shit, I need to get this over with quickly. Fox may need me.* For the first time in his memory, Ethan set out to come as quickly as he could. He slammed Manuel's slender body up and down on his rigid prick, his arms and shoulders tensing strongly. He fucked brutally, and Manuel screamed in pleasure, his orgasm erupting in a hot, white fountain. A moment later Ethan ground him down tightly and spasmed, grunting his release. He took no pleasure other than the most primal, physical relief.

Manuel swayed forward when Connor released him, smiling vaguely as he felt the hot trickle of liquefied lubricant and a little blood seep down to tickle his slowly unclenching balls. He had finished in time to see his master sink the first finger through Daniel's sphincter. Daniel made a small sound that wasn't quite a gasp, pressing his palms flat over his eyes. *What, you do not enjoy this, Danny? You think you will simply endure? Olivero will not be denied your full attention. You are his Duncan now, and you have many years, and many hurts, to atone for. I will look forward to watching it all.*

Olivero thrust the finger in and out several times, then added a second one. During the brief time between their first encounter and Duncan's first betrayal, Olivero had tried to be gentle with his boy--he tried now, but it had been too long, and too much had happened. He found Duncan's prostate and rubbed roughly, demandingly. He was a man, and his lover would respond to his touch.

Mulder's chest heaved as the stimulated nerve endings sent a totally impersonal burst of pleasurable sensation sizzling through his body. In spite of the pain that the abrupt penetration was causing, in spite of his horror of the man fondling him so intimately, and his hideous vulnerability, his flesh responded, and his cock firmed a little. He prayed it would be enough, because he was pretty sure he'd never get a full hard-on with all this fear and tension, and Olivero's dissatisfaction could only make things worse.

Apparently it was enough. Olivero hooked the other man's right leg up over his left shoulder, in order to free his hand. Then he masturbated Fox roughly as he bunched three fingers together and crammed them home. Fox winced. His voice strained, he said, "Vero, that's enough."

Montana paid no heed. He pumped strongly, twisting his hand to spread the hole even more. "You have to be open, Duncan, otherwise you won't be able to take it all."

Manuel had gone to stand near Mulder's head. "Listen to him. You must relax, or you could be injured."

Ethan had stripped off his rubber and gone to drop it in the wastebasket near the door. He said sourly, "You're all right, Montana, but you're no bloody Gargantua. Quit being so rough on Danny, or I'll call a halt to this." The soft laughter this remark prompted from Manuel chilled his blood. Manuel moved quickly. In a flash he'd grabbed both of Mulder's wrists, jerked them up over the prone man's head, and sat on them, straddling the bench and leaning forward to grip Mulder's arms and press them down. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Olivero was reaching into the basket. "It is merely a precaution, Connor--for his own safety." Olivero pulled something limp and white from the basket. "He mustn't move when I am inside." There was a snapping sound as de la Montana pulled on the latex glove.

Fox stiffened instantly. People had died from rough fisting sessions, rupturing inside, and Montana wasn't likely to be gentle. His body curved in a bow as he simultaneously tried to pull his arms free and brace the foot that was on the floor. "No! I didn't agree to fisting! It's too fucking dangerous, and I'm not into pain."

Ethan had spent a split second thinking that he was about to pass out, because all the oxygen seemed to have been suddenly sucked out of the room. "Montana, you shit! Let go of him!"

Olivero was squirting a copious amount of lube on his clenched fist. "We have an agreement, Galbraith."

"It doesn't include him." Ethan started toward the trio.

Olivero moved quickly. He swung, and a huge, rock-solid fist caught Ethan in the face, knocking him staggering and leaving a gelid smear of lubricant on his cheek. "See what you have done?" said Olivero, almost mildly. "I'll have to change now. I can't risk giving Duncan an infection." He stripped the glove off and reached for another one.

"Montana, I'm not Duncan!" Mulder shouted.

Manuel's grinning face appeared, upside down, as the boy leaned over him. "Do you think it matters now, Chico?" he crooned. "You are Duncan. They were all Duncan."

Mulder tugged frantically, trying to free his arms as Ethan dazedly began to pull himself upright. Manuel had lifted his ass slightly to tilt his weight forward, the better to pin his victim's arms. In his panic Mulder realized that he was feeling coarse hair brushing his palm. Acting on instinct he summoned his strength and abruptly squeezed as hard as he could.

Pain exploded through Manuel as his testicles were compressed, grinding together. He shrieked and jerked, and it gave Mulder just enough slackness. He squeezed again and shoved upward, tipping the boy off. Olivero had been staring in astonishment, the sudden scream ripping away most of the trance he had been under. He started to reach for his Duncan, to punish him for daring to struggle. Mulder jerked his knees back toward his chest, then kicked like a mule.

His heels connected with Montana's chin, snapping him back and causing him to fall. There was a crisp snap as his teeth met, and blood sprayed from his lips as he bit off the tip of his own tongue. Mulder lunged to his feet, intent on getting to Ethan, then getting the hell out of there.

Something snagged his ankle, and he looked down to see a grim-faced Manuel hanging on doggedly, while still clutching at his injured nuts with his other hand. Mulder unhesitatingly stamped on his forearm. Even barefooted he managed to crack bones in the wrist, and Manuel let go with a snarl.

Ethan, on his feet and clear headed again, grabbed Mulder's shoulder and shoved him toward the door. "Run!" He kicked over the bucket of water that was sitting near the room's central pit. The liquid hit the glowing stones and a billowing, blinding cloud of steam filled the room as he slipped out the door.

Choking and nearly blinded, Manuel crawled to the wall, felt carefully, and located a switch. Strong fans roared to life, and the steam quickly began to dissipate as it was sucked out by the powerful ventilation system. He then crawled to where Olivero was just sitting up, propped against a bench. Manuel wailed softly as he saw the blood dripping down Olivero's chin, streaking his broad chest. "Mi corazon!" he moaned. "Usted esta lastimado. Bastardo asqueroso, usted lastimo a mi amante!"

Olivero turned his head and spat a bright gob of blood onto the tiles. His voice was bleak. "Traicionado. El me traiciona otra vez."

"Yes, Vero!"

Olivero watched dully as Manuel reached into the basket, jerking at the towel. Brightly wrapped condoms pattered unnoticed to the floor as he reached into it. When he sat back, he was holding a knife--THE knife, the same one he had used all those years ago, and had used so often in the years since. Manuel laid the knife across his palms and lifted it toward Olivero, like an Aztec priest offering up the still beating heart of a sacrificed warrior. His eyes glinted murderously as he whispered. "Such faithlessness must be punished."

An unholy light kindled in Olivero de la Montana's eyes as he gazed at the blade. He reached out slowly and gripped its hilt, then stood and stalked toward the door. Manuel nodded in vicious satisfaction, preparing to follow him. "My jaguar hunts tonight."