Interrogation V:
Testing the Limits

Orithain and Nicole S.

December 1998

Disclaimer: They don't belong to us, they belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox. Please don't sue us.

Commandant Krycek was entering his fourth week of walking down this corridor to Lt. Mulder's cell. He was sick of this prison, sick of the people, sick of this war. He wanted Lt. Mulder out of here and in his quarters so he could see him, touch him, whenever he wanted, not just for an hour a day. He had a plan, but it had taken a week of dropping hints to get the wheels slowly turning. It would not be easy. Now it was all a matter of convincing his superiors that Mulder should be released. He had to convince them that it would be easier to keep an eye on Mulder and try to extract information from him if he was working for Krycek directly in his house.

Krycek reached the door and waited for the guard to open it for him before stepping through. It shut behind him with the familiar clang.

Mulder was crying when Krycek entered his cell. Sobbing, actually. Krycek's eyes narrowed What have those idiots done to him now? He thought of the guards and their incompetence of late. Maybe they will like the Eastern Front better than here.

He sat down beside Mulder who was shackled to his cot. "What is it? What is the matter?" Before he could stop himself, his gloved hand reached out and stroked Mulder's hair.

"It hurts. It hurts so much."

"What hurts?"

"My ankle. They shackled my ankle."

Krycek pulled the blanket back revealing Mulder's swollen, almost purple ankle. They had really done a job on it, possibly re-broken it. Krycek's face grew red. Those stupid guards! Eastern Front - they're going to fucking Siberia! He stood up, ready to go out the door and scream at them, when a thought crossed his mind. He sat back down beside Mulder, his anger subsiding for a second as he leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Lt. Mulder, I want to take you out of this place. How would you like that?"

Mulder nodded, the tears still flowing.

"I need you to endure that shackle for another hour or so, do you think you can do that?"

"It hurts so much," Mulder sobbed.

"I am going to bring two men back with me. I need you to be quiet, not say one word no matter what happens or what I say. After they come here, then we will be able to leave if you do exactly as I've told you." He turned Mulder's head so his gaze met his own. "Not one word. They will shoot you if you speak. But if you trust me and remain silent, I will be able to take you out of here and bring you to live in my home."

"I'll be quiet."

"Good. Now, stop crying and I will see you soon."

Krycek rearranged the blanket over Mulder again before leaving the cell. He strode past the guards, who stood at attention and saluted as he went by. He returned their salute then went out the door. Idioten. You'd better pray you get shot before the cold kills you. Siberia can be a very hard place to tolerate.

An hour later, Krycek returned to Mulder's cell with two other men, just as he said. A wave of fear washed over him as he saw their faces, the hatred burning in their eyes. One of them was a short man with a pointy nose and dark hair. The other was tall and broad, with glasses. The man with the glasses licked his lips as he looked at him. Mulder stopped a shiver that was about to run up his spine. He wanted out of here and would do anything to help Krycek. He kept his promise and said nothing as Krycek started speaking about him.

"This is Lt. Mulder, United States Air Force. He has been with us for a month now, enjoying our usual 'hospitality'. Still, he refuses to give us any information. It is clear that by the time he speaks, anything he knows will be long out of date. It is pointless to keep him here any longer. I would say he's ready to be transferred immediately."

The man with the pointy nose spoke. "He has given nothing, Krycek? Your reputation has suffered a blow with this one." He grabbed the corner of the blanket and tossed it aside. "He still has a lot of meat on his bones. He will work out fine at one of the Stalags; he looks strong."

"Those idiots!" Krycek bellowed.

"What? What is the problem?" the man with the glasses asked.

"His ankle. He twisted it over a week ago. I told those stupid guards not to shackle it so he could heal properly and be sent to a camp. Look at it! Gangrene will set in soon, it will probably have to be amputated. He is useless now."

"I agree." The pointy-nosed man took out his gun and held it to Mulder's head. "We do not need him anymore."

Panic washed through Mulder as he felt the barrel of the gun press into his skin. He didn't want to die this way, chained, helpless. He started breathing heavily, only the memory of Krycek telling him to trust him keeping him silent.

"Put the gun down, Spender," Krycek said, remaining calm. "I meant he is useless in a camp. I will take him."

Spender looked at Krycek suspiciously before putting his gun away.

"What do you mean you will take him?" the man in the glasses said.

"As I have been telling you for the past week, I need a new servant. Lt. Mulder can still hobble around and serve me." He took the men aside and lowered his voice. "I have surely broken this man, yet he remains mute. If I can get him to trust me, perhaps he will reveal his secrets. If he opens up to me, it will seem like he is talking to a friend, not an enemy."

The man with the glasses smiled. "Very clever, Krycek, I can see your point. If he does not open up, then you can just shoot him, like you did your other servants."

Spender laughed, "Krycek, you have to learn to be more patient with your staff; you cannot keep killing them when they displease you. Instead of sending the Jewish vermin to the camps, we should just give them to you as servants. They would die just as quickly." He and the tall man laughed at the joke.

"How many groundspeople have you been through? Six, or seven?" The man in the glasses grinned.

"Three. This fourth one is not any better."

"Are you sure you want this American dog, Krycek? We can send him to one of the KZ camps and dispose of him quickly and quietly. No one will know if he is American, Jew, Pole or Czech."

"No. I can use him. I am sure that he will tell me his secrets soon enough. If not me, then one of my other staff. You know how servants gossip."

"Very well, you may take this Mulder to your house. I would keep an eye on him though; don't let him out of your sight for too long." The man in the glasses took another look at Mulder before turning away.

Mulder watched as the three men left the cell together. He breathed a sigh of relief, thanking god they were gone and he was still alive. A moment later, Krycek returned with a bundle of clothes and a crutch.

"Lt. Mulder, you will come to live with me now," Krycek said as he unshackled him from the cot. "Here, put these on quickly so we can get out of here." He laid the bundle of clothes on the cot beside Mulder.

Mulder's ankle was throbbing so badly he didn't know how he was going to walk. Quickly, he put on the garments Krycek gave him. They were thin cotton pants and a shirt, not unlike pajamas. Only one boot fit; the other could not fit over the swelling in his foot, so he covered it with the sock only.

Krycek gave him the crutch to put under his armpit since he wouldn't be able to help Mulder at all when anyone else could see them. He glanced at the blanket but left it lying on the cot, saying "I'm sorry I can't let you take the blanket to keep warm. It's very cold out, but it would be noticed if I allowed you that." Then Krycek put his hands on Mulder's shoulders and met his gaze. "Lt. Mulder, you are still my prisoner, and I must treat you as such. Do not say one word until we get to my house, do you understand? Your life depends on it."

"Yes," Mulder barely whispered.

Krycek smiled, "Good. Let's go."

They managed to get to Krycek's house with limited trouble from the checkpoints. When the young guards at the roadblocks saw who Krycek was, they immediately waved him through, ignoring the passenger beside him.

They turned into a driveway of a sprawling house, where a flag bearing the swastika hung over the front door and flapped in the wind. Snow was piled high around the house, but the driveway and stairs leading up to the house were clear. A maid, bundled against the cold, came out of the house to greet Krycek.

"Ingrid, this is Mulder. He is going to be working here as my new assistant. Please help him up to the master bathroom. He is quite dirty. His ankle has been injured, so make allowances for his slowness."

"I can see that, Herr Oberst. Come with me, let's get you cleaned up." Mulder kept his mouth shut as he was led away by the burly maid.

Krycek went in the front door and practically flew up the stairs to his study. It worked, it fucking worked! He had waited almost two weeks to get him here, now finally they could be alone. He took his leather coat and hat off and hung them up before going over to his desk to check what had come in the post. There was a knock on the door.


"Oberst Krycek, the American is in the bath. I have left some clothes for him."

"Thank you, Ingrid. I would like everyone to leave us alone for a few hours. I need to go over a few things with Mulder, tell him the rules of the house, what his duties will be and how he will be punished if he does not perform properly. I would like to have supper in here about seven. For both of us. I do not want to stop his training for a meal. We shall talk and eat at the same time."

"Yes, sir." Ingrid turned and left.

Krycek read the one piece of correspondence, then decided to check in on his new servant. A smile passed over Krycek's lips as he walked down the hall to his bedroom. There was a door leading to the master bath off of the bedroom, so he would not be seen. He locked the door to the bedroom before going towards the door leading to the bath. Slowly he opened the door and looked inside. Mulder was lounging in the bathtub, a look of contentment on his face. He is beautiful, even more so when he is relaxed. Krycek took a step into the room.

Mulder sat up with a start and looked fearfully at the person who entered the room. Had they come to take him back to prison? He knew this was too good to be true.

"Calm down, Mulder," Krycek said. He walked over to the door leading to the hallway and locked it from the inside. He also did the same to the door leading to the bedroom, which he then leaned back against. "Are you enjoying your bath?"

"Yes," Mulder barely whispered.

"It's all right, you can talk. You are in my home now."

"I didn't realize how dirty I was." Mulder said as he looked down in embarrassment at the dark gray water in the tub. How had Krycek been able to stand to touch him?

"Yes, well it has been awhile, hasn't it? Why don't you drain the tub and wash again. The water has surely cooled by now."

Mulder looked at the man standing before him. Such a change from the prison. The riding crop was gone, and although the fierceness in his eyes was still there, so was a gentleness. He pulled the plug, watching as the dirty water swirled out and down the drain.

He turned the tap on to refill the tub, but Krycek reached over and turned it off. "Here, soap yourself up first." Krycek handed Mulder a bar of sweet-smelling soap which he used to lather his body and hair. Krycek then filled a large pitcher with water and poured it over Mulder's head, rinsing the soap away. He did this until the water rinsed clean. Then Krycek put the plug back in the tub and filled it again with hot water.

Krycek removed his clothes, draping them over a chair that was in the corner of the large bathroom. The window in the bathroom was covered by a heavy black curtain, so the only light was a warm glow that came from the light fixture above. He got in behind Mulder and ran his legs down the length of the large tub. He pulled Mulder back against him and wrapped his arms around him.

"I have waited a long time for this," Krycek said as he kissed Mulder's shoulder. The warmth of the water and closeness of the other man set his cock in motion, his erection starting to jut into Mulder's buttocks. He held Mulder tighter, relishing the sensation of their wet, naked skin against each other.

Mulder leaned back against Krycek and closed his eyes. He had also missed this, human contact without guards or shackles or cold cement floors. He settled in for a few minutes, his head against Krycek's shoulder.

"I want you to wash me," Krycek said with kiss to the top of Mulder's head.

Mulder opened his eyes and sat up, then turned himself around to face Krycek.

"There is a sponge in a basin behind you; use it to wash me." Krycek's eyes were burning a bright green, full of lust.

Mulder took the sponge and held it in the water to wet and soften it before leaning forward and gently running it down Krycek's chest and belly, down to the hardness visible below the water. His heart was starting to pound, and his own cock was growing erect. He ran the sponge down the strong legs and back up again to where he started on his chest. He paid particular attention to the stiff nipples, stroking them with the nubby sponge until Krycek gasped in pleasure, then moved on. While Mulder was washing Krycek's arms, he noticed he was shaking.

Krycek knelt in the tub, eye to eye with Mulder. He reached out and smoothed the lock of hair back that had fallen onto his forehead. He then leaned in and kissed him, tenderly. Mulder's lips were soft and full, his tongue slid past them easily, tasting the other man. He brought an arm around Mulder's waist, the other going around his back, his hand pushing the two of them closer together.

Mulder gasped as Krycek pulled away and started kissing down his neck. He was still shaking; the feel of this man being gentle with him was almost too much to bear.

"Yes, I've been waiting a long time to get you alone," Krycek whispered before latching onto one of Mulder's nipples. He nibbled around the areola before licking and sucking on the hardening nub. Slowly he moved across to Mulder's other nipple and proceeded to bring that one to hardness as well.

Mulder moaned and leaned back in the tub, Krycek leaning with him. He hadn't felt tenderness in so long, he'd almost forgotten how good it was.

"Sit on the edge of the tub," Krycek commanded, softly.

Mulder slowly maneuvered himself up to sit on the thin ledge of the tub. He put his hands down beside his buttocks to steady himself.

Krycek knelt in the cooling water of the bath and spread Mulder's legs to reveal his dripping, throbbing erection. He looked up at Mulder's eyes, where the pupils were dilated so much that a thin rim of blue-green was the only thing that could be seen.

Mulder was breathing hard, the anticipation of knowing what was coming next shooting another load of precum to glisten at the top of his cock. His nails dug into the side of the tub as Krycek's tongue slowly licked around the head of his cock. A moan escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes.

Krycek ran his tongue down the length of Mulder's cock to his balls. He pressed his face between Mulder's legs, sucking the drops of water dripping from the heavy sac.

Mulder whimpered and gripped the tub harder, his knuckles showing white.

Krycek took Mulder's cock in his mouth, something he hadn't done since the first time they were together in Mulder's cell. The day he first raped him. This was not rape. Not now. Now it was a need for someone to be close to, to touch, for simple human contact in the midst of all the suffering that this war brought everyone.

Mulder tried in vain to hold on, but after a few minutes of Krycek licking and sucking him, he came with a cry into his mouth. His knees felt weak as Krycek lapped up the last of the come, sitting back to stare at Mulder with a grin on his face. Mulder slid down into the water again before leaning over to kiss the German on the mouth.

"You liked that, hmmm? Too bad we do not have time for more right now."

"What do you mean?"

"We have been in here for a long time. We have turned into prunes!" Krycek held up his hand and showed Mulder his wrinkled fingers, then smiled. "Come, all things must come to an end."

Krycek stood, then got out of the bath. He dried himself off before donning a dressing gown. He then turned to Mulder and extended his hand to help him out of the tub. He gave Mulder a towel and watched him dry himself off before offering him a dressing gown of his own.

Mulder put it on. It was silk and so soft, the softest thing he had ever felt in his life.

Krycek unlocked the door to the bedroom and came back to help Mulder with his crutch. Together they moved Mulder to a large, overstuffed chair in the bedroom.

"Let's take a look at your ankle, shall we?" Krycek knelt before Mulder and took the battered limb into his hands. He probed the injured joint carefully, pleased that it was healing well despite the acts of those fools at the prison. The shackle had not disturbed the setting bones. He looked up into the American's eyes before he started to wrap the ankle in a thick bandage. "This will help it heal straight, so you will not have a permanent limp."

Mulder was silent as he watched the bandage being wrapped around his foot and ankle then half way up his calf. Krycek knew what he was doing; Mulder had learned that same procedure in his training as well. Wasn't it funny how they were on opposite sides of a war, yet their training was so similar?

Krycek finished, stood up and went over to a table in the corner. He returned with a small tablet and glass of water. He held them out to Mulder.

"Here, take this."

"What is it?"

"It's called penicillin. For your ankle, to fight infection."

Mulder took the small white pill and looked at it for a second before looking back at Krycek.

"It's all right, take it. It's medicine. You have to take them for a week until I am sure your ankle is not infected." He reached out and stroked Mulder's cheek. "It's medicine, please take it. I would not give you anything that would hurt you."

Mulder popped the pill in his mouth before washing it down with a sip of water.

"Why are you being so nice to me? Why didn't you let your friend kill me today?"

Krycek looked at Mulder for a few seconds before answering. "I needed a servant and you needed someone to serve."

Mulder gave a small laugh but said nothing.

Krycek looked at Mulder. He knew he could see right through him. Dependent or not, Mulder was not a stupid man. "Are you thirsty?"


"Are you hungry?"


"Mulder, even though you are technically my prisoner, this is my home. If you want something, ask."

"I'm hungry and I'm tired."

"You will have a proper supper tonight, with me. I do not want you to fraternize too much with the other servants right away until they get used to you. A lot of them do not like Americans and would be tempted to do you harm. You will stay here, on this floor, with me, to work with me, until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear?"


"Good. Now, I need to get dressed and attend to some matters before supper. There are clothes for you on the chair in the washroom. There is also a razor for you to shave with, unless you want to keep the beard."

Mulder reached up and touched the hair on his face. He hadn't realized that he had grew one, but after a month of not shaving, it was obvious. "No, I should get rid of it."

"It does not really suit you, I am sorry to say. There is a jar of salve in there for you as well, to put on your wounds from the shackles. It is Ingrid's grandmother's secret cream. It smells awful, but it works."

Mulder shrugged and pulled the robe around him a little closer. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now hurry, supper will be in my study very soon. It is just down the hallway, I will leave the door open for you." Then Krycek turned to get dressed.

Mulder hobbled on his crutch to the bathroom and up to the mirror. This was the first time he had seen himself in a month. His eyes were still hazel, his hair longer, a little grayer. His face sported a beard which, as Krycek said, did not suit him at all. It was so overwhelming, looking at this stranger in the mirror. How did he get here, to this place, to this house on the outskirts of Berlin? He shook his head, then lathered up his face with the brush and soap that were left for him.

After Mulder was done shaving, he rubbed the soothing salve into his wounds. It didn't smell that bad. Then he got dressed and followed the way Krycek had gone, through the bedroom and down the hallway. His ankle was feeling much better now from the medicine and bandage. He could hobble a little faster. He found the open door and walked through it. Here was a library full of books, a large desk and table with six chairs around it. The table had been set for dinner for two.

Krycek was sitting behind the heavy desk, speaking into the telephone. His voice was low and his brow furrowed. He looked up at Mulder for a second, watching him inspect the books in the bookcases that lined the wall. Krycek softly put the telephone handset into the cradle and rubbed his forehead. He got out of his chair and walked over to Mulder. "There are some English books there as well, if you are interested."

"Most of them are in German."

Krycek laughed, "We are still in Germany, Lt. Mulder. You had better get used to this place, you will be spending a lot of time here."

Mulder looked up at Krycek, a question in his eyes.

"You are my assistant, this is my office. I need you to make sure this place is kept clean and in order. Seeing as though you cannot read German, the filing will have to be done by myself. I do, however, want you to make sure my correspondence is ready for me when I get home. The desk should be neat, the ink in my pen refilled, paper always ready. Is that clear?"


Krycek smiled. "Good."

Mulder heard someone come in and turned quickly, his heart pounding. It was only Ingrid and another girl with supper.

Silently, the women began to unload their trays onto the large table. Roast chicken, potatoes, pickled beets, cabbage and turnips. Mulder closed his mouth and swallowed. The smell of the food was heavenly.

"Come, Mulder, sit and eat." Krycek motioned to the table.

Mulder sat across from Krycek, who was motioning him to fill his plate.

"Would you like some wine?"


"Yes, it is Italian. There is quite a well stocked wine cellar in this house."

"Sure." Mulder watched as the dark burgundy liquid filled the crystal glass before him.

"It is good. Come, eat, you said you were hungry." Krycek looked over at Mulder who seemed bewildered by the bounty laid before them.

"Where did you get all this food?"

Krycek finished pouring the wine and began filling his own plate before he spoke. "My rank affords me some luxuries. One of them being good food. The other being this house, the servants, the car. Just as in your military, rank decrees worth."

Mulder put a piece of chicken in his mouth. It was heavenly. Moist and tender, seasoned with rosemary. He closed his eyes and savored the taste. When he opened them, he was looking directly at Krycek, his own eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"I am glad you like it. Ingrid is an accomplished cook."

They ate in silence, drinking the wine. Mulder relished every bite, every sip, he hadn't had food like this in a long time. It was almost sexual, certainly sensual, his cock stirred and started pressing against the wool trousers he was wearing.

Ingrid came back with coffee and cleared their plates. She left two plates containing a piece of cake each in front of them.

"Eat the Streuselkuchen, it's quite wonderful." Krycek handed Mulder a china cup filled with strong coffee.

"Whose house is this?" Mulder asked as Krycek put a forkful of cake in his mouth.

Krycek swallowed before answering. "It is my house."

"Who had it before you did? Who owned it? Before the war?"

"I do not know, it was seized property. When I came to Berlin last year it was given to me. The Reich owns it, the Reich owns everything." Krycek continued to eat his cake.

"You stole it. You probably stole it from a Jewish family and killed them, right? None of this is yours, it's someone else's. They probably worked very hard to acquire this wealth, and you stole it from them. What do you have against them, anyway? They're just people who happen to have a different religion."

"I did not steal anything." Krycek put his fork down and glared at Mulder. "You are treading on very thin ice, Lt. Mulder. Need I remind you that you are still a prisoner of the Third Reich? I can have you back in that jail, or worse a camp, with one telephone call. I'm sure your comments would be extremely popular with the guards."

Mulder's eyes grew wide; his respiration and pulse quickened. Then his eyes dropped to the table. Please, don't let him send me away, let me stay here with him.

Kryek's voice remained low, yet hard as steel. "You do not understand, Lt. Mulder. My country is at war. Depending on what side you are on, you either lose or gain. If this war was in your United States, you would do the same thing. Now. I do not want you to talk of this again. It is foolish and dangerous; I could and should shoot you for just saying the words you did."

Krycek reached across the table and put his fingers under Mulder's chin. He tilted the other man's head up, seeing the tears in his eyes. "Do I make myself clear? Never speak to anyone about this subject again."

Mulder nodded his head. Silently they finished their cake and coffee, the taste now bitter in Mulder's mouth.

Krycek looked across the table at the American. He certainly looked miserable. Krycek would never send him back to prison, but he should not be asking such questions. Questions no one dared to ask.

"You are tired. I will show you to your room."

Together they walked down the hallway to a door, not far from the door leading to Krycek's room. Mulder limped along beside Krycek on his crutch. This was a small bedroom with a small bed, chest of drawers and wardrobe to make it cozy and warm. A small rug was on the wooden floor beside the bed. A night table stood beside the bed with a small lamp and a ticking alarm clock upon it.

Krycek motioned to the chest of drawers and wardrobe. "There are clothes for you in here to wear. This door, here," Krycek opened a narrow door to the right, "leads to your own WC. You may bathe in my bathroom, but only when I tell you to. Do not go in there on your own, is that clear?"

"Yes." Mulder peered into the small room that contained a toilet and sink. The razor, shaving brush, soap and jar of salve had been moved from the other bathroom to here and rested on a shelf above the sink. A small mirror was above the shelf.

"Good. Now what else? Ah yes, please leave the curtains drawn at all times. You do not want to get bombed by your own colleagues, do you, Lieutenant?" Krycek gave a short laugh before opening another door, this time to the left.

"This leads to my room. You are my assistant, my valet, that is why you have the small room off of mine. In the morning, you shall wake first, shave and get dressed, then come wake me. I must be up at precisely 6 a.m. While I shave, you are to lay my clothes out for me to wear." Krycek opened a huge wardrobe at the side of the room. "It's pretty straight-forward. The uniform never changes. I do, however, want them cleaned and pressed the day before."

Mulder nodded at Krycek when he looked over at him. The contents of the wardrobe were nearly pure black. Black uniforms, black coats, black boots, black everywhere, offset by silver medals and decorations. This was highlighted by the harsh contrast of the stark white shirts, crisp and clean. The red of the swastika armband was the only color in the sea of black and white.

"Now. You must polish my boots every day. I have three pairs, and they must be immaculate."

Mulder shuddered at the words, remembering the duties he performed in prison.

Krycek came over to Mulder, put a hand on his shoulder and met his gaze. "There is a polishing kit in the bottom drawer of your wardrobe. There are also other items to help you with your job there. Do not worry, Lt. Mulder, you are here to work."

Krycek took his hand away, went back to the wardrobe and closed the door.

"Now. You said you were tired, go to sleep, and I will see you in the morning."

Mulder turned to limp through the door to his little room. He shut the door behind him and breathed out. His knees were shaking. He sat on the bed, calming himself before getting undressed. He found a pair of soft, cotton pajamas in one of the drawers. He climbed into bed, relishing the soft sheets and soft quilt that was upon it. Such luxury from a cot with a scratchy wool blanket. Ensuring his alarm was set, he turned off the light and went to sleep.

The next morning, Mulder did what he was told, and got Krycek ready. Silently, he dressed him, then Krycek left, leaving Mulder feeling empty and alone. Throughout the day, Mulder busied himself by making minor repairs to Krycek's uniforms and shuffling some papers in the study. Ingrid brought breakfast and lunch up to his little room. She did not reply when Mulder said, "Thank you."

Krycek did not have such a good day. He sighed to himself as he sat in the back of his car, the driver taking him home. Things were not going well at all. The Americans were advancing from the west, the Russians from the east. Italy was a lost cause. It was going to be over, and over soon. Krycek didn't want to be caught when either side rolled into town. Especially the Russians. His name was notorious throughout their ranks for his exploits through Poland and the Czech Republic. How many Russians had he killed with his own hands? That wasn't important right now. Getting out of Germany, that was important. He had met a man today who could get him on a boat to South America. It would cost an enormous amount of money, but that was not important either. He had to leave. He had nothing to stay for anyway. Germany was his home, but he could learn to love another country just as much. Being alive would help.

Suddenly, his door swung open, and he realized he was home. He got out of the car and walked in the house, where he was met by Ingrid.

"Have supper in my study for us in an hour."

"Yes, sir."

"How was he today? What did he do?"

"He mended your uniforms, polished your boots. He has been in the study for most of the afternoon."

"Good. I want the other staff, particularly Georg to stay away from him. Lt. Mulder is a special case; he needs special care."

"Yes, sir."

Krycek turned and went up the stairs to the study where he found Mulder reading a book.

"Ah, you have found something you like, then?"

Mulder jumped out of his seat, the book falling to the floor. "I, I was waiting for...I didn't know what to do next."

Krycek smiled at Mulder. "You can take my hat and my coat when I come home."

Mulder picked up his crutch and hobbled over to take the heavy, leather coat and black hat from Krycek, hanging the coat in the wardrobe. He took a small brush and brushed the wool of the hat, removing any lint that was there.

Krycek beamed. "You learn quickly, I like that. Now tell me, what were you reading?"

"Dickens. Great Expectations."

"Hmmmm. That book is verboten, but it is in my library." Krycek laughed. "It's a good thing you and I are the only ones who read English in this house."

Krycek settled down in his chair behind the desk and began opening his mail. He noticed how organized everything was. Mulder had done a good job. "You may continue to read your book, Lt. Mulder. There is about an hour or so before supper."

"Thank you." Mulder eased himself into the chair again and picked the book up off the floor.

Silently, both men read, Krycek making a few phone calls. He kept his voice low, knowing the American could not understand German anyway.

Supper was uneventful. They ate, then Krycek put a record on the player, which they listened to until it was time to go to bed.

They walked down the hall together, Mulder leaned on his crutch as they stopped at his door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lt. Mulder."

Mulder shut the door of his little room behind him and got undressed. The pajamas were folded on top of his pillow, where he left them this morning. Everything was neat and tidy. All he did all day was tidy, I'm nothing more than a glorified chamber maid. Then there was a knock on the door that connected his room to Krycek's.

Mulder opened the door to reveal Krycek in his dressing gown. Mulder's heart started to pound as Krycek brushed past him and put a key in the lock to the door leading to the hallway.

Krycek locked the door and gave Mulder the key. "This is your key. Keep it on you at all times. Make sure your door, my door, and the door from the bathroom leading to the hallway are locked every night. We do not want unnecessary disturbances." He then motioned for Mulder to get to work.

Mulder nodded and grabbed his crutch, moving into the rooms, locking the doors. When he got back to the bedroom, he found Krycek waiting for him on the bed, clad in only his robe. Mulder could feel his cock stiffen as he moved tentatively towards the bed.

"Come, Mulder. Join me, here." Krycek patted the mattress beside him.

Mulder climbed up beside the German, noticing his erection tenting the robe.

Krycek reached out and caressed Mulder's face. "I want to make love to you, Lt. Mulder..."


"Fox?" Krycek smiled. "That is your name, I forgot. Mine is Alexander. You may call me Alex, but only here, only when you are in bed with me. It will be Oberst Krycek the rest of the time."

Mulder just nodded. He could feel his cock weeping pre-come onto the fabric of his pajamas.

Krycek brought Mulder in for a kiss, tender lips pressed against his own. He lay Mulder down on the bed, not breaking the kiss, not wanting to lose contact. Finally, he broke away and undid Mulder's pajama top. He removed it quickly then undid the drawstring on the bottoms. He smiled as Mulder gasped when Krycek slowly pulled them down and off. Mulder's cock stood at attention, and a spot of pre-come glistened at the tip. Krycek could not resist and bent down to lap the fluid up with the tip of his tongue. His hand reached up to caress Mulder's chest.

Mulder arched his back into Krycek's touch and moaned. Once again the tenderness overwhelmed him. Suddenly, the tongue and hand left him. Mulder opened his eyes to see Krycek removing his robe, his cock jutting out before him.

Krycek lay down beside Mulder and caressed his face again before bringing their lips together. Krycek's tongue slid past Mulder's lips, tasting the warm interior before leaving and snaking a trail down his jaw to his neck.

Mulder sighed as Krycek licked a trail down Mulder's neck and stopped at his collarbone.

Krycek positioned himself so their erections rubbed together, the smooth skin sliding across each other. He bent his head down and sucked on one of Mulder's nipples, biting and nipping at the perimeter. His hand went up to tease the other, bringing it to hardness.

Mulder moved his hands across Krycek's back, feeling the taut muscles underneath. He gasped for breath when Krycek bit down gently on his left nipple. This felt so good, so good. Nothing else mattered but them right now, not the war, nothing.

Krycek's mouth kissed and licked down the remainder of Mulder's body, pausing to tease his navel for a minute. He pressed his face into Mulder's belly, the fine hairs like silk under his cheek. He continued his journey until he reached the brown curls at Mulder's groin. They smelled of his musk and arousal. Krycek nuzzled Mulder's erection with his chin before licking up and down the shaft.

Mulder was shaking again. He had never felt this good before, so protected. He twisted the sheets in his hands as he felt Krycek's mouth engulf his cock.

Krycek sucked on Mulder's cock for a minute before pulling back, teasing the slit in the top with his tongue. The other man shivered under him as he swirled his tongue around and over the head again and again. He then snaked his tongue down to Mulder's balls, taking them in his mouth, sucking on the fragile skin.

"Oh, yes, yes, oh Alex," Mulder whispered.

Mulder was quaking with emotion. No one had ever done this to him before. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, or both at the same time. He felt Krycek pull off his balls and instinctively brought his knees up so Krycek could gain better access for what he knew would happen next. A moan of pure ecstasy left Mulder's lips as Krycek's tongue teased the opening to his ass. He nearly shrieked when the tongue pushed inside.

Laughing, Krycek sat up and looked down at his lover. "You liked that? There is more to come, my beautiful Fox."

Krycek reached over to the tin of lubricant that he had placed on the night table beforehand. He scooped a small amount up with his fingers and placed them against Mulder's puckered opening.

Mulder sighed and spread his legs wider. The fingers slid in easily, caressing his prostate, bringing him harder, making him moan again and again.

Krycek removed his fingers, gaining a whimper from the man writhing on the bed. He coated his cock liberally with the thick petroleum jelly before moving between Mulder's legs. Slowly he entered into Mulder, gently imbedding himself into the hot channel. Once he was fully inside Mulder, he leaned over and captured a long kiss from him.

Mulder watched as Krycek pulled back from the kiss. Desire showed in his eyes, not hate and hurt. He closed his eyes as Krycek wrapped his arms around him and started moving in and out of him. Mulder wrapped his legs around Alex, joining them together in a double embrace.

Krycek slowly pumped in and out of Mulder. He never knew this would feel so good, so different. He felt something for this other man, this American. It was not quite love, but a need.

Mulder peppered Krycek's shoulders with kisses as he felt him slide in and out of him with ease. This was not rough sex, this was gentle lovemaking.

Krycek started to pump faster, he unwound himself from Mulder, stealing a kiss before he sat back on his knees. He gathered Mulder's hips in his hands and started thrusting into the other man, his eyes closed, head back, moans escaping his lips.

"My Fox. You belong to me, mein schoener Fox."

Mulder also closed his eyes as Krycek slammed into him, he opened them when he felt one of Krycek's hands close around his cock. It didn't take long before Mulder shot long streams of come out and onto his own chest.

Krycek opened his mouth and let out a long moan as he came, thrusting a few more times to milk his cock. He collapsed on top of Mulder, his chest heaving. He then rolled to the side and looked at his companion. "Why don't you get something to clean us up?"

Mulder froze. Did he want him to lick them clean? Panic swept through Mulder but subsided as Krycek spoke again.

"There should be towels in the bathroom."

Mulder let out a sigh of relief as he rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. A minute later, he came back with a damp towel and wiped them both off, paying special attention to removing the lubricant.. When he was finished, he climbed back into bed and into Krycek's arms, where he dozed for awhile. Suddenly, a hand was shaking him awake.

"Come, Mulder wake up. They cannot find you here. You have to go to your own bed."

Mulder propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Krycek. "The doors are locked."

Krycek shook his head. "If I get an urgent call in the middle of the night, I do not want them to find us like this." He reached out and stroked Mulder's chin. "I am sorry."

Mulder got out of Krycek's bed and put his pajamas back on before returning to his own room, shutting the door behind him. He got into his own bed, checked the clock, then fell asleep.

He could hear screaming...screaming, he was screaming. No, he wasn't screaming, but someone else was screaming. Mulder sat bolt upright in bed. It was Krycek. Mulder's heart pounded as he opened the adjoining door and turned on one of the lamps. Krycek was thrashing about on the bed.

Mulder reached over and shook Krycek's shoulder. "Wake up, you're having a nightmare." "Trudi! No, not my Trudi!" Suddenly Krycek was awake and realized where he was. Sobs wracked his body and tears started to flow from his eyes as he remembered the dream.

Mulder bit his lower lip then sat on the bed beside Krycek. He reached over and stroked his short, dark hair "What is it?"

Krycek grabbed onto Mulder and held him tight, the only sounds coming from his mouth at that moment were sobs of pain.

Mulder brought his legs up on the bed and wrapped his arms around Krycek. He began rocking him, kissing the top of his head. He had never seen him so vulnerable, so scared. Krycek was always the man to be feared, the man in charge. Finally, Krycek's sobs subsided, and he began to calm down.

Krycek felt Mulder's strong arms around him and held on to him tighter. Whenever he had this nightmare alone, he would shake for hours, his knees drawn up to his chest, shivering under a mountain of blankets.

Mulder kissed the top of Krycek's head again and continued to stroke his hair. "Who's Trudi?"

Krycek took a deep breath and let it out shakily, then sat up. Tear tracks stained his cheeks, his nose was red and his cheeks puffy.

Mulder leaned back against the pillows and motioned for Krycek to come into his embrace. Krycek laid his head on Mulder's chest, feeling the warmth of the other man's body beneath him.

"Trudi is...was my daughter." Krycek took another breath before continuing. "At the start of the war, I lived in a small town on the border with Poland called Danzig. I was running the family business that my father had left me the year before. I had gone to University to learn business, graduating five years before. I was married and had a daughter. I went to Berlin on business for a week and while I was there, heard of the fighting along the Polish border. I got the first train out of Berlin and rushed home as fast as I could..."

Krycek started to cry again. Mulder rocked him in his arms and caressed him until he calmed down again.

"When I got home, I found it was gone. Everything was gone. The Polish cavalry had swept in and destroyed most of the town. By the time I arrived, the German army had come in to push the Poles back. There were bodies everywhere. I ran to where my home was and saw it burnt to the ground. Everything Gretchen and I had worked for was destroyed. And my little Trudi...her small body was under there, somewhere. When we finally found her, she was so battered, so..." Krycek broke away again and sobbed into Mulder's chest. "She was only four years old."

A tear slid down Mulder's cheek as he listened to Krycek tell his story. He remembered how his own father had been killed a few years ago, his ship sunk by a German U-Boat. His mother had gone mad soon after that, retreating into her own world where no one could reach her, the death of his father bringing back all the pain from his sister's death when he was eleven, from polio. He closed his eyes and held Krycek tighter, both men lost in their grief.

Krycek had calmed down enough to resume his story. "I buried them together, Mother and Daughter, at peace with each other. Then I joined the army. I wanted to get even, to show them that they could not stop me. I wanted revenge and I got it, over and over again. Now it's..." Krycek bit his tongue, no, he could not tell this American everything, it was too dangerous. He sighed, it was if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, to confess his feelings to someone. Krycek felt warm and aroused; Mulder was kissing his shoulder. Krycek moved up to face him and kissed him on the lips.

Mulder returned the kiss and rolled them over so Krycek was underneath him. He moved down the other man's body, for the first time realizing he was naked. He licked the flat, brown nipples, gaining a sigh from Krycek. Down he went, further until he reached his hard erection. Gently, Mulder pulled the foreskin back and put his mouth on the soft skin, moving down, engulfing him with his mouth. He sucked hard and strong, bringing Krycek off quickly, ensuring to lap up the last drops of come.

He moved up and kissed Krycek on the mouth, his tongue entering, sharing the taste. He smiled at the German and caressed his face once more. "I have to go."

Krycek swallowed. "Yes, you should go," he whispered. He wanted Mulder to stay the night with him and hold him in his arms, but he knew the dangers of such things. Reluctantly, he let him go, watching as Mulder went out the adjoining door which closed behind him.

The next few weeks were spent in much the same way. Mulder would take care of the small details while Krycek ran his prison. That's what it looked like to Mulder anyway. In fact, Krycek spent most of the time trying to organize passage for himself to South America. He had to wait until February to actually leave, which did not sit well with him, but he accepted it. He told no one and carried his secret in the pit of his stomach, where it would cause him much painful grief and the inability to eat Ingrid's Sauerbraten.

At night, Krycek would take Mulder to his bed, sweetly exploring his body, bringing him to a higher plain of passion each time they met. Although he sometimes missed the taste of Mulder's blood in his mouth, this tenderness was pleasurable in its own way too. He ached to hold Mulder all night in his arms, to wake with him at his side. It is foolish to think this way, he told himself. They would never be left completely alone.

After the bombing of Berlin, Krycek knew he had to leave Germany and leave very soon. The Allies were everywhere, advancing, yet the Reich was in denial. Things went on as usual despite destruction everywhere. Meetings were held, parties were planned. The Fuehrer held elaborate dinners and receptions in his bunker, as if the Americans or Russians did not exist. Krycek knew Hitler was crazy but didn't say a word. He went along with their stupid ideas to keep himself alive.

When the bombs were falling on Berlin, he and his household staff ran down to the bomb shelter and waited. It was if an earthquake was shaking them. They sat together in the dark room, waiting for the tremors to stop. The young maid was crying, Ingrid praying to Jesus Christ to save them all. Krycek himself trembled, grateful for the pitch blackness of the shelter so his staff would not see that he was scared. How he wanted to reach over and hold Mulder, caress him, tell him it would be all right. It must have been strange for him, hiding from his own Air Force, his friends, hoping he would not get killed by one of his own bombs. He felt Mulder's fingers close over his in the darkness, secure in the knowledge that no one could see them. Krycek knew he should not allow it, but he needed the comfort of Mulder's touch as much as the other man did. He had never liked total darkness. He turned his hand over to clasp Mulder's. They sat like that until the all-clear was signaled.

Now he was on his way home from a day at Headquarters. His prison had been completely destroyed by a bomb, killing most of the prisoners. The only consolation was that the idiot guards were killed as well. A shudder went through him as he thought of Mulder and how if he had still been there, he would have been killed.

Krycek watched as his driver picked his way through the rubble that still remained from the raid over a week ago, turning up roads that were no longer there. He had gotten the word that tonight was the night to leave Berlin for his journey to the coast. A few more hours and it would all be over. He would start a new life, somewhere else.

That afternoon, Mulder was in the study, dusting books when a young man came in. He was stocky, with blonde hair and brown eyes. Mulder had not seen any other staff besides Ingrid and the maid, save for that frantic run to the bomb shelter last week. He didn't know who this was.

"Can I help you?" Mulder said, turning to look at him. His ankle was better now, enough so that he could put shoes on and walk. He did still need the crutch from time to time though when the pain flared up. He also kept the bandage on for support.

"Amerikaner." That was the only word he said. The young man crossed his arms in front of him and glared at Mulder.

Mulder stiffened and watched with fear as the man approached him. Mulder wondered if this was one of the guards that were posted outside the gates to the house. He was certainly old enough to be in the army. Maybe he was a prisoner as well?

"Can I help you?" Mulder said again. The young man was standing right in front of him.

"Amerikaner," the young man said then spat on his shoes. Then he swung and hit Mulder square in the mouth, splitting his lip.

Mulder fell back against the bookcase, his ankle twisting but held in place by the thick bandage. He looked at the other man advancing on him again. Mulder was afraid of what would happen to him if he injured a German, but the blonde seemed determined to hurt him. He was left with no choice and swung at him and caught him on the side of the jaw.

The blonde shook it off and came at him again. Mulder moved out of the way, the blow coming in contact with his shoulder.

"Wait, what are you doing? Who are you?" Mulder looked at the mindless hatred in the young man's eyes. This scared him. It wasn't even really directed at him since the German didn't know him, but that wouldn't stop the young man from killing him. He could see the desire to kill in his eyes. "Who are you?" Mulder asked again.

Another punch came, this time in the kidneys. Mulder slumped to the floor in pain. The man kept punching and kicking Mulder, screaming in German. Mulder put his hands up to try to shield himself from blows, without much success. He had to get out of there, had to defend himself. He clawed at the floor, dragging himself a few inches, trying to get away. The punches and kicks made him groan in pain.

"Please stop, I don't even know you. Stop, I'm begging you." Mulder's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Finally, Mulder's grasping hand came upon something - the crutch. Using all of his strength, he swung the crutch up and hit the young man in the belly, knocking the wind out of him. He smacked him again with the crutch, this time in the head. Adrenaline shot through his veins as Mulder used all his strength to stand and hop out of the room on his good foot.

In a panic, Mulder hopped down the corridor to his room, not daring to look back. His ankle was sore, his sides ached, blood was dripping into his eye. He slammed the door behind him and locked it, then locked the doors to Krycek's room and the bathroom. He cowered in the corner, ready for the younger man to break down his door and continue beating him. Sweat prickled all over his body, and he was shaking. An hour later, when the young man still had not come, Mulder crawled onto his bed, brought his knees up to his chest and started sobbing.

Krycek got home late. He should have just walked; it would have taken the same amount of time. It was nearly dark when he walked into the front door, to be met by a frantic Ingrid.

"Oberst Krycek, there has been an incident."

"What do you mean?"

"Georg got in the house. I saw him coming down the back stairs with blood dripping from a cut in his head. He must have confronted the American. I went up to see if he was well, but his door was locked."

The vein in Krycek's forehead began to throb. He knew he should have never taken that fucking psycho in. Georg had been deemed unfit for the military; he was too violent, even for the Third Reich.. The guards were supposed to keep the back door locked, keep Georg out of the house. He was to do yard maintenance only.

"Where is Georg now?"

"He is in his quarters, behind the house."

"He did not run?"

"Georg is proud of whatever he did to the American."

Krycek took a deep breath, using every ounce of will he had to keep calm, and looked at Ingrid. "I will deal with Georg after I see what has happened to Mulder. In the mean time, prepare supper for us. We will take it in my room."

Ingrid looked at the floor then back up at Krycek. "Herr Oberst, there was no meat today. No milk either. The deliveryman said that the supply lines have been cut off and the Americans are advancing. Is this true?"

Krycek smiled, "Ingrid, you know better than to ask questions like that. The Reich will win this war, I promise you." He put his hand on her shoulder. "As for supper, any food will be good."

Ingrid gave him a weak smile then walked away. Krycek sighed, he knew she was right, but he could not have his staff in a panic, thinking they were losing the war. He shook his head, now he had to find Mulder and see what that idiot Georg had done.

He ran up the stairs to the study. The crutch lay broken on the floor, and a trail of blood led from the room down the hall to the back stairs. His heart began to race. Quickly, he strode down to Mulder's room, frantically dug out his key and unlocked the door. He flung it open to reveal a shivering Mulder, curled up on his bed. He carefully walked over to the trembling man and turned the lamp on. He sucked in his breath when he saw the large cut above his eye, which had bled onto the pillow. Krycek gently untucked, then lifted Mulder's shirt to reveal the bruises that he knew were there.

"Georg," he whispered before taking a deep breath. "Mulder, who did this to you? Who touched you?"

"I don't know. He was a young man with blonde hair and brown eyes...he was wearing a blue shirt..."

It was Georg. "Stay here, do not move."

Krycek stomped out of Mulder's room and down the hallway to the staircase, his leather coat flapping behind him. He flew down the stairs and out the back door to the servant's quarters. He found Georg, in his room, smoking a cigarette. The young man jumped as Krycek kicked the door open. Just as Ingrid said, he had a large cut on the side of his head. His blonde hair was stained red and brown from the drying blood.

Georg stood to greet Krycek when a slap nearly took his head off.

"You are a dead man." Krycek said, his low voice like molten lead coming out of his mouth. "You have touched my property. You have damaged my property."

He grabbed Georg by the hair and dragged him down the hallway and outside to the snow in the back garden.

"But, Oberst Krycek, he is just an American. Just a little Hund."

Krycek smacked Georg again, and the young man fell to his knees. Krycek loomed over him, wishing he had his riding crop with him. No, he was glad he did not. He would not touch this offal with the crop that he had used on Mulder. It was too good for him. Instead, he kicked Georg in the side, watching as pain washed over his face.

"He is mine! He belongs to me! No one else is allowed to..." touch "...beat..." love "...him but me! He is my property!" friend. Krycek punctuated each word with another kick, drawing breathless groans of pain from the man on the ground.

"He is an American Hund! He is schwein!"

Krycek kicked Georg in the side again, watching him writhe in pain. Krycek's face was red, sweat pouring off of him, despite the bitter cold. In a blind rage, he kicked and beat the other man before pulling his pistol and finishing him off. He looked down at the blood darkening the snow in the faint twilight. Had this been daytime, a bright red stain would have been seen spreading out from where the bullet entered George's skull. He stood there for a minute before he realized what he had done. He had killed people before, but it was different now. It had no meaning anymore; it wasn't for a cause, or for the war, it was all for nothing. Georg hadn't even felt his death; Krycek had long since beaten him into unconsciousness. He stared at the body with flat, emotionless eyes. What have I become? Krycek slowly turned and went into the house.

No one was waiting for him inside the house as he shut the heavy door behind him. The staff knew better. When Krycek was in one of his moods, anyone could fall victim to a bullet. He remembered the housekeeper he and his family had had in Danzig. She had teased him when he was too serious and made him cocoa when he came home from a trip. She had been part of their family. How had he gone from that man, one who brought little gifts home from business trips for his housekeeper, to one who killed without feeling anything? Slowly, he made his way upstairs and to his room, throwing his leather coat and hat on a chair before going back to Mulder. He noticed Ingrid had left a tray of various cold foods on his side table. There was a bottle of wine as well.

Mulder was still on his bed, curled up in a little ball. The cut above his eye had stopped bleeding but would bruise and be sore for awhile.

Krycek sat on the edge of Mulder's bed and started caressing his hair. Noticing he still had his gloves on, he took them off. He wanted to touch him with his bare hands. He lay down on the bed beside Mulder and held him close, dry-eyed despite his horror at himself. He wished he could cry; at least then he would know that he was still human, not some kind of monster. This is going to be over soon, no more hurting, no more pain. When I get on that ship, this will all be over.

Mulder turned to face Krycek, his split lip throbbing. He saw the sadness in his companion's eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sick of this. Sick of war, sick of violence and hate."

Mulder just nodded and snuggled into Krycek's shoulder. They lay there, trembling in each other's arms for a long time before Krycek got up.

"Come, let's have a bath. It will help you feel better."

Mulder swung his legs over the sides of the bed. He could stand on both feet, his ankle only hurting a little bit, the bandage having saved him from breaking or spraining it again. He followed Krycek to the bathroom, ensuring to lock all the doors along the way. He stood before him, seeing that his eyes still looked so sad. Mulder reached out and caressed his face, down the stubbled cheeks and to his jaw. He began taking off the iron cross when Krycek's hand came up and ripped it off of his neck, flinging it in a corner, where it landed with a thud and a metallic clang. Mulder did not question his action, instead he kept undressing Krycek, unbuttoning his jacket, then his shirt, removing his tie, taking off his boots and trousers, until he was completely naked.

Mulder stood back and looked at Krycek. He was beautiful. His frame was larger than his own but just as muscular. His thick cock was growing with arousal.

Krycek watched with anticipation as Mulder undressed himself. He needed him, needed to feel him, to touch him. Large bruises covered his torso and buttocks, making Krycek turn away for a second. Tears of rage sprang to his eyes as he saw what Georg had done to his lover. He wished he could kill the bastard again for this. He'd died too quickly, too easily. When Mulder was naked, he reached out and embraced him gently, running his hands over the purple blotched skin.

"I am so sorry. I should have got rid of him a long time ago." Krycek kissed Mulder who winced at the pain in his lip.

"How were you to know?"

"I knew Georg hated Americans; I should have gotten rid of him before I brought you here. I am sorry you were hurt because I did not take adequate precautions. He was unfit for the army, so the Reich sent him to work here." Krycek shook his head in regret. "He must have been watching to see a breach in the guard watch. One of them was killed last week, and his replacement is unreliable, he leaves his post on a regular basis. Georg saw his chance and took it."

Mulder frowned. He didn't like how people hated him because he was American. Couldn't they see that they wanted to help end the war? Although he supposed it was understandable since to do that, they would have to defeat Germany. If someone was trying to beat his country down, he'd probably hate them too.

"Let's not worry about that now. Let's have our bath." Krycek tilted Mulder's head up to meet his gaze then smiled before planting a kiss on his forehead. Despite his headache from the injuries Georg had inflicted on him, Mulder leaned into the kiss, enjoying the comfort of a touch that wasn't intended to hurt him.

Krycek turned the taps on to fill the tub with water. He motioned for Mulder to sit on the chair while he looked at his ankle. Slowly Krycek unwrapped the limb, revealing no new swelling or bruising.

"It looks fine." Krycek took advantage of his position and kissed the inside Mulder's thighs, bringing a sigh from above. Smiling, Krycek stood and turned the taps off above the nearly full tub.

They eased themselves into the water, both men letting out a groan as the hot water enveloped their bodies. As their ritual, one after another they washed each other, the sponge caressing their skin, teasing the sensitive parts. After they were clean, Krycek held Mulder in his arms, nuzzling the back of his head, kissing his shoulders until the water grew cold.

Krycek got out of the tub first, dried himself, put on his robe, then helped Mulder out of the bath. Gently, Krycek dried Mulder, placing kisses on the bruises and scars that marked his body. While the bruises placed there by Georg enraged him, he felt a certain sense of pride that he himself was responsible for all the scars. They showed his ownership of this man, and no one, Mulder included, would ever be able to deny it. When he was satisfied, he led Mulder to the chair in the corner and wrapped his ankle again before bundling him up in a robe of his own.

"Are you hungry?" Krycek smoothed Mulder's hair back.


"Come, let's eat."

They sat at the small table, and Krycek poured the wine while Mulder tried to take a bite of bread. His mouth hurt too much. He put the bread down and settled for a sip of wine instead.

"You have to take small bites, like this." Krycek broke off a small piece of cheese and put it up to Mulder's lips. Mulder's tongue snaked out to take the morsel of food from Krycek's fingers. Krycek grinned and took a tiny piece of bread and dipped it in some blueberry preserves, before holding it up to Mulder's mouth.

Mulder reached out with his tongue and took the sweet tidbit from Krycek's fingers, licking them as he did so.

Bit after bit of food was fed to Mulder this way, Krycek making sure he had a full belly before starting to eat himself. He looked at his lover, who was sitting back in his chair, robe open to his thighs, drinking a glass of wine.

Krycek's cock was tenting his robe, throbbing, wanting the other man. He knew, however, that he had better eat something now because it would probably be a long time before he ate again. After he was full, he moved to the bed, motioning for Mulder to join him. They lay there, Mulder's head on his chest, caressing each other until he could stand it no longer.

Very gently, he kissed Mulder on the mouth, not wanting to reopen the wound placed there by another man, then down his chin and neck. He wrapped his arms around his lover and held on to him, sucking and licking the skin.

Slowly, he moved down to Mulder's nipples. The hardened buds stretched as he pulled on them with his lips and his teeth.

Mulder wove his fingers through Krycek's short hair and let out a moan as his nipples were played with. His cock was aching for this man.

Krycek moved down to Mulder's hardness, lapping up the spot of pre come on the tip. He then lay his head down on Mulder's thigh and closed his eyes. Mulder's smell was intoxicating; it was the smell of pure man and sex. He opened his eyes and kissed the tip of Mulder's penis before moving upwards.

"Love me, Fox." Krycek said as he kissed up Mulder's body to his lips. "I want you to make love to me." Krycek gently kissed Mulder, careful of his cut. If this might be the last time they were together, Krycek wanted to experience everything.

Mulder was pleasantly shocked. The only time he had ever penetrated the German was that day...that horrible day when he had turned the tables and raped him. He couldn't believe that Krycek would allow him to take him after that. But he was thrilled and eager to comply.

Krycek rolled over on his back and caressed Mulder's swollen jaw with the tip of his fingers. "Please, Fox."

Mulder rolled over on top of Krycek and held him for a moment before moving down between his legs. He brought his knees up and moved them apart to get his lover ready. Mulder reached over to the familiar tin of petroleum jelly on the table. He coated two fingers and gently entered them into Krycek, gaining a sigh from him. He worked the fingers around, stretching the hole wider until Krycek was thrusting against them.

"Please Fox, my beautiful Fox, love me."

Mulder slicked up his cock with the jelly and began to enter Krycek very slowly. The tightness of his ass was incredible. Krycek tried to push himself onto Mulder's cock, but Mulder put his hand on his partner's chest to stop him.

"Patience, Alex. I don't want this to be over too soon." Mulder bent down and planted a breath of a kiss on the soft hairs that covered his belly.

Krycek stopped pushing against Mulder's cock. He was right, he wanted this to last forever. Slowly, Mulder entered him, one agonizing inch at a time until he was finally buried inside. Krycek sighed with pleasure at the feeling of fullness. Although he had experimented with other male lovers when he was young, before he married, Mulder was the only man he'd ever allowed inside him. Something about this man just made him want him like he'd never wanted anyone before.

Mulder leaned over and kissed Krycek's belly again before starting to move back and forth inside the hot, tight channel. He leaned over and wrapped Krycek in his arms, while Krycek's legs came around his lower back. So many times they had been in this position, but in reverse.

Krycek kissed Mulder's neck and shoulders, wanting to kiss his mouth, but he knew that he would hurt his lip if he did.

It was as if time had stopped. Mulder thrust into Krycek, moving his hips from side to side, gaining groans and sighs. Krycek's cock was trapped between them, the hardness leaking fluid out of the tip onto both of their bellies. Mulder started to pump faster, his cock hitting Krycek's prostate, making him whimper and mew like a kitten.

Krycek gasped as Mulder leaned up then reached down to grab his cock. He came immediately with a shout, his hands clutching and grasping at Mulder's shoulders, digging his fingers into the fresh bruises.

The pleasure and pain sent Mulder flying over the edge into oblivion. He pumped hard, letting out a cry of joy, milking his cock of his seed. When he could go no further, he collapsed on top of Krycek, moaning again as his cock still shot fluid into his lover.

They stayed joined until Mulder fell out of Krycek with a whimper. Mulder reached over for the towel and cleaned them both up, Krycek peppering whatever flesh he could reach with kisses.

Finally, they came to hold each other in their arms, nuzzling each other, spreading light kisses over shoulders and chests before they dozed off.

Krycek feigned sleep as he felt Mulder brush his lips against his cheek and return to sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. Again he wished that just once they could have spent the entire night together in his bed, holding each other against the bad dreams. But it wasn't to be. When the door was closed between their rooms, Krycek waited a few minutes, then silently got out of bed and got dressed. Civilian clothes under his uniform, leather coat and hat. From behind a hidden panel inside his wardrobe, he pulled out a small bag, packed, ready and waiting for this moment. He checked his pistol and made sure he had plenty of extra bullets along with a spare and the knives he had been so proficient with in his youth. Then he collected the leftover food from the tray and put that in a handkerchief, stuffing it in a side compartment of the bag. It was actually fortunate that they'd had a cold supper. It would travel better and last longer.

He went into Mulder's small room, the pale light from the doorway showing him to be sleeping. Quietly, Krycek walked over and stood over his sleeping lover, watching his chest rise and fall with his breaths. It was time to go. He breathed in deeply then out again before bending over and kissing Mulder on the forehead. A tear slid down his cheek as he turned and left the room for good.


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 & Nicole S.