TITLE: Indiscretions

AUTHOR: Belladonna

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters. If I did there would be MUCH more leather and sex.

PAIRING: Doggett/Krycek

RATING: NC 17 PWP

WARNINGS: Ummm… sorta kinda non-con. And, yep, slash. ;-)

SPOILERS: You do know that John Doggett used to be a cop? And that Alex Krycek is a “bad guy”? Well, then, that’s plenty. Other then that, its pretty much smut for my wife.

FEEDBACK: Don't make me beg. belladonna81575@yahoo.com

NOTES: Follow-up to "Black and Blues", but will probably stand just fine on its own. And, once more, thanks to both KimberlyFDR for a beta and to Rachelle for both the idea and the prodding with a sharp stick.

SUMMARY: "Wanna play a game?"

Officer John Doggett unlocked his front door and ducked in. He hated long days filled with paperwork like this one had been. His partner was out on medical leave after catching a bullet in the shoulder. Which meant he was partner-less and left to pick up the doubled paperwork. John was exhausted, and it had been after ten when he had finally finished for the day. He dropped his keys on the hall table, unbuttoning and yanking his uniform shirt off with a tired sigh.

"Not a very professional look, Officer Doggett." The voice was smooth and rough at the same time, like bourbon, and it shivered down John's spine.

The guy sat on John's couch, booted feet propped up on top of the coffee table. All John got was a flash of black clothes and longish dark hair before he had his gun drawn and pointed at him.

"Who the fuck are you?"

A dry laugh escaped the man, showing even white teeth. "I need to speak to you."

"About what?" John took a step closer to the end table and the phone. He'd call his brother cops in if he needed to. Their response time would be fast for another cop.

"About some highly unprofessional behavior."

John slipped the safety off of his gun before he answered. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, who are you, and what the hell are you doing in my place?"

The man smiled again, and it looked predatory and hungry, like a panther. "My name is Alex Krycek, although that's hardly important. And I'm here because there are some things we should discuss."

"Alex Krycek…" John muttered under his breath. He knew that name… something clicked in his head and he remembered. He'd seen that name attached to an FBI wanted posting. Alex Krycek; liar, con man, thief, spy, assassin… the man that John's boss had called the devil incarnate. And he was here, in John's living room. John reached for the phone, intending to go ahead and call 911. He wasn't so stupid as to think he could handle a situation like this on his own. After all, even if Krycek wasn't holding an obvious weapon didn't mean he didn't have several on his person. The posting had been very clear that Alex Krycek only had one real arm, that the other was a prosthetic. But, one arm or not, John had read enough about the man to be wary of him.

And, it appeared, with good reason.

John's attention had barely wavered, his eyes dropping to the keypad on the phone, and Krycek was in motion, quick and sure on his feet. The next thing John knew he was face down over the end table, the phone clattering to the floor, and his arm was wrenched up high behind him.

Krycek kicked John's feet wide apart in a move that every cop knew. It strained John's balance, making it harder for him to fight back. "Now…" Krycek released John's wrist, pining his arms with his heavier body so he could bring the gun up, pressing it against the base of John's neck. "I have something to speak to you about."

"Let me go!" John grunted, struggling under Krycek's weight. John felt his wrist begin to slip free and he jerked hard, twisting his shoulders. The gun hit the desk next to his head with a thud as Krycek yanked John's cuffs off of his belt. He quickly and competently cuffed John's wrists together, never leaving John enough freedom to get loose.

"That was stupid." Krycek's voice was a little breathless as he retrieved the gun. "If you know who I am, then you know I could kill you without a backwards glance." He leaned his weight against John's back again, pressing him into the table. The barrel of the gun caressed the nape of John's neck softly. "You ready to listen now?"

John gave the cuffs another angry tug before he consciously relaxed his tense muscles. "Don't have much choice, do I?"

"Good." Krycek's weight increased for a moment, and then disappeared completely as he stood. John could have been wrong, but for a split second he was sure he'd felt a hard cock pressing against his ass. Krycek stepped around the table, fanning out some color eight by tens. It took John a second to make sense of the jumble of colors and images.

Once the photos jumped into focus John was shocked. They were all of him; all taken at night. John, in dark jeans, a black tee and leather jacket, dancing with a blond boy who looked barely old enough to drive. John leaning against a wall in an alley, the same blond boy on his knees, sucking John's cock. John fucking a dark-haired man over the hood of a car, his hand fisted in the guy's hair. John, either coming out of or entering a door painted bright red, the neon sign clearly visible in the photo. 'Red Velvet.' A club. No, more than that. It was a gay sex club, and that was appallingly clear in the half dozen or so photos on the top of the sheaf of glossies.

"Like I said, Officer Doggett, not very professional behavior from one of the NYPD's finest." Krycek had leaned forward, his breath brushing John's ear as he spoke.

"How… how did you get these?" John could hear the shake in his voice, and he was disgusted with himself for it.

"I like to keep an eye on things; especially on people I find interesting." Krycek's hand slid down the length of John's spine, the gun rasping against the cotton of his white tee shirt. He stopped when his hand met John's bound ones, but not for long. "And I've developed a… special interest in a man I saw in a club. You, Officer Doggett." Krycek's hand dropped to John's ass, squeezing lightly.

John started, his whole body jerking into the table. "What're you gonna do with the pictures?"

Krycek released John's ass to gently touch one of the photos. "Well… I could always turn them over to Lieutenant Wilson." Krycek's leather-covered fingertip caressed the still image of John in the top photo. John's head was thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted and he fucked the blond kid's mouth. "I think that he might find these interesting."

"I… I didn't break any laws." John tried to make his voice hard, hoping to brazen his way out of the situation.

"No?" A low laugh escaped Krycek. "This kid…" Krycek tapped the photo of the blond, on his knees, lips wrapped around John's cock, "Is about fifteen." Krycek leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Can you spell 'felony'?"

"Jesus." John muttered, closing his eyes to try to block out the photos. It wasn't exactly impossible to be gay in the NYPD, but those individuals who chose to be open about it never advanced; never got promotions or commendations. Especially when their supervisors were assholes like Rick Wilson. The man was an uptight good ole' boy, and he and John had already had some problems. But if Krycek was telling the truth; and that kid was only fifteen… John would lose his job, his career, and he'd probably end up in jail; not a pleasant prospect for a cop. "What do you want? Money?"

"No, not money." John hadn't opened his eyes, but he could almost hear the grin on Krycek's sharp-planed face.

"Then what?"

"I want you."

That got John's attention, and his eyes snapped open in alarm. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Krycek was smiling; and the smile was predatory and feral; dangerous looking, his teeth bared like an animal's. "I wanna fuck you."

"No fucking way!" John managed to get his feet under him and stood, struggling to get around Krycek and to the phone, or the door. Krycek let him get moving, and then he grabbed the short chain connecting the cuffs. He used John's momentum against him, sending him facedown against the desk in the corner of the room.

John fought hard, kicking and trying to head-butt Krycek, but he stopped with a whimper as Krycek's large hand closed over John's cock, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to John's eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" John's voice was panicked and breathless as he struggled to force the words through his tight throat.

"Because I want you," Krycek answered matter-of-factly. "I get what I want; you, and you get what you need; the photos." Krycek squeezed a little harder to make his point, wringing a whimper form John's throat.

"How do I know that you won't show up in a week or a month with more pictures and try this again?"

"You don't." The two words were simple and to the point, and John shuddered under the cold logic of them. Krycek was right. If John ever hoped to keep his job and make detective he had to give into this. All of his life John had served his country, first as a Marine, now as a cop. He honestly didn't know which was worse, losing all that, or being at this man's beck and call for as long as Krycek wanted him. After less then a minute, John made his decision. He couldn’t give up the job he loved, needed, and was good at. He just couldn't.

"Whatever you want." John's voice was barely audible, but it seemed to echo through his bones. "Just don't turn those pictures into the NYPD or anyone else." John felt his shoulders slump forward in defeat. John just couldn't see any other way out of this that ended with him as a cop.

"I'm glad that we could reach an agreement." Krycek's voice was even huskier then before, and John could clearly feel the other man's hard cock against his ass. Krycek's weight lifted for a moment and John heard the lock on the front door click closed. He just squeezed his eyes tightly shut and waited for it to be over.

The hand slowly unfastening his pants startled John, as did the gentle way the blue uniform pants and his boxers were pulled down. And when Krycek's leather covered hand slid along John's bare hips to his ass, the other man's fingers were trembling.

John startled again when he felt Krycek's hot breath ghost across the base of his spine. Krycek touched just the tip of his tongue to John's tailbone, dragging it down into the cleft of his ass. He couldn't stop the low groan at the intensity of the feeling. It had been a couple of months since John had last been to the club, and no matter how his mind felt about this act; his body was beginning to enjoy it.

Krycek seemed to realize that, wrapping his gloved hand around John's hardening cock at the same time he swiped his tongue across John's hole. John's hips pushed back into the feeling uncontrollably, wanting Krycek's tongue deeper. Krycek obliged him, pointing his tongue and thrusting it into John's body, alternating with slow wet licks. Within minutes John's cock was hard and leaking, and both men were panting.

Krycek released John's cock after one last squeeze and replaced his tongue with his fingers, damp with John's pre-come. John couldn't stop the groan of complaint when Krycek withdrew, but it quickly turned into a strangled moan as the other man's damp fingers nudged his aching hole.

It didn't matter what he told himself, that this was rape, that any touch on his cock would feel good; none of it made any difference. John's body wanted this, recognized it on some primal level. John had spent years in dark corners, fucking men's mouths and their asses. Being in control of those men. Now, against his will, this man was making himself John's master. And his body didn't want to fight it. His body understood things that his mind wasn't ready to accept.

Krycek roughly thrust a finger into John, as if he couldn't wait any longer. John arched back into the touch, his nerve endings struggling to make sense of the mix of pleasure and pain; disgust and desire. The finger moved again, gently this time, thrusting, rubbing across John's prostate.

"Yesss…." John hissed, his body taking over and burying John's concerns under the rush of lust. This time, when his hips pushed back into the feeling, he didn't even try to fight it.

One finger became two; stretching John's body beyond anything he'd felt before. The leather of Krycek's glove was rough and silk-smooth, and it rubbed across his newly awakened and sensitized skin. A half dozen more thrusts and John was moaning and pushing back to meet Krycek's hand.

Krycek's hand withdrew, only to press back into John's body before his mouth could even form a complaint. Three fingers moved into him this time, and for a moment John feared he'd break in half. The burning wasn't quite pain, but it certainly wasn't pleasure either. It made John whimper in confusion. Then Krycek's fingers rotated; and the steady pressure against his prostate made John moan, his whole body focusing on the overwhelming feeling.

John could feel Krycek's panting breaths on his neck as the other man rose and pressed closer, moving his hand deeper into John's body. Krycek moaned into John's ear every time John pushed back into his thrusting hand.

"Please…" John whispered; his voice breaking as his head fell forward, forehead pressing against the desk. "Please!"

"Please, what?" Krycek punctuated his question with a thrust that was deep and hard enough to make John's knees go weak, and a breathless whimper to force itself out of his throat.

"I need…" John was gasping now, the words lost in-between hoarse moans. His body knew exactly what it wanted and needed, but some tiny part of John that was still rational fought it.

"What?" Krycek murmured into the skin of John's neck, pulling his hand back so only the tips of his fingers remained in John's aching body. When John tried to press back into the teasing fingers, Krycek held him still with his heavier body. "Tell me what you want." His voice was breathless as well, but it was steady, and John dimly realized that Krycek was still in control of himself, even now. John couldn't begin to fight this.

And when Krycek thrust forward hard with his hand, shoving John's cock into the desktop, John lost all semblance of control. "Fuck me… please!" John could barely recognize the desperate pleading voice as his own. But it was. Andy part of John that had the barest chance of remaining rational had been banished by that last hard thrust. John hadn't ever felt anything like this before, and he couldn't deny the pleasure.

Krycek moved behind him, gently withdrawing his fingers and unfastening his own pants. The first shock of skin on skin was intense and scary and exhilarating all at once. But when Krycek's hard cock nudged John's stretched hole panic suddenly took over. John struggled, trying to get free of the weight of Krycek's body, panic lending strength to his muscles. Behind him Krycek cursed, his hand scrambling to get hold of John's hip or shoulder or bound hands. After a short scuffle, Krycek finally got his hand wrapped in the chain linking John's wrists and yanked hard, pulling John's body back into his. Krycek was still hard, and that scared John even more. John threw his head back and felt the back of his skull connect with Krycek's jaw hard enough to daze John a little. The restraining hand fell away, and John had nearly reached the discarded gun before Krycek was on him again.

"Jesus." Krycek panted out, slamming John hard into the desktop, knocking the breath out of him. "What the fuck was that for?" John twisted his head to look at Krycek, drawn to the thin stream of blood running from the corner of Krycek's lush mouth.

"I…" John gulped in air quickly, his ribs aching from Krycek's weight. "I've never…"

"Shit." Krycek whispered, his forehead pressing high on John's cotton covered back. "I didn't know."

"Would it have made a difference?" John cringed at the sound of his voice. He'd intended the words to be cutting, but instead they were pleading.

A leather-covered hand stroked slowly, comfortingly through John's hair. "Of course it would have."

Before John even had a chance to speak Krycek was mouthing the side of his sweaty neck, his hand sliding down to cradle John's half-erect cock. The leather was warm and close around him and Krycek began to move. As Krycek's teeth barely nipped at John's throat, he moved his hand, stroking John's cock slowly.

It didn’t take long for John's body to take over control again, and he found himself moving against the thrusts, fucking the other man's fist. He could still feel Krycek's cock against his ass, but the panic had collapsed under a haze of lust and need. John's body wanted this.

Krycek released John's cock after one last thrust, his hand coming back around to cup John's ass. His thumb slowly stroked down the cleft, tickling lightly across his hole. "I won't hurt you,” Krycek murmured into the curve of John's throat. "Just relax and let me…" The husky voice slid down John's spine like honey, warm and thick, and making him shudder in reaction. "Let me." The last words were a command as Krycek's fingers pushed back into John's body.

John couldn't fight all of it, not the lust and the pleasure and the heat gathering at the base of his spine. He couldn't fight his own body, so he gave in, his body relaxing around Krycek's thrusting fingers, tense muscles uncoiling under the gentle touch.

In what seemed like seconds, Krycek was pushing into him with three fingers again; smooth and slow. But the sound of his voice, rough and feral and dark, made a mockery of his gentleness. He spoke continuously, coarse words spilling into John's nervous system, setting fires along his spine. "Jesus… you're so fucking hot inside… it makes me wanna fuck you until you come so hard you pass out. I wanna suck your cock; let you fuck my mouth, my throat, until I can barely breathe. I want you to fuck my mouth like you fucked that kid I watched you with. Hard and fast with your hands tight in my hair the whole time." Krycek licked a long, wet path up the back of John's neck and around to nibble on his earlobe. "I wanna fuck your mouth hard… then pull out and come all over your face…" The white even teeth bit down hard enough to ring a shocked gasp from John, between his panting breaths. "I'm gonna do all of it to you… and I'm gonna make you love it."

One last thrust, pressing down steadily on his prostate, made John arch back into the other man. Then Krycek replaced his fingers with his cock, pressing steadily into John's hungry body. John moaned, feeling his body stretch and burn and ache around Krycek's cock. It hurt, but it didn't… it burned and yet felt so amazing that John thought he would die from it.

Krycek moved slowly at first, barely rocking his cock back and forth, giving John a chance to relax and grow used to the stretched feeling. John felt his muscles relax even more, and when Krycek pulled back and thrust again, John whimpered, pushing back into the feeling.

Again and again, Krycek moved, each thrust getting harder and deeper. His cock rubbed across John's prostate, setting off sparks behind his eyes. "Yes…" John hissed, his cuffed hands grabbing at Krycek's flat stomach, his nails scraping and raising welts. John couldn't move, couldn't brace himself; he could barely even push back into the thrusts. All he could do was lay there and take it; feeling every inch of Krycek's cock rubbing across his stretched muscles and then moving in him. Claiming John's body for his own.

And Krycek was right; he made John love it.

John was so focused on the new feelings, and on how much he unexpectedly loved them, that his orgasm seemed sudden. All the feelings were building, and then it was like his nervous system overloaded, and John came with a barely contained scream.

Behind him, Krycek growled, the sound feral and frightening, and his hips snapped forward once, then twice, pushing through John's tightening muscles. John felt Krycek come, felt the nearly unbearable heat of his semen inside of him.

When Krycek collapsed forward onto John's limp body, he was breathing heavily, his hips still moving restlessly, gliding his softening cock through his come to press against John's sensitive tissues

"Fuck,” Krycek muttered indistinctly into John's sweaty hair.

John nodded as much as he was able to, eyes still closed. That about covered his thoughts on the subject, even if he wasn’t capable of an answer right now. John simply lay boneless on the desk, feeling his lover’s welcome weight pressing down into him. It didn’t matter how much planning and thought went into one of these evenings of “play”, Alex always made them even more incredible than John could ever imagine.

Alex recovered fairly quickly, pulling himself upright with a groan. He squeezed John's shoulder tightly before slowly pulling out of his body. John hissed in reaction, the small pain snapping all of his nerve endings back to life. He ached all over, but his primary concern was his shoulders, pinned behind his back in the cuffs. The easily ignorable ache had started to become serious pain thanks to Alex's weight, and John shifted his shoulders with a groan.

Alex laid his leather-covered hand heavily on the back of John's neck, squeezing lightly. The hand lifted, then John's hands were free of the cuffs. He rotated his shoulders forward with a half muffled curse, his jaw tense.

"Sorry, Johnny, I didn’t think…"

"It's alright, Alex." John turned to face the man behind him, his eyes taking in the clenched jaw. He pressed his lips to Alex's gently, tugging the other man into an embrace. "Really. It was exactly what I wanted."

Alex's good hand came up to massage John's shoulders. "You think so?"

"Hell yeah,” John muttered into the leather of Alex's jacket. "It was perfect."

"Good." Warm lips were pressed to the side of John's forehead before Alex took a step back. "You're wiped out. Let's go upstairs and get cleaned up."

John smiled at his lover, reaching out to link one of his hands with Alex's good one. He pulled him into a chaste kiss before nodding.

After John had tugged on a pair of waiting sweatpants, they headed upstairs. Alex followed behind John, muttering barely audible comments. "Jesus, look at that ass… gonna fucking kill me… damn police blues… how could he look so hot in them? Cop and criminal… is that better or worse then cop and rent-boy? Damn… that ass…"

John hid his smile, turning to face Alex at the top of the stairs. "You know… if you didn't look so hot in leather you wouldn't always have to be the criminal."

His comment startled a laugh out of Alex, lighting up his face and making his green eyes sparkle. "I don't mind playing the bad guy. Especially if it means you get to wear…" Alex's good hand closed around John's wrist, covering the narrow band of pale red marks. "The cuffs."

With a wicked smile, John twisted his hand until he held Alex's. "Why don't you tell me all about how I look in those cuffs…" He tugged Alex into the bedroom and pushed the door shut on the world.

Back to Black and Blues