"Mornin’, Bright Eyes," Mulder mumbled. The sun was already cutting through a gap in the curtains like a knife blade. He scratched his chest abstractly, he hadn’t slept this much since... since he couldn’t remember when. He closed his eyes and yawned deep, and the warm wet kisses started, tracing his cheekbones.

"Eh, Alex, let me go brush my teeth first..."

"Hmm. Good idea. You want I should make some breakfast?"

"No!" Mulder turned sharply.

"What’s wrong?"

Mulder realised that he couldn’t say, not just yet. No need to dump on Krycek this early.

"Nothing. We’ll eat later. Come on." He grabbed Krycek’s hand, dragging him into the bathroom while he used the facilities. Krycek scrubbed his teeth, and made for the shower. Mulder caught him around the waist, "Save it ‘til later," he didn’t want to tell Krycek the sound of the shower would let Skinner know they were up, "You’ll only have to shower again later." He grabbed his own toothbrush, realised Krycek had used it, "Don’t you have your own toothbrush?"

Krycek shook his head, not bothered at all by this oversight. Mulder was vaguely uncomfortable with the vulture like way Krycek watched him brush.

"Don’t you need to take a leak or something."

"I’ll wait."

"For what, the second coming?"

"Until you’re finished."

Mulder rinsed and spat. "You mean, after all we’ve been doing, you won’t pee in front of me?"

Krycek blushed, "No, so hurry up."

"I can wait."

Krycek leaned against him, "If you go, I’ll give you a blow job," he wheedled.

"If you let me watch, I’ll give you one."

Krycek leaned away from him again, he wasn’t sure why this intimacy embarrassed him, but perhaps it was Mulder’s eagerness to corner him like this that made him uncomfortable, rather than the act itself. He folded his arms, prepared to wait.

Mulder leaned forward to whisper in his ear, his hand on Krycek’s abdomen, "How many cokes did you drink last night?" and pressed his fingers neatly over Krycek’s bladder.

"You bastard, Mulder!" Krycek snapped, before finally stepping to the toilet to relieve himself.

Mulder chuckled softly at his victory, before stepping up behind him. He rested his chin on Krycek’s shoulder, pressing his whole length against Krycek’s body, watching the other man pee, before wrapping one hand around Krycek’s shaft.

His skin had that early morning rice paper softness of well satisfied flesh, and he could feel the slight thrumming as Krycek relieved a very over-full bladder.

Krycek sighed softly, letting his head rest back on Mulder’s shoulder. Having Mulder this close was quickly short-circuiting any and all modesty circuits he had.

Mulder shook him very gently, but didn’t let go, as Krycek finished. Instead, he let finger nails trace delicate patterns on the underside of the cock he held.

Mulder was stunned at his own arousal. Although he’d always had a healthy sexual interest, if not sex life, he’d certainly never been this easily aroused, this interested, nor this capable. Maybe Krycek’s comments on possible pheromone interference would bear some investigation... later. Right now the penis in his hand was slowly changing its early morning stiffness from a need to urinate, to a need to ejaculate, and Mulder found himself following suit.

Krycek flushed, leaning forward so that his buttocks pressed back into Mulder, before turning and leading him back into the bedroom, walking backwards, his eyes never leaving Mulder’s face. "I’m still tender from last night..." he hinted he’d like to change their roles this once.

"I’ll kiss it better," Mulder promised, and Krycek couldn’t restrain the slight quiver of anticipation, deciding that any role was going to be a good one.

Krycek crawled back on the bed, while Mulder pushed him onto all fours. He braced himself for another hard fuck, and was pleasantly surprised, when, after spreading Krycek’s knees out, Mulder started to kiss his buttocks instead.

Mulder took Krycek’s cock, pulling it between his legs, and holding it out back from his body like a thick low hung tail. All the juicy bits were in easy eating range like this, and Mulder licked his lips as he had to make a choice, finally settling on Krycek’s balls. He took the soft skin between his lips, manipulating it with his tongue, sucking it to its limits.

Krycek felt almost disconnected from his genitals, his only view was the pillows, he had no contact with Mulder apart from what was happening behind his back, and he reached round to grab Mulder’s thigh, finding some link to the other man.

Mulder’s lips travelled down the length of his penis, eating him like sweet corn on the cob, his tongue busy, getting the entire shaft wet and slippery. He moved back up, trying to swallow Krycek’s balls whole, then back to the tip, humming and kissing the entire length. He took the burning head into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could at the awkward angle. He pulled off, then used his thumbs to pull apart the glans, revealing the bright red slit, before delving the pointed arrow of his tongue into the tiny hole hidden inside.

Krycek whimpered sharply, his whole body starting to tremble, and he buried his head into the pillows.

"Hmmphf," he mumbled into his hands, as Mulder’s tongue wove patterns of magic over the swollen vein pumping blood and lust through the trapped cock.

Mulder took huge biting kisses up and down the shaft, his mouth wrapping around the sides, his tongue never still, changing from wide warm wet swathes, to hard flicking licks. He sucked in Krycek’s balls once more, taking each one into his mouth and pushing it firmly against the rough ridges of his pallet.

Mulder used his fingers to part Krycek’s white buttocks, and noted that his anus was still red, still a little swollen, and made a mental note not to use that toy for so long next time – if they would be given a next time. He kissed the tender flesh softly, feeling it flinch under his lips, and kissed it again. It felt like the hot little ring was kissing him back, like a second mouth.

Mulder stood up, and Krycek rocked forwarded as the contact was lost, his cock swinging back down between his legs. He made a grab for himself, trying to relieve the pressure.

"Don’t," Mulder commanded, and Krycek let go immediately, his eyes never leaving Mulder, waiting for direction.

Mulder grabbed the tube of lubricant, and Krycek dropped his shoulders back to the bed, offering himself. Mulder ignored him, putting one foot onto the bed, every move deliberate as his fingers, loaded with grease, went to his own asshole. He lubricated himself thoroughly, and thoroughly enjoyed the look of shock on Krycek’s face. Are you going to start drooling? Any moment, Krycek, and you’re going to drool. Oh, you want me, don’t you! Mulder couldn’t deny the thrill to his ego of being looked at with such unadulterated lust and wanting.

"Ugh..." Krycek started, full of questions and anticipations.

"Sit up against the bed head," Mulder directed, "Put some pillows behind your back." He wanted to make it clear who was going to be in charge here. No sudden surprises for either of them. It had been a long, long time since Mulder had done this.

Krycek moved to comply, his aching penis bobbing with the swiftness of his compliance. His eyes devoured Mulder, pupils expanded so that only a ring of bright green showed around the black depths. His cheeks glowed pink with arousal, his lips were parted with his panting.

Mulder kept on manipulating himself, making sure he was open and relaxed, making it a show just for Krycek’s benefit. He kept on easing his fingers in and out long past any need, until Krycek was uttering the tiniest whimpers of distressed desire under his panting breaths, his huge eyes closely following every movement.

Mulder didn’t bother lubing Krycek, the man wasn’t going to be able to handle any more stimulation as it was. You’re not going to last long, he thought, grinning. He put the tube back on the side table, and straddled Krycek’s lap. He continued his tease, leaning forward to rub his weeping penis across Krycek’s chest, anointing the tight buds of Krycek’s nipples with a blessing of precum. Mulder trailed the clear moisture down Krycek’s chest, down his abdomen, leaving a tiny pool in his navel, before the hot prodding of Krycek’s penis touched his ass.

A hot flush was spreading across Krycek’s chest, and his hands clutched at Mulder’s thighs spasmodically. His thumbs pressed into the crease where thigh met hip, but he didn’t try to push or force Mulder. His eyes were fixed on Mulder’s face, as if all the answers to all the questions in life were written in that serene countenance.

Mulder reached around, grabbing the thick throbbing shaft, positioning it just so, before lowering himself so slowly. The head pushed at the entrance to his body, scalding in its heat. Krycek’s body was desperate to find its haven, but he stayed perfectly still. Apart from his chest, heaving with desperate breath, he waited, held in Mulder’s thrall.

Mulder took a deep breath, released it. Took another and slowly pushed down. He tensed every muscle, keeping himself rigid as he let his body weight push him down, raising himself on his heels ‘til his back was straight, ‘til Krycek’s glans reformed themselves, sharp and compressed by tight gripping muscle, and pierced Mulder’s body.

Mulder didn’t stop, didn’t give himself time to adjust, didn’t want his body fighting it, but let himself slide down, slowly, inch by inch on the thick shaft of Krycek’s cock.

Krycek started to lean forward, his eyes closed now, face pink with the strain, and Mulder placed his hand over Krycek’s mouth, just in case Krycek found his voice. Krycek’s breath was expelled as if it could only be the last one he would ever draw. There were many breathless seconds until Mulder had taken him fully inside, Mulder’s firm flesh settled on his groin, Mulder’s balls nested comfortably on pubic hair.

Mulder took Krycek’s shoulders and pushed him back against the pillows, thinking that the man may snap with the forced movement.

"Oh, god, Mulder, I’m in you," Krycek gasped, like he was reading Scripture.

"Hmm-mmm," Mulder’s mouth twitched at the reverence in Krycek’s tone. Has anyone loved anyone like you love me? he wondered. Right now, sitting on this man’s lap, this man who may have caused so many deaths, who could be dead tomorrow, Mulder felt more loved, more desired, than he had ever been in his life. Krycek’s eyes opened again, looking up at him with quiet adoration, More than any human has any right to be.

"Mulder?" he asked. It wasn’t a question.

He released the tension again, sliding down, and finally Krycek broke, his hips heaving up to meet Mulder half way.

Krycek froze again, waiting for a reaction; when Mulder kept up his slow, thoughtful movements, Krycek let it happen again. Following that hallowed body with his own. He couldn’t breathe, his brain was going to explode out through his eyeballs, he’d never been so turned on in his life, he thrust up again and their flesh met with a wet slap. Again and Mulder groaned as the head of Krycek’s penis angled straight into his prostate, making him wonder why he’d waited so long to do this, again and Krycek felt he was going to force his entire body into Mulder’s, again and he was coming... too soon not soon enough too soon so wonderful...

"Mulder!" he only whispered it. No breath left for screaming, and he pulsed his life into the other man, gave him everything, promised him everything, signed what was left of his soul over to this other devil.

He cried just a little as his empty and shattered body settled back on the mattress, until Mulder’s lips kissed away the loss.

The last pulses of his climax were spent looking up into Mulder’s face, his hands wrapped around Mulder’s hips, and finally he relaxed. His mind quietly trying to rewire the short circuit, trying to restore some order.

Mulder’s hands were active now, touching himself just as he liked to be touched, putting on a show for his captive lover. Using the feeling of Krycek, still full inside him, to stimulate his climax. It had been so long since he’d felt this, he’d forgotten just how good it could be. Or perhaps he’d deliberately wiped this from his memories, dangerous to want to feel this from another man. But there was so much danger with Krycek anyway, one more risk made no difference whatsoever.

He spread his seed across Krycek’s chest, before falling forward, arching over Krycek as if to shelter him with his own body.

Krycek’s fingers traced white patterns on his own skin, "Mulder, I love you," he whispered to Mulder’s bowed head, "I love you, Mulder."

"I know," and Mulder bent the last inch to silence the confessions with his own lips. Not: ‘I think I love you’, but ‘I love you’. He had to hold back his own sorrow, You sure can pick your timing, Kid.

Krycek’s hands came round to cup his buttocks, very gently lifting him until their bodies separated, and Mulder laid himself over Krycek’s body, revelling in the feeling of strong arms that came around his shoulders. Krycek was whispering sweet nothings to him, cooing like a love struck teenager, and Mulder wished he’d shut up, it hurt to hear this. "Go shower, Alex, I’m going to have to leave soon."

Krycek rolled out from under him, and walked to the ensuite, grinning over his shoulder until Mulder found a smile to give back. Mulder listened to the sounds of shaving and showering from the next room, as he picked out his suit. He chose carefully, an appointment with a senator this afternoon meant no goofy ties.

He took Krycek’s place in the shower, collecting a damp hug on his way in, and Krycek was grabbing jeans and shirt, off to investigate the smells of cooking as Mulder shaved. By the time he went into the main room, Krycek was already eating. Skinner was pouring unused oatmeal mix into a plastic bag, disposing of the remains carefully, like it was radio-active waste.

You couldn’t tell him either, could you? And just for a moment Mulder felt a pang of sympathy for his boss. He went over and ruffled Krycek’s hair. Mulder didn’t feel any need to hide the relationship he shared with the ex-agent, not now that he knew Skinner’s own involvement on that front.

Krycek dropped the bowl, letting the poisoned chalice clatter to the table, stood up, taking a step back from them both, fingertips pressed to his mouth in a gesture of horrified realisation. He looked at Mulder, his expression stricken at Mulder’s guilty look, before slowly sinking to his knees. Before he could hit the ground Skinner stepped behind him, swinging him into his arms. Krycek was unconscious before Skinner had his feet off the floor.

"You must understand, Agent Mulder, this is the safest way to transport him."

"He’s not violent." Mulder wasn’t sure why he protested this course of action, he knew it was the only logical way.

"Not with you, but until he’s deprogrammed he is unpredictable, and if we separate him from you there is every chance he will become violent. He’s only controllable while you’re with him. He’s like a guided missile that’s lost it’s guidance system, but is still carrying a nuclear payload." Skinner moved to the door, "If you’ll excuse me, I have a plane waiting. I can have him there before he regains consciousness."

"Where are you taking him?" Mulder was not surprised at the effortless way Skinner held the other man, even though Krycek was no light-weight.

"It’s better if you don’t know."

"Do they know about... will they be able to control him?"

"I haven’t discussed his ‘special abilities’ with the Director of the organisation who will be looking after him, but she has been informed to be wary of his ‘twin sister’, and that he may need certain specialised handling." Skinner hitched his unconscious burden a little higher, while Mulder opened the door for him, checking the area was clear before accompanying his boss to the car. "Also, they will be observing his behaviour, making assessments for his deprogramming after the trial is complete. I have already discussed this with a number of psychologists who are reasonably certain, considering the heavy handed way he was programmed initially, there is every chance the aberrant behaviours can be removed from his cognitive map."

He blinked furiously, trying to re-moisturise his eyeballs. Least they could have done was shut my eyes, he thought. He didn't want to move just yet, in case they were waiting for him to regain consciousness and hadn’t noticed. A moment to regain full control and assess as much as possible of his surroundings before making an escape attempt was wise. The lights overhead were vaguely familiar, he’d seen their like before, lying on examination tables, paralysed while the samples were taken. While his DNA was examined for manipulation, and replication. Staring at lights and needles and drills, helpless, unable to fight back as the minor surgical operations went on for weeks; months it seemed sometimes. All the little tortures they devised to ‘encourage’ him to show the results of his DNA manipulation.

Learning that the Kindred killed when their DNA tried to change human DNA to their own. The scientists had known that his genetic make-up had been changed, that it wasn’t wholly human anymore, but they hadn’t been able to say for certain that he’d be able to change gender as the Kindred did. He had prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he wouldn’t change when they were watching. He’d been unable to control the changes back then and terrified they’d see if it happened when he couldn’t stop it. If they had found proof positive, he knew he’d be spread out over hundred’s of Petrie dishes and test tubes by now.

Krycek could hear no sound from the room around him to let him know of other people nearby. The gentle throb of an air-conditioner, the creak of the gurney he was strapped to. Faint noises from an adjoining room.