wettshirt.jpg (29769 bytes)For Sue Gilbert and the M/K list who wanted to see Krycek in a wet t shirt. A PWP with no redeeming features whatsoever. No plot, no point, blame it on new Kaluhau with Milk. Milk has a bad effect on me.

Art by Ned & Leny

Disclaimer: disclaim disclaim disclaim. These boys are as much mine as they are anyone else’s, and if Alex Krycek is going to go around in public being wantonly and deliberately gorgeous, he just has to expect this kind of thing.

Wet

by Sarah Bellum

Mulder tore his clothes away, heedless of the expensive suit he was ruining, frantic to pull the fabric away from where it burned his flesh. Desperate to expose his skin to the soothing water of the showers.

Skinner, dressed only in casual clothes to maintain some degree of anonymity during the prisoner transfer, was already naked and rubbing the nullifying foam into the skin of his chest. The sudden tightness in Mulder’s gut caught him off guard - the man was huge! He’d seen Skinner without a shirt before, but again the man’s impressive wing span made his abdomen tighten and his breath catch.

A squeak of distress broke his fixation, "Shit!" he exclaimed, grabbing Krycek by the front of his shirt and dragging him further into the water streams. The chemicals they had been sprayed with were starting to turn the younger man’s skin pink, the mild acid already having its affect. Unable to help himself with his hands cuffed behind his back, Krycek was already starting to hop about as the burn set in, and Mulder let him suffer a few more seconds, admiring Krycek’s nipples through fabric stuck to his lithe body.

Skinner thrust a dispenser of the foam into Mulder’s hands, and proceeded to tear the T shirt from Krycek’s back, "Rub this into his face and hair in case the water isn’t enough. Make sure you don’t forget anything."

Mulder lathered Krycek’s face, rubbing his fingers across long eyelashes, into nasal and aural cavities, making sure there were no traces in his mouth or hair. It had been a long long time since he’d touched Krycek so intimately, way back when they had been friends and partners. Physical memories could not be kept at bay as the short dark hair slid through his fingers, but emotional memories were savagely squashed as Krycek moaned in relief.

Skinner had shucked down Krycek’s jeans, and Mulder watched in disbelief as the AD’s hands were rubbing the foam into Krycek’s buttocks and down his thighs. "Mulder, get his shoes off, and make sure you’ve cleaned your own feet as well as his."

Mulder dropped to his knees, his own breathing speeding up, involuntarily, as he remembered the last time he’d been on his knees in front of Krycek. He got the tightly laced boots off with some difficulty, quickly rubbing foam into Krycek’s feet and toes. He stopped in incredulous surprise at Krycek’s burst of choking giggles.

"Sorry, guys - ticklish," Krycek explained breathlessly, his eyes shining, his skin pink with more than just the chemicals.

//You have no right to be laughing// Mulder thought, ungenerously, annoyed as Krycek wiggled between the two agents, obviously enjoying Mulder’s discomfort. Mulder’s fingers started to rub the foam up Krycek’s strong, muscular legs, making sure no trace of the chemicals remained, while Skinner kept one arm around Krycek’s neck to hold him in place. Skinner was holding Krycek back so hard, his back was almost bowed, pushing his ripe plump genitals into Mulder’s face.

"Remember this, boy?" Skinner’s voice rumbled, and Mulder was horrified when he realised Skinner’s other hand was twisting and probing between Krycek’s buttocks.

He dropped his head, blinking water from his eyes, his mouth open with shock as he watched Skinner’s large fingers exploring Krycek’s anus, two, then three fingers pushing into the firm full buttocks.

Krycek was up on his toes, almost dancing as if he was trying to lift himself away from the invading fingers, but his almost laughing gasps gave away his enjoyment. He was looking down at Mulder, his face alive with teasing joy as he writhed on Skinner’s fingers. Skinner’s expression showed no such enjoyment, he was serious, intent, staring into Mulder’s amazed eyes with a superiority which bordered almost on contempt.

Krycek’s laughter mutated into squeaky ‘ahs’ and Mulder looked down again, lifting Krycek’s balls out of the way so he could watch Skinner’s massive erection disappear into the tight pink ring. Krycek’s thighs were trembling with the strain of accepting the fat shaft. Krycek’s erection, not at all dispirited by the discomfort, twitched and danced by Mulder’s face.

Urged on by the thrill of two other men watching him, Mulder gave in to his own impulses and took Krycek’s entire cock into his mouth in one swallow. The feel of the burning head bumping against the back of his throat sent shivers to his groin. His balls ached and his cock twitched at the thought of being taken like this. An image of Skinner, fully dressed in the AD’s office, kneeling before him, sucking Mulder’s cock flashed in his head. In response he sucked even harder on Krycek, making him writhe and groan.

//This place had better be sound proof// Mulder thought, as Krycek’s whimpers and moans echoed off the tiles, his feet unable to get a purchase on the wet floor, scrabbling for a hold. Skinner stood steady on the wet floor, unperturbed by Krycek’s struggles, moving with easy economical strokes, accepting Mulder’s worshipful performance as his due.

Supported as much by Skinner’s cock up his ass as by the strong arm around his throat, Krycek coughed and gasped his surprise and pleasure, writhing and making it hard for Mulder to keep a grip. Finally Mulder pushed his arms through Krycek’s legs, braced his hands against Skinner’s thighs, holding Krycek’s legs apart with his forearms, and just rode out the man’s abortive thrusts.

Mulder slowly released the impaled man’s cock until just the tip was between his teeth. He gnawed gently, letting sharp teeth drag over the ultra sensitive underside of the crown, letting Krycek feel the implied threat of pain. Krycek squealed - a tone of delight, not fear, and Skinner’s other hand came around, grabbing and crushing Krycek’s balls hard, holding the younger man still while Skinner started to thrust into the tight, red hot channel. The hand on Krycek’s balls diminished his erection somewhat… but only briefly as Krycek swiftly adjusted to the pain.

Mulder worked the uncircumcised crown... letting his lips push the skin back each time Skinner forced Krycek forward. Mulder’s tongue circled the hot spongy head again and again, teasing the slit, before he dived forward again until his nose was buried in sparse pubic hair.

Krycek giggled and writhed, gasping as he was almost asphyxiated by Skinner’s crushing arm, //Stop enjoying this, you bastard. We’re raping you, for crying out loud!!// Mulder thought, swallowing the water that ran down Krycek’s body, along his cock and into Mulder’s mouth. The water carried the tang of excitement and precum... and the taste of Krycek, a taste he’d never thought to feel burning across his tongue again.

Skinner held Krycek so hard he could barely move, but the force of Skinner’s thrusts slammed their flesh together, Krycek’s body vibrating with the force. The loud echo of each slap filled Mulder’s ears, like the sights and sounds and tastes of the body under his hands and in his mouth filled his brain: everything focussed down to this moment.

Skinner’s hand released the base of Krycek’s cock, threaded through Mulder’s hair, and pushed him down harder, pushing Mulder’s head into Krycek’s groin. They connected, all three of them, and Mulder had the ridiculous thought he was sucking Skinner’s cock - using Krycek as a condom.

The cock being forced down his throat was cutting off his air, and he moaned, sending vibrations through the swollen flesh, and just rode out Skinner’s thrusts, aware of Krycek’s balls impacting with his chin, and Skinner’s grunts.

Skinner came hard, and with the same force and quiet dignity with which he did everything else. His hips pummelling Krycek’s appreciative ass, his eyes open the entire time, holding Mulder’s gaze.

Mulder released Krycek’s cock with a loud pop, as Skinner pulled himself free with enough force to drag Krycek back a few paces, yelping at the pain of the sudden seperation, his hole snapping shut on air.

Skinner finally relaxed the arm at Krycek’s throat, smiling at his relieved gasps for air. He pushed Krycek to the floor, onto his knees, kicking his thighs apart, then pushing his head onto the wet tiles. He sat himself down comfortably onto the bench under the shower, and put one foot onto Krycek’s neck, holding him in place.

"You’re turn, Agent Mulder," Skinner smiled as Mulder licked his lips, taking his place behind Krycek’s up-turned buttocks.

There was virtually no resistance as Mulder positioned himself, and pushed forward into the well lubricated channel, Krycek pushing back greedily. The hot sucking flesh gripped him hard, and Mulder smiled as he realised that much of the sticky moisture that surrounded him was Skinner’s cum.

He gripped each full round buttock, holding them apart to make sure he could go as deeply as possible, before pulling out and slamming back home. He pounded the ass raised helplessly in front of him, his balls slapping painfully against Krycek’s, and only Skinner’s weight on Krycek’s neck kept the helpless man from being pushed along the slippery tiles.

Krycek was sobbing quietly now, his giggles long gone as his need for release took over from his amusement, "Oh, Jesus, Mulder, fuck me, Christ, yeah, fuck me, Mulder..." the swearing and begging became a low vibrating litany, each plea forced out with each increasingly violent thrust.

Mulder could feel the heat gathering in his balls, slamming into willing flesh with a power that brought Krycek’s knees off the floor with every thrust. The first bubble of precum travelled to the tip of his stressed cock, Krycek’s flesh squeezing him like a hot wet fist, until it felt like the head of his cock was exploding, and he poured liquid steel into the body hungrily waiting for him.

He kept pumping it forward, enjoying Krycek’s cries for more as much as the electric pleasure of his orgasm set his body alight, pumping his hips until his balls felt drained and empty, and he fell forward over the pale back.

"Finished?" Skinner asked, grabbing Mulder’s arm, pulling him upright, hauling Krycek up by the cuffs.

"Hey, guys..." Krycek tried wiggling around, his ignored erection bobbing around frantically like a muppet on speed, seeping with precum and purple with need.

Skinner uncuffed Krycek, then recuffed his hands to the shower head, shins pressed against the wooden bench on which Skinner and Mulder plopped themselves down.

"Hey, guys, let me down." Krycek protested his uncomfortable position, twisting to look at the two agents through his over stretched arms. His need to cum painful and pressing.

"Shut up, boy," Skinner’s large hand loudly impacted with one vulnerable ass cheek.

"Ouch, hey, what are ya doing!" Krycek squawked as Skinner tested the pinkability of the other cheek.

"Mulder?" Skinner peered around the pert butt to talk to his agent, "We should reapply the foam in about twenty minutes... just to make sure there’s no reaction to the chemicals, of course."

Mulder grinned, running his hand up Krycek’s thighs, collecting the beads of moisture until his fingers tickled vulnerable balls, feeling them crawl against his finger tips, "How long do you think we can make those twenty minutes last?"

Skinner gave Krycek another good hard smack, enjoying his protest, "Oh, at least two hours... maybe more."