Home Alone

******************
HOME ALONE
by Blue Mohairbear
April, 2000
******************

NIGHT ONE

WEDNESDAY

Tired. So damn fucking tired and coming home to an empty house. Walter Skinner 
sighed as he took off his coat and jacket and walked into the silent living 
room. One year, he thought wrily. One year with his lovers and he was spoilt 
rotten. Couldn't even face three nights on his own.

He thought about the big bed upstairs. The bed they had built themselves, 
because they couldn't find one big enough for the space they needed. For the 
first time in a year, he would have to sleep alone in it. He sighed and shook 
his head.

//I should be glad. Three evenings and nights of blessed silence. Evenings with 
a *book*. Sleeping without freezing feet at my legs or elbows in my ribs. I 
should be glad.//

He really should. Waking up without having his arm choked to death by a heavy 
warm body at his side. Without strands of dark silky hair in his mouth or drool 
all over his chest hair from somebody who had happily used him as a pillow for 
the night, while the other somebody had tangled his legs so tightly into his own 
that the Gordian Knot was a joke compared to it.

He really should be glad. Three nights on his own. Silence and undisturbed 
sleep. He wondered why he didn't feel more enthusiastic. 

He stretched, loosened his tie and checked the answering machine. Two calls. He 
pressed the blinking button while he shed his shoes and slumped on the sofa with 
a sigh.

"Hey, Walter, it's me. Hmm, we thought you'd be home by now." A dark, rich, 
throaty voice.

Alex. Skinner smiled.

"We're at the hotel. I've already called the director and we'll be at the 
bank... tomorrow.

Will probably... take... the whole... day, and - aah. Fox. No."
His voice dropped a few tones. Skinner chuckled, shaking his 
head.

"Well, as I... was... trying to explain, Walter - - - hssssss - aaah, God." 
Krycek's breathing became heavier. Skinner could imagine what Mulder was doing. 
He grinned. Little sparks of heat began to pleasantly tickle in his groin. Some 
grunting sounds, then: "Well, Walter, .... oh shit. Fuck. Fox... no! Walter, 
I'll call you---" That must have been when the answering machine had cut off. 
Skinner didn't think that Krycek had had the time to end the call properly. Damn 
the answering machine, he would have loved to eavesdrop.

The second call was Mulder, of course. He sounded... relaxed. Skinner knew that 
tone. That was a satiated, fucked-through-the-mattress-and-two-floors-beyond-Mulder. 
Obviously, Krycek had done a thorough job.

"Hey, Big. It's me. Uhm... we miss you." Skinner grinned, while he pulled his 
tie off. Mulder always got cuddly after sex. He could see him in his mind: 
almond eyes half closed, face flushed, the lush lips swollen from kissing. Not 
to mention from sucking. He sighed. His cock gave explicit signals of interest.

//Well, you'll just have to wait until Saturday, buddy.//

"Yeah, Walter, we miss you." Alex, in the background. "Have you found it 
already? If yes, I hope you had fun."

Skinner blinked. Had he found *what* already?

"Yeah, Walter," Mulder chimed in. "And remember, only one at a time. Be a good 
boy, ok?"

"Yeah, be a good boy," came the snickering comment from the background. "Don't 
do anything we wouldn't do."

More snickering. From both.

"We'll call you tomorrow. Love you, Big. Night."

"Night, Walter. Love you." A beep ended the call.

Skinner shook his head. They had left something for him. Secretly, very 
secretly, he allowed himself to be touched. They missed him. That was good. 
Smiling, he searched around in the living room, but didn't see anything that 
looked like a present for him. 'Only one at a time'... that could mean 
chocolates. His lovers knew that he was a closet chocoholic. Maybe upstairs. But 
when he expectantly switched the lights in the bedroom on, he didn't spot 
anything spectacular either. He decided to take a shower first and have a 
further look later.

*******

Much better. There was nothing like the pounding stream of hot water to get the 
kinks of a hard day out of your neck and shoulders. Skinner, now in sweats and a 
tee, made himself some spaghetti and a salad, took a beer from the fridge and 
settled down on the sofa. He grabbed the remote and began to flicker through the 
channels. There should be a basketball game starting in a few minutes.

That was when he noticed the yellow spot.

The yellow spot was a small post-it, sticking to the front of the VCR. Skinner 
got up and plucked it off.

Krycek's handwriting.

"WATCH ME"

Skinner grinned.

He had found *it*.

*******

He sat down on the sofa again and started the VCR. The word "Wednesday" appeared 
on the screen, in big blue letters, and stayed for about ten seconds. Then 
light, some flickering, and then... a room. Skinner raised his eyebrows. What he 
saw was the sofa he was presently sitting on, seen from the front left.
What he saw as well was Alex Krycek, sitting on said sofa.
Naked.

Aroused.

Very aroused.

Skinner swallowed and laid the fork down on the table, spaghetti forgotten.

Krycek stretched his arms out over the back of the sofa and grinned into the 
camera, emerald green eyes sparkling. He was beautiful. Incredibly beautiful. 
Skinner let his eyes roam over the strong shoulders, and down the hairless, 
nicely muscled chest to the flat belly and the hard, bobbing cock. He licked his 
lips.

"Hey Walter. We figured you'd miss us. Well, then again, maybe you don't, huh? 
Maybe you're glad to be rid of us for a few days? Well, in case you're not... we 
wanted to give you something."

Krycek's low voice sent dark velvet shivers down Skinner's spine. 

"A little bedtime story, you know?" Mulder came into view, behind Krycek. He 
wore the dark green t-shirt Skinner had given him for his birthday, and a jeans 
that not only fitted, but *kissed* his ass. He leaned over Krycek and stroked 
his hands slowly over his lover's chest.

Krycek sighed, closed his eyes and let his head fall back. Mulder kissed his 
forehead and pinched his nipples. Krycek hissed and arched up. Mulder wet his 
lips and grinned into the camera.

"Like that, Walter?"

//Oh *yeah*//

Skinner swallowed. Funny how his throat had gotten dry so suddenly.

//I don't believe this. Don't tell me they have made a home porn for me.//

But his cock didn't seem to have any reservations. It was hard and the front of 
his sweatpants was already damp with precome where his cockhead strained against 
the soft cotton.

Entranced, Skinner watched as Mulder leaned over and let his hands roam down 
over Krycek's lean body and the muscular thighs. Krycek moaned and wriggled, 
trying to get his straining cock into contact with Mulder's hands.

"Shh, babe. Soon," Mulder said huskily. He went around the sofa and sat down 
beside Krycek, still fully dressed. Looked solemnly into the camera.

"Listen, Walter, - and don't touch yourself yet."

Skinner pulled his hand back. Busted.

//Damn profiler.//

He grinned. 

Mulder grinned impishly. Krycek waggled his eyebrows. Skinner shook his head. 
They were just impossible, those two. He leaned back to see what they had in 
mind now. Except the obvious, of course. Which he hoped they would start soon.

"We have recorded three bedtime stories for you, Big," Mulder explained, while 
his eyes went back and forth between the camera and Krycek's nipples he was now 
stroking and pinching.

Breathing deeply, Skinner watched as the graceful fingers he knew so well 
himself kneaded and rolled Krycek's brownish-pink pebbles, and felt his own 
nipples harden in response. Krycek's whimpers went directly to his groin, but he 
resisted the urge to touch his cock right now and concentrated on Mulder.

"Now, there's one story for each evening we're gone", Mulder explained over 
Krycek's moans.

"You can watch only one story a night. We trust you on that, otherwise you'd 
spoil your own fun."

He bent down and licked the erected buttons he had treated so lovingly. Krycek 
groaned and grabbed his lover's head, pressing his chest closer to Mulder's 
mouth. His cock twitched and bobbed up, the purple head dripping with crystal 
pearls. Skinner remembered the things Krycek had done to him with that cock just 
a few nights ago. He groaned.

Mulder stood up, gave the camera a sultry look from under his eyelashes, and let 
himself down on Krycek's lap, straddling him. He kissed his lover fiercely, 
licking his lips, his jaw, his neck. Then he lifted his arms. Krycek quickly 
pushed Mulder's shirt up, following his hands with his lips and tongue wherever 
he could reach. 

Skinner leaned back and rubbed his palm slowly over his hard-on, while he 
watched Mulder.

Beautiful Mulder, head thrown back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, as he 
enjoyed his lover's lips travelling over his chest. As Krycek's lips latched 
onto Mulder's right nipple and Mulder whimpered deep in his throat, Skinner let 
his hand glide under the waistband of his sweats. He allowed himself to enclose 
his cock, but no more. Breathing heavily, he watched as Mulder pulled his shirt 
completely over his head and let it fall at Krycek's bare feet. Watched Krycek 
giving Mulder a deep purple bite mark directly over his nipple, eliciting little 
moaning sounds.

Panting, Krycek tried to rub his cock against Mulder's crotch, but his lover 
avoided any contact by wiggling his hips just *so*. Skinner remembered vividly 
what this wiggling motion could do to him while his cock was buried deep in 
Mulder's ass. He moaned and grabbed his dick, hard. Began to stroke himself, 
lightly and cautiously. He felt like coming already and his lovers hadn't even 
begun.

Mulder glided down to the floor and settled between Krycek's legs. Spread the 
well-muscled limbs carefully with his hands and turned to the camera.

"Look, Walter. Isn't he incredibly hot? And sexy? Do you miss him? I bet you 
do."

//God, I miss you both.//

"This is all for you now, Walter. Just imagine you are me. This is all yours. 
*He* is all yours." And Mulder bent down and licked over Krycek's stiff dick, 
with long, wet strokes.

Krycek cried out and bucked up.

"Shh, babe," Mulder repeated. "Like that, do you? Me too, believe me."

He looked into the camera again, as if to make sure that Skinner was paying 
close attention. Then he tuned back, bent down, and sucked Krycek's cock deep 
into his mouth.

Skinner groaned in unison with Krycek's shout.

Heartbeat speeding up explosively. Heatwaves and chills alternating attacking 
his whole and suddenly oversensitive body. Muscles straining more and more, 
becoming taut like bowstrings.

Hot lust, fireworks in his groin, his cock close to exploding. Skinner could 
barely keep himself from coming right on the spot.

It was torture watching Mulder as he alternately sucked Krycek's cockhead, then 
licked and nibbled it, then, with a sudden motion, swallowed the whole hard 
thing again deep down his throat. Skinner found himself mimicking Mulder's 
actions on his own hard rod. When Mulder fondled Krycek's balls, Skinner rolled 
his own sac in his hands, thinking of how Mulder could almost make him come just 
from that.

Mulder had wonderful, sensitive hands and lips, and he was able to focus 
completely on one part of his respective lover's body. One long and lazy Sunday 
morning, he had made Krycek come just from kissing, nibbling, biting and 
tongue-fucking his asshole. One touch at Krycek's cock had been enough to 
set the green-eyed sex monster off, screaming and yelling.

That had made Skinner so mad with lust that he had blindly grabbed Mulder and 
fucked him into next week - so hard that both of them had hurt the day after. 
That had been a glorious morning.

Just now, Mulder's tongue was busy circling Krycek's purple cockhead. Skinner 
stroked his thumb around his own, imagining Mulder licking him. He moaned softly 
as he watched his lover tracing the heartshaped outline with the hardened tip of 
his tongue, making Krycek whimper pitifully. Moaning lowly, Skinner repeated the 
movement with his thumb. Then Mulder began to suck on the head while his hand 
pumped the shaft. Skinner groaned and joined the pumping motion with his right 
hand, while his left alternately pinched his nipples and fondled his balls.

Krycek gave a whine as Mulder suddenly pulled back. Skinner almost came when 
Mulder turned to the camera and he got to look directly into those slitted eyes, 
blazing with lust. Mulder licked his swollen lips.

"Careful, Walter. Don't come. We're not done yet."

Skinner sighed. He bit his lip until he was able to loosen the grip around his 
cock. Damn, Mulder knew him too well.

//To be honest, feels good to know that//

Mulder turned back to Krycek.

"How are you up there, lover?"

Krycek was beyond speech. All he could do was whimper and buck up. He tried to 
get a grip on Mulder's hair to lead him back to his rock hard cock. But Mulder 
took his hands, kissed each palm lovingly and put them firmly at Krycek's sides.

"Soon, babe." He bent down and pressed a kiss on the furry sac. "You like that?"
Krycek whimpered.

"You wanna come, babe?"

Krycek moaned, head lolling on the back of the sofa, eyes closed. He was 
panting. So was Skinner who, hearing Krycek's hot whimpers, could barely hold 
back from just giving himself the two, three hard jerks he needed to come. He 
had watched his lovers sucking and fucking each other countless times, and it 
still made him horny as hell, but this... this video, this was... different. Hot 
in a very special way. Maybe it was the pornographic quality. He didn't care. 
All he cared about right now was the stone hard erection in his hand and the 
self-restraint he needed not to come yet.

"Ask me. Nicely."

Shit. Skinner almost lost it at the husky, commanding tone of Mulder's voice. 
Entranced, he watched as Krycek's eyes snapped open and the beautiful Russian 
blinked several times. The green eyes were glazed over with lust as he licked 
his lips and tried to speak. Stared at his torturer with a mix of incredulity 
and desperation. Mulder stared back, eyes round in mock innocence, waiting. 
Krycek groaned. His eyes fell close again.

"Please...," he panted hoarsely. "Please... Fox... make me....come...please... 
let me..." He whimpered again.

"God, Alex, I love you like this," Mulder said, his voice rough with arousal. 
"Okay, I'm gonna let you come now. And that does *not* go for you, Walter," he 
ordered, turning and giving Skinner a stern look through the lens.

He obviously enjoyed this game with the camera.

//So you're an exhibitionist, my Fox? Camera makes you hot? I'll keep that in 
mind.//

"Now watch this, Walter. And *don't come*."

Mulder dove down, sucked the cockhead once, hard, then drew back and stuck his 
tongue out, while his pumping fist aimed the tip to his lips. Krycek came with a 
howl, his hands grabbing frantically into the cushions beside him, watching with 
huge, dazed eyes as his come shot in white splashing ropes onto Mulder's 
outstretched tongue.

Skinner groaned and could only prevent himself from coming by pressing his cock 
hard just behind the head with thumb and forefinger. After a few seconds, the 
urge to come receded.

He wanted to grab and shake Mulder as he watched him closing his eyes 
blissfully, swallowing Krycek's semen with obvious relish and then smirking into 
the camera.

"You didn't come, Big, did you? Because, if you did, what comes now won't be so 
much fun for you anymore." And Mulder grinned at the floppy bundle on the sofa.

"Come on, lover." He nudged Krycek's hips. Krycek grinned, too, eyes still 
closed, grabbed weakly into Mulder's hair and pulled him up. Skinner sighed 
enviously as he watched them kissing. The little noises and moans they made, the 
soft wet sounds of moist lips and tongues only fueled his lust and frustration. 
He knew too well how Krycek's kisses could melt the North Pole. The man could 
make a simple kissing session into an epiphany.

Finally, Mulder drew away, panting, got up, and slapped his lover's thigh. 
Krycek gave a mischievous grin into the camera.

"You'll love this, Big", he rasped. Raised one eyebrow meaningfully, and turned 
around. He knelt, resting his elbows on the back of the sofa. He looked over his 
shoulder into the camera, grinned evilly, spread his legs a bit more and wiggled 
his ass.

Skinner's breathing became heavier. God, that ass. And oh, Mulder's wicked grin.

"See something you like, Big?"

Skinner wasn't able to give more than a little snort. Obviously, they had 
rehearsed all this before. They had placed the camera perfectly, at just the 
right angle. He had a great view on Krycek's ass... on Krycek's *lubed* ass, he 
realized, and his cock twitched painfully. He swallowed. Krycek's opening was 
nicely lubed and loose. They *had* prepared and rehearsed this.

Skinner groaned. All he could think of was how much he wanted to shove his 
hard-on into that tight hole and thrust home and ram and fuck and come.

Mulder began to stroke the firm buttocks, always seeing to it that his hands 
didn't obstruct Skinner's view. Krycek moaned softly and began to rock back and 
forth with his lover's caresses.

Mulder, too, was breathing rapidly now. He pressed kisses on both cheeks before 
him, then flicked the button of his jeans open, yanked at the zipper, shoved the 
jeans roughly down over his thighs and stepped out. He sighed with relief as his 
straining cock sprang into freedom.

Skinner moaned and licked his lips. Only last night, that same cock had been in 
his mouth and Mulder had made the most wonderful noises. He had begged and 
pleaded and cursed until Krycek had stuffed that lush mouth with his own cock.

"Okay, Walter, prepare yourself for a ride." Mulder's voice was rough with need. 
He grabbed the lube from the table, squeezed some of it into his hand and let 
the tube fall down onto his t-shirt on the floor. He hissed as he stroked his 
hard-on with his lubed hand, then positioned himself behind his impatient lover.

"Here it comes, babe," he panted. Krycek moaned and pushed backwards. Skinner 
groaned in unison with Mulder as he watched the glistening cock glide slowly 
into Krycek's ass. Mulder's head fell back, his mouth open.

"God, Alex... so good... nnuuuh... good..."

//Oh yeah I know, babe. I know//

Skinner was close now and he could see it in Mulder's face that this wouldn't 
take much longer. He stroked his cock in rhythm with Mulder's thrusts, and damn, 
Krycek was hard again and pumping himself while he pushed back forcefully to 
drive his lover's cock deeper into himself.

Mulder was getting totally incoherent now, and Skinner heard Krycek's raw shout 
and saw him bucking like a wild horse and Mulder lost it ---

"Alex -- god, I'm--- ah-ah-aaaah -- UUUUUUH GOD ALEX ---"
--- and Skinner let go with a loud groan - and then - then Mulder pulled out of 
Krycek and Skinner saw his come splattering all over Krycek's back - and Skinner 
exploded forcefully, coming and coming and coming, hard, so incredibly hard.

Somewhere, far away, he heard Krycek shouting something unintelligible, and he 
didn't care, might be something Russian again; Krycek often came in Russian and 
that was really endearing and he and Mulder found it cute and they loved it, but 
right now he couldn't care about Krycek or Mulder because he was riding some 
really high waves of intense lust and pleasure and his chest hair was soaked 
with come and his heart was near bursting and he was ready to die.

*****************

Next morning was hell. Shit, the whole night had been hell. Although he had 
fallen into bed right away, wrung out, at first it had been impossible for him 
to fall asleep. The bed had simply been too empty, too silent. No one take into 
his arms or to snuggle up to. No gentle snoring sounds in his ear, no sleepy 
murmurs, no unwilling mutters when one of them pulled a hurting arm or leg from 
under the body next to him. No contented sighs when one had found a new 
snuggling position against another.

No gentle squeezes, strokes or kisses, bubbling up from the deep blue sea of 
sleep; caresses that were not given or received consciously, but had built a 
warm and secure cocoon of love and affection around them in which they slept 
safely until either the alarm clock or the urging of a morning hard-on woke 
them.

They didn't even have fixed places in that huge bed, they mostly fell asleep 
where they came to lie, either after a mind-blowing sex session or just after 
snuggling, talking, reading and watching TV until they all dozed off, unerringly 
being drawn to each other during their sleep.

He remembered one night when his two younger lovers had literally fucked him 
into oblivion, ganging up against him, one of them ramming into him hard, the 
other one sucking him off, while torturing his nipples in the most exquisite 
way, until he had helplessly exploded, roaring, in a blinding supernova of lust.

He had come to hours later, sprawled at the end of the bed, having been lovingly 
cleaned up and tucked under a blanket, while Krycek and Mulder had arranged 
themselves crossways over the bed, not to disturb him, but still close enough 
for his subconscious to feel complete. He had dozed off again, but in the 
morning had found himself spooned between them. The little homing device always 
worked. No, sleeping alone definitely was not a favoured option anymore, Skinner 
decided. So much for fooling himself with "quiet evenings and undisturbed 
nights". He sighed.

Worse, the erotic images of the tape kept following him through the day. Work 
was difficult, to say the least. He had woken with a raging hard-on, already 
close to bursting, and had taken care of that in the shower. Recalling the 
pictures of Krycek's come shooting into Mulder's mouth and of Mulder's cock 
gliding into Krycek's tight ass had been enough to set him off after only a few 
strokes. It was almost like being twenty years younger again. God, he missed his 
guys, and they had been only gone one day.

Unfortunately, the morning release didn't seem to be enough. His cock went 
between being half-erect and painfully hard all day, his skin tingled, his mind 
kept wandering. Skinner found he felt like he had in the first few months of 
their triad relationship, when all they could think of when they finally came 
together after their working days was fucking each other senseless. After a year 
of constantly living and sleeping together, the maniac sex had slowed down a 
bit, had become deeper and more loving, though no less passionate.

But that video session... Jesus, that had been hot. And leave it to Mulder, the 
porn specialist, to give him the pleasure of a really sexy cum shot at the end. 
Skinner shivered.

He had to admit that he couldn't wait for tonight, to see what kind of surprise 
he would find on that tape.

"Walter? Are you alright?"

His mind snapped back. Meeting. He was in a meeting. Damn. He looked up and saw 
Director Scott's concerned blue eyes searching his face. He cleared his throat.

"Ah, yes, David. Sorry. I'm fine."

Scott gave him a closer look. "You don't *look* fine, Walter. In fact, you look 
feverish. You want an aspirin? Or to go home?"

"I'm fine," Skinner said irritably. At Scott's raised eyebrow and shrug, he 
added a lame "Thanks, David." Scott nodded. "Well, Gentlemen, as I was 
saying...."

Skinner had to restrain himself harshly not to think about that tape anymore. 
About how his lovers had sounded when they had come. Shouting his name, in 
unison. *His* name. And how hard he had come on that and how touched he had been 
that they - damn. He bit hard on his tongue to stay with Scott and the meeting. 
And it was just one o'clock, he still had to stay until - well, five at least. 
He decided to leave early today. Five, yes. Five would be fine. Let them wonder, 
fuck them.

Continued in "Home Alone: Night Two - Thursday"


***************

NIGHT TWO

THURSDAY
 
Coming home, he resisted the urge to grab the remote right away. Instead, he 
forced himself to shower and change first. Although, he mused, grinning, if 
tonight's "bedtime story" was going to be only half as hot as last night's, he 
would need another shower afterwards. But he hated how his clothes reeked of 
cigarette and cigar smoke after those fucking boring meetings and a hot shower 
always helped him to relax, to leave the Bureau day behind him.

The Chinese food he had brought with him smelled enticing and he flipped through 
a few channels while he ate, prolonging the anticipation. He hadn't gotten to 
even touch his spaghetti last night, and he figured he would be needing some 
strength in a little while. He hoped.

He enjoyed the sweet torture until all of the food was finished, then got 
himself another beer, leaned back on the couch, dimmed the light, and started 
the tape.

"Tuesday", in blue again. Then - Skinner gasped. Sleeping room. Their more than 
king size bed, from the left side. On the bed - Mulder, on his back.

Spread-eagled.

Tied up.

Blindfolded.

Panting.

With a hard-on that looked like it was close to exploding.

Skinner blinked. What the hell did Krycek have in mind? He wouldn't... no. Or 
would he...? They had, on long weekends, experimented with light bondage, and 
found out that all three of them liked being tied up. A bit of rough handling, 
butt-smacking and dirty talk had proved to be a major turn-on, especially for 
Mulder. But they hadn't gone beyond that - yet. Seemed like his guys wanted to 
try some of that stuff now. Skinner swallowed. He wasn't sure which feeling was 
more dominant at the moment - being horny as hell or feeling shut out from the 
experiment.

But again his lovers managed to surprise him. What Krycek held into the camera 
with a broad, sexy grin, was no paddle, whip or belt. It was a little bowl, with 
lightly steaming contents.

Krycek winked mischievously at his unseen lover on the couch, then climbed onto 
the bed, to his very aroused other lover. He didn't forget to wiggle his ass, 
tightly clad in some expensive silver-grey briefs, in Skinner's direction. 
Turned back to the lens, put the bowl next to Mulder's hip, sat back on his 
heels, and held a paintbrush up.

Skinner grinned. This promised to get interesting. He pushed a few cushions 
under his head, stretched and wiggled until he lay comfortably, arms folded 
behind his neck. He heroically ignored the throbbing bulge in his sweats. This 
time he wanted to go slowly. Enjoy first, get off later.

"So, Walter, did you enjoy last night's bedtime treat?" Alex asked mischievously 
from the bed.

"Aleeeex...." That was Mulder, breathless and wriggling impatiently on the bed.

"Hush," Krycek said fondly and swatted the hip next to him. A husky moan was the 
answer.

Krycek grinned.

"Well, Big, you always say you find Fox 'edible'. I'm totally with you here," 
and he bent down and bit gently into Mulder's slender, well-muscled thigh. 

Mulder arched up with a groan, and Krycek soothed the bite with tender licks. 

Skinner hissed and found himself squirming.

Suddenly, it was not so easy anymore to keep his arms behind his head, but he 
held on. Also, he was a bit embarrassed.

//I need to watch what I'm saying... *Edible?* Did I really say that loud? 
Jeez.//

"I've decided that Fox is gonna be *my* bedtime treat tonight," Krycek 
continued, looking directly at Skinner and, licking his lips, he took the 
paintbrush and stroked tenderly over Mulder's neck.

"Oh *yeah*," Mulder moaned and tilted his head to give his lover better access.

"Oh yeah," Skinner whispered and shivered. His erection began to feel slightly 
uncomfortable now, but he still refused to reach down. Instead, he gyrated his 
hips a bit, making the cotton of his sweats glide and rub over his hard-on like 
the light touch of a palm, sending dark-sweet flames of arousal through his 
whole body. Oh yeah, he would make himself wait for it tonight. This was going 
to be good. 

Entranced, he watched Krycek attending to his lover's neck with feather-light 
strokes. Then, slowly, the brush wandered down over the pecs, through the light 
brown chest hair, to the left nipple. Mulder was practically purring; and seeing 
him squirming so deliciously in his bonds elicited an envious moan from Skinner.

He let his hand wander down to his own left nipple. With light squeezes and 
tickles, he teased himself through the t-shirt, reveling in Mulder's little 
moans.

"He's a beautiful little slut, isn't he, Walter?" Krycek asked in a gravelly 
voice. His green eyes seemed to have grown darker as he gave his lover back home 
a hot look from under half-closed lids. Skinner could clearly see the bulge and 
the damp spot in front of the tight grey briefs.

"Yeah, you bet he is," he murmured. He sat up and got rid of his shirt, then lay 
back down.

He began to skim his chest with both palms, rubbing lightly over his nipples, 
but still didn't go down to his straining, demanding cock.

On the screen, Krycek obviously had lots of fun torturing his very vocal lover 
with the soft paintbrush. He stroked and petted, tickled Mulder's sides and 
grinned evilly when the bristles in his victim's armpits brought forth an 
interesting mix of breathless bursts of laughter and colourful curses.

Skinner grinned, shaking his head. No doubt, Mulder was the talker in this 
relationship. Even in bed he rarely shut up. Which was nice, because he had a 
real talent for hot, erotic images which he whispered into his lovers' ears with 
that rough, husky voice that he got when he was aroused.

Krycek just chuckled at the verbal assaults and reached for the bowl.

"Starting now, Fox," he announced, and Mulder stopped squirming and relaxed. 

Skinner moistened his lips and stared as Krycek dipped the brush into the bowl. 
It came up dripping with a thick, dark liquid... Skinner squinted, then laughed, 
shaking his head again. 

"Chocolate," he said, incredulously. But the smile changed into a wide-mouthed 
"Ooooh", when Krycek, his tongue sticking out between his lips in concentration, 
brought the chocolate-covered brush over Mulder's right nipple and applied it in 
one smooth stroke down from pec to pelvic bone. Mulder hissed, and Skinner 
sighed. Krycek smiled contentedly.

"This is gonna be such a nice painting," he said to no one in particular. He 
dipped the brush into the bowl again and began where he had ended the first 
line. The brush went diagonally up this time, and ended right over Mulder's 
bellybutton. Head tilted slightly, Krycek surveyed his work, then dunked the 
brush in again and let a fat dollop of chocolate plop into Mulder's navel. 
Mulder snorted, his abdomen quivered.

"Stay still," Krycek scolded good-naturedly, "you're destroying a piece of art," 
and he slapped his lover's hip again. He smiled into the camera.

"Enjoying yourself, Walter?", he asked.

Oh, Skinner was. Boy, was he ever. He was laying on his side, propped up on one 
elbow, and slowly rubbing his free hand over his hard cock which was still 
covered in the navy blue sweats.

"You two just wait until Saturday," he said to the screen. He didn't manage the 
threatening undertone he had intended. He sounded breathless to himself, 
breathless and needy. The tingle was back, that tingle which had made him crazy 
all day at the office. His whole body felt as if it were lying in an 
electrically charged field.

"Good," Krycek grinned, as if he had heard Skinner. And went back to work on his 
own Mulder canvas. Unconsciously sticking the tip of his tongue out again, he 
placed the dripping brush over Mulder's navel and stroked it diagonally down to 
the left pelvic bone. Dipped the brush into the bowl and drew a neat line up to 
Mulder's left nipple. Made sure to stroke the brush over the nub several times. 

Mulder moaned loudly.

"God, Alex, that feels hot."

"It's not hot anymore, only warm, you wuss."

"I didn't mean - oh shit!"

Krycek had dived down and was now sucking the chocolate out of his lover's 
navel. He made a production out of sucking and slurping and licking it clean, 
ignoring Mulder's needy whimpers.

Skinner watched, breathing heavily, as Mulder's stiff cock bounced and twitched, 
the slit at the purple head leaking little glistening pearls; as the beautiful 
bound man on the bed arched up as far as he could and desperately tried to bring 
his erection into contact with his torturer.

Skinner licked his lips, wishing he could taste that clear liquid at Mulder's 
cockhead now.

He hooked his thumb under the elastic of his sweats and pulled them down a bit. 
His heavy cock, full of blood and stone hard, bobbed free, and Skinner sighed 
with relief.

He heard Krycek chuckle.

"No humping, Fox. And look, now you've cracked this wonderful line. I'll have to 
repaint it. Here. God, I'm a Picasso. No, don't move, lover. So, Walter, what do 
you think of the work I made for you?" Krycek stretched himself out beside 
Mulder, so Skinner could have an unobstructed view.

Skinner looked at "his work of art" and loved it. Mulder, still blindfolded, 
spread out on the midnight blue sheets, his skin glowing like marble against the 
dark background, and on his strong, lean runner's body a big, dark, chocolate 
"W". Skinner was touched. And he was hot. Damn, he would give anything to be 
able to lick that chocolate off Mulder.

He moaned softly. Cautiously, he grabbed his cock and massaged the head lightly 
with his thumb, spreading the precome over the sensitive skin. With a lustful 
sigh, he arranged himself in a better position on the couch and waited for 
Krycek's next move.

He didn't have to wait long. Flashing a shit-eating grin into the camera, the 
beautiful Russian straddled Mulder's thighs, bent forward, and rubbed his own 
hard-on slowly and voluptuously over the well-defined muscles. He closed his 
eyes and sighed blissfully, wiggling his ass in Skinner's direction. Then he got 
quickly up, pulled his briefs off and sat down again.

"Alex... take that blindfold off. I know you're naked, I wanna see you."

Mulder's voice was rough with desire. The sound sent shivers down Skinner's 
spine, and he grabbed his cock hard, which made him groan loudly. Damn, he had 
planned to take it slow tonight, and already he was close again.

"Uh-huh. Not yet, lover. When you're clean, maybe." And with that, Krycek bent 
down over Mulder's right nipple, where he had started to paint, and began to 
suck the chocolate off.

Noisily. Messily. Lustfully.

Mulder moaned, whimpered and cursed. Krycek let his tongue forcefully flick over 
the hard nub, then alternated with the left nipple. Skinner was also moaning 
now. He quickly sat up, shed his t-shirt and turned onto his stomach. When he 
squirmed, the soft surface of the buffalo hide couch rubbed deliciously against 
his nipples and sent sharp little sparks directly to his dick. God, this was so 
good. He just had to manage to hold on.

The problem was that the couch felt damn good against his dick, too. It was 
almost like he could feel every little crease in the leather. He knew that he 
should pull his sweats up or put a towel under him - the leather would be 
stained from his precome - but he didn't care.

It felt hot and sexy on his sensitized skin, and he would have plenty of time to 
clean up later. Later. Not now. Now there was some really hot action on the 
screen and his lovers were irresistibly wonderful. Breathing hard and rubbing 
his chest and groin in tiny motions over the leather, Skinner watched Krycek 
nibbling and sucking a wet path down and along the chocolate "W" on Mulder's 
upper body. 

When Krycek reached Mulder's pelvic bone, he began to softly stroke the insides 
of his victim's thighs, still licking every little trace of the chocolate off. 
Mulder was whimpering constantly now, and he was talking in one of his 
languages. They reminded Skinner of a book he had read, "The Lost Language Of 
Cranes".

That was what they were, lost languages, because Mulder never spoke the same 
twice. When he was aroused and denied release, he reached a headspace where he 
talked the most fascinating but totally unintelligible stuff. It sounded 
beautiful and strange, sometimes like foreign music, sometimes like shamanic 
words of an old forgotten tribe in a jungle at the end of the world.

Krycek looked up into Mulder's flushed face and smiled. It was a smile full of 
love and tenderness, and Skinner felt himself missing his guys so much it hurt. 
But he didn't have the time to get sentimental because Krycek's smile suddenly 
changed into a feral grin. Skinner could literally watch the wicked idea forming 
between those elfin ears.

A second later, the paintbrush was back in Krycek's hand, and, dripping with 
thick chocolate, drawn over Mulder's leaking cock and down to his balls. Mulder 
threw his head back and howled, bucking up as far as his bonds allowed it.

Skinner could see Krycek's hard cock jump at the hot sound and pressed his own 
hard-on into the couch with a harsh groan.

"Now lookee what he have here: nut chocolate!", Krycek said triumphantly and 
gave Mulder's balls a long, hot, wet lick, humming contentedly while he sucked 
at the furry sac. Mulder uttered a hoarse cry, unable to articulate his needs.

"What is it - oh, you want some choc, too, huh?" Krycek asked mockingly. "No 
problem, lover, just a second." And with that, he dunked the brush into the 
bowl. Then he positioned himself in front of the camera, sat back on his heels, 
opened his legs wide and slowly covered his hard, bobbing dick with a thick 
layer of liquid chocolate.

Mesmerized and panting hard, Skinner watched, pressing his own cock down into 
the soft leather according to every stroke Krycek applied to himself. He moaned 
softly and tried hard not to increase his movements. He didn't want to come yet. 
He knew that Krycek would fuck Mulder into oblivion after this hot and sweet 
session and he wanted to enjoy that fully.

"Oh, shit," Krycek murmured suddenly and grabbed his dick hard just behind the 
head. Mulder snorted.

"That's what you get from being such a fucking pain in the ass. Almost came, 
huh? What exactly are you doing there, anyway? And will you put this damn 
blindfold off. Now!"

Krycek put the bowl with the paintbrush down on the floor and turned to his 
lover.

"You're much too eloquent again for my taste, baby. Let's see what we can do 
about that." And with that, he straddled Mulder's chest and brushed his 
chocolate-covered cock against the bound man's lips.

Mulder opened up eagerly and swallowed Krycek's cock with obvious relish. Krycek 
let out a long groan and threw his head back. He propped his hands on the 
headboard and moved his hips slowly, gliding in and out of Mulder's mouth.

"Ooooh yeah, that's so good, baby, sooo goood....," he moaned. Skinner found 
himself mimicking the movements, staring longingly at Krycek's beautiful ass. He 
could see the dark brown cock gliding back and forth and he remembered vividly 
how it felt being in Mulder's hot, eager, talented mouth, being sucked and 
licked and -

"Aaah - no, Fox, nononoDON'T DO *THAT* - DAMNOHFUCKOHFUCKOH**FUCK**!!!!!!"

Skinner blinked as Krycek suddenly jerked and spasmed. He watched him pistoning 
hard and ruthlessly into Mulder's face, cursing and screaming. He almost came 
along with Krycek, but he had to laugh so hard that he managed to hold it. 
Mulder had tricked his wicked lover. The things the man could do with his mouth 
should be considered lethal.

Krycek slumped beside Mulder, panting hard.

"Damn. Fuck you, Fox."

Mulder laughed delightedly, licking a mix of Krycek's come and lots of chocolate 
from his lips.

"Yeah, I guess I've wasted that chance. Come on, Alex, take the blindfold off."

Krycek sighed resignedly and reached over. Mulder blinked into the sudden light, 
then grinned at his still heavily breathing lover and waggled his eyebrows in 
the direction of Krycek's cock.

"You still have chocolate down there. Wanna have that removed?" 

"The script said 'Krycek fucks Mulder into next week'. You weren't supposed to 
do *that*," Krycek said sulkily. "You cheated. I should leave you here all 
night, bound and with that hard-on and all."

"Yeah, but you won't, because you *love* to suck me off," Mulder purred and 
wiggled his hips suggestively.

"I hate to admit it, but you're right," Krycek purred back and dove down. In 
seconds, he had Mulder babbling unintelligibly once more.

"Mmmm, you taste good," he murmured, licking his lips. He grabbed Mulder's cock, 
looked into the camera and asked:

"Are you touching yourself, Walter? I bet you are. Now, come on, do as I do 
here. Take your dick into your hand. Fist it. Slowly. Like this, see?"

Oh, Skinner saw, all right.

He turned on his back, his hard, engorged cock in his right hand, and dreamily 
followed Krycek's instructions, letting himself be led by Mulder's constant 
moans and sobs. The chocolate had melted into Krycek's hand; Mulder's cock was a 
dark, sticky mess. A hot, sexy, beautiful mess, which Skinner longed to taste 
right now.

"GodAlexfasterfasterpleasefasterplease---ohyeahyeah----YEAHOHALEEEEEEX!" Mulder 
arched up into his bonds, up into Krycek's fist, and with a last long scream, he 
violently shot several ropey streams over his chest, decorating the half-eaten 
chocolate "W" with a creamy white. 

"Wow," Krycek said admiringly.

That sight and the sounds were too much for Skinner. He closed his eyes, gave 
his cock two hard strokes and came with a roar, hard and almost painful. His 
whole upper body lifted up from the couch as his orgasm was wrung out of him, 
then he slumped back with a thud, gasping for air.

When he looked back at the screen, Krycek had loosened Mulder's bonds and was 
tenderly rubbing his exhausted lover's wrists and ankles. Massaging Mulder's 
left foot, Krycek turned to the camera. 

"Had a good time, Walter? Did we wear you out? Well, see you tomorrow night."

"Love you, Big," came the sated and sleepy comment from behind Krycek. The 
Russian chuckled.

Skinner smiled.

"Love you too, both," he murmured. The screen went blank and he hastened to stop 
the VCR before the next part could start. He didn't want to spoil his own fun - 
and even if he had wanted, he wouldn't have been able to right now.

Groaning, he got up and went to the shower. The hot water relaxed his muscles 
and made him even sleepier. He chuckled. Chocolate. He still couldn't believe 
it. He briefly wondered how they had managed to wash the sheets without him 
noticing, but decided he wasn't really interested.

Bed. Sleep.

Just when he had dried himself off, the phone rang.

"Hey, Big. When did you get home?" Mulder asked.

"Oh, about five-thirty," Skinner said, unguarded in his sleepiness.

"*Five-thirty*?"

Skinner could *see* Mulder grinning, and he heard Krycek snicker in the 
background.

"Wow. Seems you were eager to het home, Big, huh? Found something there you 
liked?"

Skinner felt himself blushing.

"How was your meeting with the director?", he asked. He tried to sound clipped 
and terse, but knew he couldn't fool his lovers. His voice sounded too much like 
Mulder's after sex. Rough and sated.

Mulder chuckled. "You *have* found it, and you loved it, right? Come on, Big, 
let's know you appreciate all our hard work."

"I do appreciate it," Skinner grumbled. "It... that was... yeah, I liked it. A 
lot," he finally ground out.

"Thought so," Mulder said, tenderly and deeply satisfied.

"So, what about your meeting?", Skinner insisted.

"Well, there are good news for you, Big. If Alex gets the stuff with that Czech 
bank and those odd accounts in Algier sorted out tomorrow, it seems we're 
obscenely rich. This means you could quit the FBI if you wanted, Walter."

Mulder's serious tone implied that he would like that a lot.

"This just means *Alex* is obscenely rich," Skinner corrected soberly.
He heard an indignant "Hey!" in the background, then Alex was on the phone.

"Look, Walter," Krycek said, almost angrily, "we've talked this over already. 
Several times.

Before we got together, I was wandering around, alone, minding my own 
business--"

- this got him a snort from Skinner and a "woo-hoo!" from Mulder - 

"-- ok, ok, *almost* minding my own business," he continued, annoyed. "Then, you 
two literally kidnapped me, a fact I don't exactly mind, ok, and suddenly, I realize 
that somewhere along the way I've gotten married. Not that I mind that, either. 
It just means what's mine is yours. And this is not open for discussion, ok?"

"Alex-"

"No, Walter. Definitely no. I *know* you don't need my money. Fat salary, big 
pension, etcetera. Fox doesn't need it either, he's literally raking it in with 
his books. Needed or not, my money is yours and Fox's, too. And I'd love to have 
you home. Imagine that, Walter.

You could spend every day of the rest of your life fucking Fox and me into 
oblivion. Isn't that worth a thought?"

Krycek's voice had become low and velvety with his last words. Skinner thought 
about the video and shuddered with delight. Oh yeah, that was worth more than 
just one thought.

"I'd be dead in about one week," he stated. "I don't think my heart would take 
that."

"Translated from Walterspeak, you love the idea," Mulder said, matter-of-factly, 
in the background. Skinner just snorted again, then sighed.

"Just come back soon," he said, suddenly not caring anymore whether he sounded 
corny or needy. Hell, he *did* need his guys.

"Love you too, Walter," Krycek said softly. "Tons. Call you tomorrow night."
"Night, Big. Love you. Sleep tight."

Continued in "HOME ALONE: NIGHT THREE"


***************

NIGHT THREE

FRIDAY

"Sleep tight," Mulder had said on the phone. Skinner snorted. He had *not* slept 
tight.

*Again*.

He had been moving all over the bed in his sleep, unconsciously searching for 
his lovers. He had woken several times from the damn silence. Which meant 
absence of snoring, mumbling, sighing and murmuring. Not to mention absence of 
body heat, sleepy caresses and the general feeling of love and comfort. And 
absolutely not to mention the absence of somebody to take care of his morning 
hard-on. In short: he hated sleeping alone. And that from a grown man of 
fifty-two. Pitiful.

He entered his office in a dark mood, and only the knowledge that his lovers 
would be back tomorrow kept him from biting Agent Fuller's head off when she 
handed him a budget report that reminded him too vividly of Mulder's wild times 
with the X-Files.

He somehow managed to get through this shitty Friday and studiously ignored 
Kim's lifted eyebrows as he left the office at five for the second time this 
week. Hell, it might have been the second time this *year*. He found himself 
thinking about what his guys had suggested last night. It would be nice not 
having to come here anymore. He would talk it over with them, he decided. And, 
remembering what waited for him at home, his mood began to lift.

This time, he called first. He got Mulder on his cell.

"Alex is still at the bank, but almost finished," his lover told him. "We'll 
catch the first flight tomorrow morning, at about - lemme look - yeah, eight 
twenty-five. We'll be scratching at the door around twelve, I think."

"You want anything for dinner?", Skinner asked. "I could prepare you something."

"Ooooh yeah," Mulder purred. "How about a hot Walter, waiting for us upstairs, 
all naked and horny and ready?"

Skinner chuckled. "That depends on what I'm gonna find on that tape tonight. I 
don't think you can top the chocolate. That was your idea, wasn't it?"

"You liked?" Mulder sounded delighted. "Actually, it was Alex's idea, but 
tonight's treat was mine. Think of me when you're coming all over yourself - 
aaah, Walter, I wish I could be with you now, feel you, feel your hard dick deep 
in my-"

"Fox. You know I don't do phone sex."

"Aawww, Walter. You didn't even listen to *where* I wanted to feel your dick. 
Spoilsport. I'm hard, Walter. Really very hard. Wanna feel?"

Skinner rolled his eyes.

"Alex is right. You *are* a slut."

"And you love it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." No use denying that; Mulder's velvety purr had already 
stiffened his cock.

"I know. I love you, Walter."

Skinner felt a wide grin breaking through, his first of the day. 
It felt good.

"Love you too, Fox," he said roughly. "Tell Alex I'll call later." 

"If you're still able to," Mulder chuckled. "You really haven't looked at the 
third part yet?"

"No."

"Thought so," Mulder mused. "Only you would have that much self-restraint. Also, 
if you had looked, you'd have killed me already." He laughed.

"Oh God," Skinner said warily. "*Do* I want to know? You didn't do anything 
outside, in the garden, did you?"

"Walter." Mulder sounded slightly hurt. "Would we do such a totally stupid, 
reckless thing?"

"Yes," Skinner sighed, "you would. That's why I'm asking."

"Go and have some fun, lover," Mulder said, amused. "Shoo. And call afterwards - 
if you can."

***********

He showered first, ate some soup and sandwiches, then opened himself another 
nice cool beer and settled down on the couch. He hadn't bothered with a shirt 
tonight, he just wore a pair of comfortable gray sweatpants. Starting the VCR, 
he took a couple of swigs of beer. He sighed blissfully as he enjoyed the cool, 
slightly bitter liquid prickling down his throat.

Then the first image appeared on the screen and Walter Skinner found himself 
spewing the beer all over the table.

Coughing and gasping for air, he stared at the tv.

Mulder had told the truth. They *hadn't* done anything in the garden.

They hadn't even been *near* the garden.

They were in his office.

They were in the office of Assistant Director Walter Skinner, at the fucking J. 
Edgar Hoover Building, Headquarters of the FBI, Washington D.C.

"Oh no..." Skinner buried his face in his hands.

"Walter... hey, Walter... are you with me here?" That was Mulder's voice. 

Obviously, Mulder the Profiler had foreseen his lover's reaction. Skinner looked 
up.

Mulder was sitting at his desk, *his* desk, in *his* chair, playing with the 
"Assistant Director Walter S. Skinner" nameplate. 

And he looked utterly gorgeous.

"I don't believe this," Skinner muttered. Then he stopped the tape, got a cloth 
from the kitchen and mopped the spilled beer up. Didn't bother with another 
bottle, just sat down and started the VCR again.

Mulder was still sitting in the "boss chair", grinning into the camera and 
looking illegally sexy and debauched. Skinner sighed resignedly; his cock was 
stiffening *again*, despite the shock, and Mulder hadn't done anything yet 
besides grin.

The Agent - and that was what Mulder looked like just now, his former self, 
Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI - closed his eyes and licked his lips.

"You know what I've always wanted to do, Walter?" he asked, his voice dropping a 
few levels down into the velvety degrees. "All those years, Walter, every single 
time I sat at your desk with one of those stupid, useless reports, I wanted to 
kneel down at your feet, open your pants, get your dick out and suck you off."

Skinner moaned and let his head fall back against the couch.

Damn, that had been a fantasy of his for years, too. Of course, after they had 
finally had the guts to come out to each other, they had played the old lovers' 
game: When I saw you first, I thought..., when you did that, I wanted... And of 
course they had confessed to each other their secret fantasies of having sex in 
Skinner's or the basement office.

But... seeing Mulder actually sitting at *his* desk, in *his* chair, beautiful, 
hot and horny, made Skinner ravenous.

Mulder smiled,licked his lips again and slowly unknotted his garish tie. Skinner 
wondered where his lover had found that one; he hadn't worn those gruesome 
patterns since he had left the FBI and become an author. With a swishing sound, 
Mulder pulled the tie off and opened the buttons of his shirt.

Slowly.

Skinner sighed.

He knew damn well how Mulder's slow, sensual strips could drive a man out of his 
mind. Or, more truthfully, drive a man's mind out through the tip of his cock.
Mulder opened his shirt, revealing his nicely defined chest, and raked his 
fingernails through the light brown hair. Leaned his head back against the black 
leather of the chair, took one finger in his mouth and began to suck.

Skinner's cock answered with a fierce twitch.

Mulder stuck his tongue out and made a production of licking and wetting the 
tips of his fingers very thoroughly.

Skinner's cock began to throb demandingly against the confines of the sweats. He 
ignored it.

Too early. Much too early to touch; Mulder seemed to want to draw this out.

The former Agent looked into the camera from under half closed lids and slid his 
hands over his chest. He teased his nipples with his wet fingers, rolled and 
pinched them until they were dark red and hard. He was breathing through his 
mouth now.

So was Skinner. His own nipples were standing up, envious and demanding the same 
attention. He sighed and gave up. Slowly, he stroked his chest and fondled his 
nubs, slightly pinching and rubbing them. Unfortunately, the nerves there seemed 
to have a direct connection to the tip of his cock. Every touch of his finger on 
a nipple sent a spark down right into his hard-on and made it jolt. 

"You just wait till I get my hands on you," he muttered to the screen. "You 
bastard."

The bastard pulled the shirttails out of his pants. Then he rolled a bit 
backwards with the chair, so that the camera could capture him better, and 
slowly opened his belt.

"Every time you were mad at me, Walter, every time you were reaming me, I wished 
you were *really* reaming me," he said hoarsely, while he pulled the zipper 
down. Krycek had to be behind the camera, because the image zoomed in a bit 
closer. Skinner watched breathlessly as Mulder pulled his hard cock out and 
slowly fisted it. 

"God, every single time you were shouting and bellowing at me, Walter - and 
believe me, you're a great bellower, I have witnesses all over the Hoover who 
could clearly hear you even in the most remote toilet stall - every time you 
shouted at me, I just wanted you to fuck me stupid. Or to fuck you stupid, 
whatever."

Mulder moaned as he massaged the clear liquid that oozed out of his slit slowly 
around the cockhead.

"You don't know how often I had to jerk off after those meetings with you, just 
to avoid coming back to Scully with a raging hard-on. She used to wonder about 
my shiny eyes and flushed face. I always told her I was just mad at you because 
you were such a mean bastard." 

He grinned and licked his lower lip.

Skinner wanted that tongue on his cock. *Now.*

Mulder's strokes increased, his voice became more breathless.

"Remember the case in Nebraska, when I ditched Scully and came back with nothing 
except a crashed car and a sprained ankle? Remember how mad you were? How you 
shouted at me? God, Walter, you were *so* hot, so sexy, I could have gone down 
on you the moment you began to holler. You know what I was thinking for a 
moment?"

Mulder arched back in the chair and closed his eyes, licking his lips again. 

Skinner stared at the shiny, lush mouth and thought of the last time Mulder had 
sucked him off. Remembered how Mulder would nibble along his lover's 
heart-shaped cockhead, the feeling of those hot, lush lips on his own 
oversensitive dick.

He groaned and closed a hot fist around his dick. Gazed at Mulder blissfully 
jacking off and matched his lover's strokes on his own cock.

Mulder groaned, too, as if in answer. He looked into the camera and flushed a 
bit.

"I thought you were going to pull your belt out and whip my ass." 

Skinner hissed and tried not to come. He succeeded. Just. Damn, that was such a 
hot image...they would have to talk about a few things when his guys were back.

"And you know what, Walter? I *wanted* you to do it. I really wanted to. I 
jacked off three times that night just on the image of you with a belt in your 
hand. God, Walter, you make me crazy, you make me so horny--"

"Oh fuck," Skinner moaned. He was very close now, his cock felt like a hot iron 
in his hand.

It cost him a lot in self-restraint not to stroke himself to release right now.
He heard a groan from behind the camera.

"God, Fox. Don't come, babe. Don't come, hear me?"

Mulder looked past the camera with glazed eyes. His hand on his leaking cock 
stilled, the angry purple of the glistening head shimmered.

"Too late," he sobbed. His eyes rolled back, he arched up, and the cock in his 
hand began to jerk. White creamy strands flew all over the shining surface of 
Skinner's desk. Mulder bit his lip and fervently tried to remain silent, which 
seemed to intensify the force of his orgasm.

Skinner dimly heard Krycek swear in the background as his own climax surprised 
the hell out of him. While a raging pleasure seemed to explode all over his body 
and a sudden hot wetness coated his stomach and chest, he saw white drops 
running down the lamp and the nameplate on his desk. Mulder's low keening sounds 
forced a new wave of shuddering lust out of him.

Panting and gasping, he looked at the screen at a likewise breathless Mulder. 
His lover grinned weakly into the camera, waved and croaked, "Cut."

Skinner fell back on the couch, grabbed the remote with a trembling hand and 
pressed the "Pause" button. The image blurred and froze.

"Damn," he breathed. "I'm getting too old for this."

He lay for a few minutes more until he had his wits back, then got up with a 
grunt. On the screen, a hazy, slightly distorted Mulder still sat frozen with 
his hand in the air. Skinner smiled and pressed "Stop". He was sure there was 
more, they wouldn't miss the opportunity to get Krycek off without sharing it.

But first he wanted a shower. No matter what came next, he knew he wouldn't get 
it up again tonight for a second orgasm. He was too beat. He'd just enjoy the 
sight of his guys screwing each other stupid and then go to bed. His last night 
alone.

Smiling at that thought, he took a brief shower and helped himself to another 
beer as he returned to the couch. He felt lazy and relaxed, but lonely. Hot and 
enticing as the video was, he missed Mulder and Krycek terribly. And the nice 
thing was, they seemed to miss him, too. He found he was extemely touched, 
almost uncomfortably so, by the thought, by the amount of work they had put into 
that video. When the hell had they found the time to do that?

And when had they been in his office? He fervently hoped that his rooms at the 
Hoover weren't bugged - but then, if they were, the shit would have hit the fan 
already. And he trusted his guys - they both were paranoid and meticulous enough 
to take all precautions.

He pushed the "Play" button and only shook his head as he saw Mulder standing at 
the conference table.

"I didn't exactly plan to come twice tonight, you know, Walter. I hope I can get 
it up a second time," the former Agent grinned into the camera. Skinner merely 
snorted. Yeah, right.

When it came to sex, Mulder was the Energizer Bunny in their relationship. He 
seemed to want to make up for all the lonely years with no or only occasional 
sex. He was permanently horny.

He could stand in a breeze and get a stiffie.

"But then... the incentive is rather irresistable," Mulder continued. He 
stretched his hand out.

"Come here, lover."

And Alex stepped in front of the camera.

Skinner swallowed.

Blinked.

Felt his cock twitch.

Oh. God.

Alex looked like... like the young Agent he had been when he had joined the FBI. 

When he had first reported to Skinner. Sure, his face didn't have that boyish 
roundness anymore, and his hair was shorter today, he looked much more mature... 
but he had combed his hair with gel and wore one of those terrible Brooks 
Brothers suits he had worn back then, together with a tie that was at least an 
eight on the Mulder scale.

He looked sweet, young, innocent and totally edible.

Mulder slid his left hand from behind around Krycek's waist, his right grabbed 
into the sable hair before him. He pulled Krycek's head back and exposed the 
marble neck to the camera.

Nipped behind his lover's ear.

Krycek gave a purring sound and grinned at Skinner, his eyes half closed.

"So, Walter," Mulder continued, "here's another fantasy... this sweet young 
Agent, our beautiful prince... you wanted him, didn't you? You wanted to fuck 
his brains out from the first moment you laid eyes on him. Wanna hear why I know 
that?"

Skinner snorted again. He *knew* why Mulder knew. He had told them. In one of 
those long velvety nights, when they had lain in each other's arms after the 
most exquisite and mindblowing sex. All three of them had confessed where and 
when they had been attracted to whom. It had been both hilarious and sad - to 
see all the wasted years, all the lost opportunities.

So, Mulder knew. But then, this was a game, and Mulder could well pretend 
Skinner didn't know why he had wanted Krycek from the first minute.

"Because," Mulder said, and ground his hips into Krycek's ass, "because I wanted 
him, too. He came into my office and I wanted to fuck him stupid. That's why."

Skinner wriggled a bit on the couch.

Mulder grabbed Krycek's shoulders and shoved him around, so that he faced the 
conference table. Krycek was most willing; he bent over and stuck his ass out to 
Mulder with a blissful grin, licking his lips expectantly. Skinner could see his 
image in the shining surface of the big table. He had a nice view of his lovers 
from the right now. He shook his head - he would never be able to look at his 
office the same again.

Mulder reached around Krycek's hips and opened his belt and zipper with 
practiced movements.

He shoved pants and briefs down together and fondled the firm white globes of 
his lover's ass.

"Oooh yeah," he sighed. "This is such a hot ass, don't you think, Walter?"

Skinner absolutely thought so. So did his cock, obviously, for it jerked happily 
in the sweatpants. Skinner stroked it briefly through the cotton and found it 
semi-erect, but didn't do anything more.

Krycek wriggled his hips. His stiff heavy cock swung like a pendulum.

"Are you gonna do something about my 'hot ass' or are you planning on 
worshipping all night?", he complained. Mulder chuckled.

"Right here, babe. Right here," he crooned. Quickly, he opened his zipper and 
took out his hard-on.

"Is that what you wanted to do, Walter?", he asked into the camera, slowly 
stroking his erection. "Bend him over the table and shove your dick up his 
wonderful, sexy ass, up to the hilt?"

Skinner moaned. Shit, but that was exactly what he had wanted to do when Krycek 
had entered his office for the first time. Bend the young man over and fuck him 
into next *month*. He had already been in love with Mulder then, and he had 
fallen for Krycek right away.

He still couldn't believe his luck. Not only had he gotten Mulder, but Krycek, 
too, a bit later. Being in love with two men was crazy enough, especially for a 
high-ranking G-Man, but he had gotten all two of them to share his life. *And* 
they loved him back. Which was difficult for him to believe, even today.

An ecstatic groan and a "Ssshhhh!" pulled him out of his reverie. Mulder had 
done exactly what he had just said: he had shoved his dick up Krycek's 
wonderful, sexy ass, up to the hilt.

Krycek rested his forehead on his arms and pushed eagerly back at Mulder. 

Skinner stared, transfixed. God, what a sight. Krycek, his pants in a puddle 
around his feet, his ass and legs gleaming in the light of the desk lamp. Behind 
him, Mulder, completely dressed with just his cock out, knees slightly bent, 
gripping his lover's hips hard, head thrown back in blissful abandon, his mouth 
half open, his eyes closed, thrusting into Krycek with increasing speed.

Skinner sighed and lazily stroked his cock. He would never get tired of watching 
those two, they were incredibly beautiful.

He heard Mulder gasp, then the lanky figure bent over Krycek's back, bit hard 
into his lover's shoulder and convulsed, jerking his hips hard into the ass 
before him. Krycek gave a keening mew. Mulder chuckled, panting, straightened up 
and pulled the Russian up with him. He grabbed around, still inside that 
marvellous ass, and gave Krycek's dick two hard strokes.

Krycek's body strained like a bowstring, his face contorted, then, with a long 
low groan, he rhythmically shot creamy white streaks over the conference table. 
They glistened brightly against the dark wood. 

"Oh God," Krycek croaked.

"Yeah," Mulder sighed and pulled slowly out, still suporting his wobbly lover.

"Yeah," Skinner breathed, giving his hard cock a sympathetic squeeze.

He watched Krycek glide limply into a chair, grinning into the camera like a 
sated Cheshire Cat.

"I think we're going to pay you a little visit in your office next week, Big," 
Mulder said fondly, and Skinner sighed resignedly. No matter how much his lovers 
would wear him out this coming weekend - and they would do their best to love 
him to death - no matter how wrung out he'd arrive at his office on Monday 
morning, he knew that the mere sight of his desk and the conference table would 
give him a hard-on.

Like the one he had just now. He briefly considered doing something about it. 

But... no. The edge was off, he would keep those happy thoughts for tomorrow.

They would make a real love-fest out of this weekend, Skinner promised himself 
as he picked up the phone, smiling, to call his guys.

***THE END***