You Always Hurt The Ones You Love

Part One

Remy absently traced the number 3 tattoo that graced his right temple as he leaned one elbow against a knee. He watched the crowds, the one surrounding him and the one below at the foot of the stairs looking like a busy ant pile.

He had called Alex Krycek to meet him here where he had challenged him over a pay phone. If he showed then he had accepted it. A busy mall. An opponent he had not yet challenged, not yet got to know, but had only seen in the audiences of busy basements or warehouses. Today and tomorrow he planned to get the man real good. Real good.

He was partly fighting anxiety. He had waited too long to act on his feelings and instincts and now this Alex Krycek had become something of an obsession, something that a young girl might call a crush. Remy LeBeau did not have "crushes", yet he had trouble keeping his index finger from twitching as it traced the slightly raised tattoo on his temple.

Remy turned, seeing a familiar appearance of black jeans and leather in his peripheral vision. He waited for the man to approach closer, the crowded mall much too noisy to speak and be heard unless within touching distance.

"So, monsieur Krycek, y' accept my challenge. Dis pleases me." He flashed his trademark grin and offered his hand in greeting.

"Mr. LeBeau." With no wasted movement, Alex Krycek shook Remy's hand, noting the Cajun accent and already assessing his opponent's potential weaknesses. His left artificial one stayed stiffly at his side. A one armed assassin was considered a liability by many, but the fact that he was still alive five years after the arm's loss was a testament to his skills. He had survived the Consortium, alien possession, crude amputation, and various beatings by one time allies and enemies. By comparison most times the fights he fought were boring.

It was the artificial arm that had lead him to the underground fighting ring. The rewards could be astounding. Unable to trust any cure or cloned arm the Consortium might provide with their purloined alien technology, Krycek had been forced to search for alternatives. And the rumors of medical technology that could replace the crude mechanical hand had been enough for him to submit to a tattoo of a 42 next to his right earlobe.

"So," Krycek said, sharp green eyes taking in LeBeau. He hadn't seen this man's fighting style yet, which was a disadvantage. But Krycek had an uncanny knack for turning disadvantages into golden opportunities. Defeating him would be a challenge that Krycek was looking forward to, and would bring him one step closer to his goal. "When shall we get it on?"

Remy smirked. Alex Krycek's stiff stance, measuring attitude and all-business personality spoke volumes. He was in it for the benefits, not for the kink. Remy wasn't in it for the benefits, as a thief he had enough to back himself up whenever he chose. He was in it for the social 'aspects'. And it gave him something to do.

Remy produced two plane tickets. "If y' t'ink y' can wait a few hours, we shall get it on in the Arizona desert at 2 PM." Remy added a wink to that smirk planted on his face and turned to lead the way.

The air port wasn't far so Remy took the sidewalks, taking the extra time to see if all-business personality would open up a bit more. He was weathered, Remy knew that from past audiences when he had watched Alex and ignored the fight. He was also mysterious and constantly cloaked. Remy itched to scratch past those facades, tear the man down until he was raw, and human, and unable to hide.

"Mind if I ask about de arm?" Remy kept his voice a bit low, uncertain he should be asking personal questions so soon.

Krycek's response was equally low. "Yes." It had been all Fox Mulder's fault. He had been working towards getting them out of the camp when the impatient special agent had pulled the great escape, leaving him alone in the forrest. Or until the one armed men had found them. Thinking they were saving him from the horrors of medical experimentation (experimentation he had helped set up), they had rescued him the only way they knew how. They removed the smallpox vaccination scar with its tracking genetic marker by removing his left arm.

They were surprised at his ingratitude. And even more surprised when he returned with soldiers from the camp who eliminated them with extreme prejudice.

Although he used it to his advantage now. People saw the artificial arm and underestimated him. But they didn't make that mistake twice. And his anger at both the misguided peasants and Fox Mulder had fueled more than one of his victories. LeBeau vaguely resembled Mulder by a stretch of the imagination, but it would be enough for him to work with.

Remy perked a brow. Though he wasn't sure what else he had expected, more and more this man was resembling Scott and Logan. Strong, silent... and annoying the hell out of Remy with that attitude. He had broken Logan's shell though, and he was rubbing his mental hands together in glee at another challenge.

Cutting across a well-worm path in the middle of a grassy median the silence was grating into Remy's ears. He had never been one to stay silent for long, a minor weakness of his was that busy mouth on his pretty face.

"Cajun moon, nugget of gold, river of light on the bayou ..." He trailed off, humming the rest of the chorus before breaking out his deck of cards. "Y' like games, monsieur Krycek?" He expected another short answer, and had another short question ready for the blurting.

Pulled out of his thought of exactly how he was going to get past the security checkpoint with his weapons still on him, Krycek let out a sardonic chuckle. "Would I be playing this one if I didn't?" That was what had lead him partially to become a double agent. It was all a game if you looked at it the right way - he was nothing more than an actor in a role that could mutate or be shed at a moment's notice. But remember exactly who he was when he stepped away from the stage was getting harder and harder to do.

He eyed the cards LeBeau was fanning, wondering if they were marked. His deck would be. If the man did cheat, all the more excuse to make certain that he won the upcoming fight. A game of cards was definitely sounding like the best way to pass the time until their flight. "What did you have in mind? Poker?"

Remy laughed. "I fear de game o' poker preferred by dis cajun ain't allowed on public flights. But we can make do wit' de regular sort o' poker if y' insist." Crossing a two-lane street full of parked cars and into the large doors of the airport.

"Perfect timing," Remy glanced at the wall full of clocks. Their flight was due off the ground 5 minutes ago. Without luggage, and with friends in the friendly skies, Remy led Krycek right up to the main gate for the flight. "Merci, petite." A small kiss for the red head and he strolled down the long aisle to where it jointed with their plane.

First class, luxury 'family' seats that faced one another, and right next to the windows. Remy buckled in and glanced up and across the roomy, but small, floor between them. "Comfy, Poker?"

As he buckled the safety belt, Alex had to admit he was impressed with how they had gotten on the plane. And flying first class certainly beat some of the ways he had traveled. Although the time he had parachuted into the remote mountains would have been fun if he hadn't been worried about being shot on sight by the Cigarette Smoking Bastard...

Lowering the tray table, he gestured to his soon to be opponent. "Go ahead and deal." It would give him time to watch him move. Which Alex had to admit as well that LeBeau was easy on the eyes.

Remy smirked and shrugged one shoulder, cards expertly shuffled in one hand and dealt out in three breaths.

This was one card game he couldn't take seriously, the stupid tray was blocking Remy of what he had known would be a fine view of Alex' abdomen and crotch, restrained by a secure belt... Man wore those pants about as tight as his X suite.

"So what we playing fo? Favor in de fight, or after de fight. Or...?" He opened his cards in a fan, caressing each with a finger tip to straighten them in their neat row.

"A freeze?" A freeze usually standing for when an opponent was forced to stand for any given amount of time and take what came at him without defense.

"You do like high stakes, Remy." Alex watched his hands knowingly handle the cards. It didn't take much of a stretch of the imagination to think what else they could knowingly handle.

Alex had to force his mind away from that pleasant speculation. "Shall we say...five minutes to be called at the winner's discretion?" That was the customary time for a freeze. Any longer and the fight would only be a fight in name. The point was to prove your toughness, not to just beat the crap out of an unresisting opponent. The person calling the freeze could employ a little strategy - either call it right away to break their combatant, or save it for when he needed to regain the upper hand.

Remy turned a knowing tip-of-the-mouth smile back to his cards, "Ain't no stakes if dey aren't high, mon ami. Five minutes at de winner's discretion it is."

"Petite," he stopped a passing flight attendant with a hand to her elbow. "Y' know what I like. An' bring Monsieur Krycek what he desire."

Remy went back to studying his hand, eliminating three cards and drawing three more. The flight attendant cast a smile towards Alex. "Will you be having anything, sir? Open bar."

"Vodka on the rocks." He hoped that they were serving a proper Russian brand and not the swill that most American bars served. Glancing over his hand, he discarded one and drew another. And it was hard to keep a straight face as he looked at the straight flush he was holding. Lady Luck was definitely smiling on him today.

For a moment, he debated asking if LeBeau wanted to raise the stakes even more. But it wouldn't do to press his luck too much. With a slight smirk, he revealed his cards, confident that he had the higher hand.

Remy returned the smirk, though kept his hand until his drink and Krycek's appeared beneath their noses by a silent whisper of air and perfume. Laying his hand out revealed a flush of lower card value, it was then that his smirk faded, though good humor still shone in his red eyes.

"Be careful wit' dat game face mon ami, I might try it on." He gathered his pack of cards, absently shuffling and flipping with his right hand while he undid his seat belt to kick back a bit more (the plane already well above the clouds). Reaching one leg out he tipped Krycek's tray table back up into it's wall slot.

"Vodka, I would have known." He studied Krycek's face for a moment. "It good?"

Krycek took a slip of his drink, his eyes closing in bliss as proper Stolichnaya Vodka slid over his tongue. "Excellent. Almost as good as the stuff you get in St. Petersburg." He wouldn't be able to drink too much of it. He'd need his wits about him since he intended to win the upcoming fight and claim his prize. And maybe something more, he thought, bright green eyes studying LeBeau's handsome face, something more.

*zzzzziiiiizzzzzzzziiiiiiiiizzzzzziiiiiiiiip* (fast forward)

Remy stretched tall and slightly out like he owned the world, like he was God's own gift to His creations, like a lion just finishing a meal... like Remy, as he walked out of the Arizona air port and into a blistering heated breeze.

Now to find a piece of desert they could fight in peace amongst. Remy walked out into traffic and threw up a hand for a taxi. Why no ask the experts of the town.

"City limits?" When the man nodded Remy sat back in the seat. This time not so stretched out as he felt the heat absorbing all thoughts but two: 'fightgrinfight', and 'coldcoldcold-itisnothotitiscold! fuckwhatwasithinking...'

Finally giving in to need to slip off his jacket, Krycek was thinking that black leather and denim had not been the best choice. It was an oven out there, something that would quickly sap their strength unless they found a shady place. But where there was shade there was usually people, so fighting under the hot sun was looking likely.

Or maybe not. "Are there any ghost towns nearby?" he asked the driver. Although some were marketed for tourists, he had remembered seeing some when passing through areas up further north towards the Nevada border.

Clever man. Glad he had left his trench coat on his bed at 'home' Remy wondered why people came here to live at all.

After the driver nodded and named off a few that "would take a bit" to get to Remy grinned. "Maybe Alaska woulda been a better choice, non?" And after this stifling heat, he'd gladly return to those harsh hands of yearly winter.

"Been to Canada, up near the border" Krycek mentioned, a humorous glint in his green eyes. "We'd be complaining about freezing our balls off instead."

"Say, mon ami about dat 'gon' take a while' bus'ness, I t'ink y' and me both want outa dis heat as soon as possible. Green house effect an all?" He slipped a wad of cash that wasn't his over the seat, rewarded by a suddenly lead foot from the driver.

Alex leaned back in the seat of the car, smiling smugly. He found himself really liking Remy. This man definitely knew how to get things done. Had they met under different circumstances, they could have been good friends. There was nothing saying they couldn't be either, after the business at hand was completed.

The cab sped onward past the city limits for about half an hour. Eventually they pulled off the main freeway onto a dusty side road. Another fifteen minutes lead them to a stand of abandoned and crumbling buildings that looked like no one had lived in them since the fifties. He allowed a small grin of approval. This was exactly what he had in mind.

Remy grinned. This definitely had some qualities and advantages he looked forward to exploring. A little hide and seek, a little taunt and play, and definitely some broken walls from a few bruised backs... He headed for some shade, ignoring the cliche warm breeze that pushed a bouncing tumble weed across his path.

"Y' ready podna?" His tee shirt was loose and untucked but he was still feeling the heavy sun bearing down on him. He quickly rolled the short sleeves up past his shoulder and to the neck line. Ready for business he took something of a relaxed stance, waiting to see what position Krycek took.

Having paid the cab driver and watched him drive off, Krycek also took a deceptively relaxed stance, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet. In the direct sun, he was definitely rethinking wearing all black. But unlike Remy, he didn't roll up his sleeves. Now it was time to get down to business and see what he was made of.

"Yeah, I'm ready. You?" Without warning, Alex bolted forward, leading with his right arm in a vicious punch aimed at Remy's jaw.

Remy had dodged bullets in the rain before (or at least it was rumored). The heat, he mused as he took the punch, must be slowing his senses to some dyeing crawl.

"Dat was nasty homme," as he crouched and swung a leg straight out at Krycek's knees. "Let de face be." As Krycek went down under his feet he aimed a fist at his abdomen. Gawd, sculpted, rock hard...

Alex grunted as he landed on his ass, and let out a loud 'oof' as Remy's fist impacted on his stomach. Instead of trying to shirk from the blow, he took it, his good right hand snaking out to catch his opponent's wrist. He kicked up with his legs, catching Remy in the stomach. But instead of a solid kick, it was a shove, sending the mutant flying over his body. And his legs didn't stop. He rolled over, regaining his feet, almost instantly turning around, looking for Remy.

Remy rolled once he hit the ground, gathered his legs beneath him and launched himself at the recovering Krycek. "Guess I'm jus' head over heels fo y'," he grinned, sending a leg flying at Krycek's chest and a fist full of dirt at his face.

His opponent was good, and Remy's attitude was infectious. Or he had inadvertently picked up Mulder's habit of making wry comments. "Now don't fight dirty." Krycek had meant to deflect the kick, twisting Remy's leg as the mutant fell to the ground. But his timing was off as he missed the grab and the kick landed a glancing blow to his chest. It was still enough to knock the wind out of Krycek and drop him to the ground. Alex landed on his left side, jarring the artificial arm slightly loose.

Remy landed standing akimbo over Alex' face, bending his knees he sat hard on the man's chest. Taking his chin in one hand he squeezed and turned Krycek's face towards him. "Y' don' wanna see me fight dirty." He had left all cards, knives, and mutant powers back home. But a hand full of charged dirt, even Krycek's own shirt could become a weapon at one touch.

Grabbing at an arm, and forgetting about the prosthetic (Krycek fought well without out, Remy really had let slip his mind), he jerked as he stood, planning on sending Krycek for a painful dislocation of wrist or shoulder. Instead he himself was sent backpedaling, plastic wrist still within his grip.

Scratching his head he smirked. "I *had* thought about beatin' y' over de back wit' dis..."

"Sukin syn [son of a bitch]!"* he exploded as soon as he caught his breath and rolled to his knees, his good hand reaching for his left shoulder. If there was one thing you didn't do, it was mess with Krycek's prosthetic limb. Although he hated it at times, it was still a badge of pride in a way. Weaknesses got you killed in his profession, and so his survival was a testament to his skills. But he couldn't attack Remy without risking damage to the limb...

An evil smile crossed his face. "Freeze, ubl'yudok [bastard]." Leisurely, he climbed to his feet and walked towards Remy with a deceptive casualness. And when he was face to face with the man, Alex punched him in the gut, catching the prosthetic as it fell from suddenly nerveless fingers.

Remy wasn't making any jokes now, there was something about Krycek's smile that wasn't right. He had gone too far. "Uhf!" As he took the punch. Bending with the force of it, strands of auburn falling across his eyes.

Looking up with quiet expectancy Remy slowly straightened back up. So the arm was off limits. He wondered if he could get the man to slip up, or open up, about it. Though now wasn't the time to go questioning and it suddenly didn't seem so funny any more.

The stone cold mask of the assassin was back on Krycek's face after that flaring of temper. "Do not touch the arm," he gritted out. Truth be told, he was disgusted at his loss of temper, of letting personal emotions getting in the way. It had happened before. And for a split second, he was back in the forest in Tunguska, watching the peasants pull away his flesh and blood after cutting through the bone with a white hot knife. And in that fraction of a second he got angry, he let his emotions get control, he got sloppy, and he made mistakes. Usually very painful ones. That was something he couldn't afford to do now.

But there was a new problem. Most of the advantage of the freeze was gone. It would take him three minutes to reattach the arm in its shoulder harness. Three minutes he had wanted to use to gain the upper hand on Remy. He could leave the arm detached, but that would risk it being used as a club against him. He needed the sense of balance it provided as well. Tucking it under his left stump, Alex started to pull up his shirt sleeve, revealing the straps that held the prosthetic in place. "What? No jokes about me being unarmed?" he asked with grim humor.

Remy shook his head 'no' with a small smile. Man reminded him of Logan who could go from murderous rage into cracking bad puns in under a second. Almost bipolar in one sense. Something that always made it fun, pushing buttons just to see what they did.

Watching him begin to reattach it Remy bit his lower lip. That would buy him baking-in-the-sun time. He could feel the heat even waving up through the ground into his boot-like shoes. He could feel every bead of sweat on his body when he closed his eyes and truly concentrated.

He was right. It did take about three minutes for him to get the arm back into place and strapped in. While not exactly rattled to have an audience, it was still disconcerting. Arm firmly back in place, Krycek glanced at the watch on his right wrist. Only one precious minute of the freeze left before LeBeau would be free to move.

Time to get to work then.

Without mercy, Krycek moved in, landing a fierce kick to Remy's stomach, which was followed by a sucker punch to the gut. Although it was tempting to get a little pay back, Krycek still honored the earlier request to leave his face alone. Besides, it would be a sin to bruise something so pretty...

Remy gritted his teeth, keeping the grunts down to mere hisses or escaped air between clenched teeth and bared lips. Hit after kick after punch... he had been disappointed when he realized his mistake in accidentally tearing the arm off and losing (or gaining?) 4 minutes of the freeze. He wondered if Krycek was making up for lost time or if this is what he would have dealt out either way.

He didn't feel the bloody gashes as concentration lay in standing as still as the brutish attack would allow. As the mental countdown he threw his body into a right-then-left punch at Krycek's lower abdomen, a clenched-teeth growl from his throat escaping. He could feel and see the red gashes on his skin and clothes then. He chose to ignore them.

The man could take a beating with the best of them. And rebound from one, Krycek thought as the blows impacted. He earned Krycek's respect. Spun around from the force of the punches, Krycek stomped on LeBeau's instep before viciously swinging his elbow back, intending to catch the mutant in the gut.

There had been times that he wondered why Mulder was always beating him up with it was obvious that he'd rather be beating him off. And Krycek was finding himself starting to understand that mindset. The scent of blood, sweat and testosterone in the air was getting to him as he locked his leg behind Remy, intending to sweep him off his feet with a backward jerk of his foot. The move, bringing them too close for effective punches, put them chest to chest and groin to groin Staring into those oddly attractive red eyes, suddenly the prospect of losing didn't seem to be such a bad thing to Krycek.

For a second Remy found himself returning the stare into Krycek's deep pools of emerald. Then, never one to think before leaping, he pressed his mouth against Krycek's. Not waiting for his mouth to open but prying it open and sweeping his tongue in against his.

There was never enough time for fun, Remy mentally pouted at the possibly dangerous move he had just made. Pulling away before Krycek could do something nasty (or pleasing?) he simultaneously pushed his hips against Krycek's and brought his head and chest back to slam his forehead into Krycek's.

Krycek stumbled back a few steps, but caught his balance before could tip over, disoriented slightly by the blow to the head and the kiss (he wasn't sure more by which). Now he wanted more than ever to win, to claim his prize and feel those lips wrapped around his cock. Forget the rumored technology to regrow his amputated limb. Right now he'd be more than happy to claim LeBeau.

But first that meant winning the fight, hopefully quickly. Using his long legs to an advantage, he delivered a roundhouse kick, trying to catch Remy under his arms. If Krycek could get him on the ground, it would be easier for him to continue fighting. Not to mention claim his prize.

Despite a slight onset of 'wooziness' from the heat Remy's reflexes still held true, catching the flying ankle heading his way. Using the momentum Krycek had already given the kick he twisted both his arms and torso to send Krycek onto the dusty Arizona dirt.

Straddling the man's thigh he sent a fist into his ribs. He swayed a bit there before aiming another fist a few inches above his crotch, into the bladder.

Alex let out a loud 'oof,' with each blow reverberating through his back. Fortunately for him, Remy had knocked him over onto his right side, so he was able to lever it underneath him. Praying his bladder didn't let go and embarrass him, he arched back rapidly, slamming the back of his head into Remy's forehead. It knocked the other man back far enough so Krycek could roll onto his back and land a solid kick to Remy's chest, knocking his opponent clear of his legs.

Remy went sprawling backwards, flat on his back. Embarrassed at the slight onset of dehydration he wondered how long before it finally did him in. He hoped Krycek did him in before the wooziness could though.

Bringing his legs up over his head he then slammed them back down and whipped his spine simultaneously to bring him back into a crouch. A crouch that involved one hand to steady his vision before realizing he was being much too slow...

Alex had scrambled to his feet. He was starting to feel the effects of dehydration as well. He was sweating profusely, blinking it out of his eyes almost constantly. But he couldn't afford to pause to wipe it away. It had been a while since he had fought an opponent so well matched to him, and wasn't about to show Remy another weakness to exploit.

It was time to end this before the sun got to both of them. He could see that LeBeau was off balance, and Krycek was, if nothing else, and opportunist. Interlacing his fingers with the ones of his artificial hand, he swung his arms down club like to land two blows on Remy's back, one on each kidney.

The first blow sent Remy to his knees. The second sent him to the ground, palms burning on the sand and arms slightly shaking as he tried to hold himself up and throat burning as he gasped for air. Part of him still wanted to kick ass, but his mind was having trouble turning over all that kicking ass required. With a painful grunt he gave up and let himself fall at Krycek's feet, smelling blood, dirt, sweat, and defeat.

Part Two

It felt strangely comfortable, laying in the dirt and not moving one muscle as he waited for Krycek's decision in the next second. Mother Earth held him, cradled and rocked him as his mind swam with thoughts of the fight, his wounds, defeat... Krycek, who he had adored for far too long from too far away... until now as he actually lay at his feet.

Panting, Krycek, ever distrustful, watched Remy carefully, expecting another trick. Realizing that the mutant was conceding defeat, he let out a sigh and and finally wiped the sweat away from his forehead. Now it was time to claim his prize. And despite the bruises and blood, it was still a very attractive prize.

Reaching down with his right hand, he started to jerk Remy to his feet. "Get up," he grunted. "We're not going to be doing this out here in the sun." That was part of why he had chosen a ghost town. At least some of the ruined buildings would provide comfortable shade.

Remy obeyed, struggling to his feet and allowing Krycek to half-lead, half-tow him towards one of the buildings. His mind briefly turned onto the buildings... if this was a tourist attraction surely... bingo! He smiled as they entered the ancient hotel/bar, where a modern water-bottle vending machine shone like some angel was shining a beam from heaven onto it.

Despite his exhaustion Remy suddenly stood straight and hollered a 'hallelujah!' before smacking the side of the giant box. It was plugged in, but no lights in or on it shone. Shrugging, Remy leaned against the door where the thick lock was camouflaged. A few twists of one of his lock pins and the door thonked open. Water, meet your guzzlers.

Tossing Krycek a warm bottle he took one himself. A few gulps later and he was running the back of his hand over his mouth, eyeing Krycek with open hunger.

Krycek immediately popped off the lid of the bottle, and swallowed half of it in one long gulp. He made a mental note that Remy could pick a lock neatly and efficiently. He never knew when information like that could come in handy. He also noted the lustful look on Remy's face. Although common for the winner to have his way with the loser, it was rare for the loser to actually want it. And although Krycek was many things, he wasn't a rapist. The fact that LeBeau was practically panting after him was adding a pleasant bonus to the situation. This was going to be more fun than he'd had in a while.

Leaning back against the wall, he took a deliberately casual pose. But there was little casual about his voice. "Start stripping," he ordered, letting his lust shine through his eyes.

Remy sat the bottle of water aside. He always loved an audience, though it was a tad intimidating and... unnerving to have it be Krycek. Still, he made the best of it, and hoped he pleased as he began moving. Slowly.

The shirt went first as he rolled his shoulders, piercing eyes never leaving Krycek. Biting his lower lip, partly for the act and partly from the pain that moving caused, his hands moved up his own shirt until it went over his head and was dropped without a second thought.

His spine and hips came into play now, painstakingly running his hands down his sculpted chest and lithe abdomen.

Slowly, holding back hisses as he hit the painful cuts, trails of smeared blood appeared after his hard-pressing palms ran over a few of the more serious wounds.

Meeting his pivoting, twisting hips, strong hands tucked into the tight seams below his belly button. Mouth slackened, eye brows lowered and a look of promising bliss caught his face as his eyes bored into the audience.

He moved closer to Krycek now, his body never quitting and eyes never breaking that intense stare. Standing mere inches away from the man his look into that face was that close to a challenge, head tilted, mouth open and threatening to devour Krycek as the sound of his hands popping the button and zipper to his own jeans was heard.

Too soon he pulled away again, hands and the actions he was putting his body through loosening the tight jeans and sending them falling to the floor. The loose shorts weren't far behind.

Stripped, and forgetting about the shoes, Remy slowed and then halted his body. Standing nude and vulnerable in front of the man he had dreamt of for months.

His stance was relaxed but his heart and breath were difficult to control as he panted slightly through parted lips. One hand 'rested' low on one thigh, the other pressed with splayed fingers a few inches above his twitching crotch. Shoulders shifted and angled the opposite of his cocked hips as his gaze nearly faltered, suddenly feeling a bit too human and exposed.

Krycek, for the most part, kept his casual pose leaning against the wall, bottle of water cradled by his left arm. But his eyes, as well as other parts had been paying very close attention. Pushing away from the wall, he walked in a slow circle around LeBeau, inspecting him closely from all angles. He frowned when he saw the lacerations on his stomach and back where his kicks had landed - there must have been a piece of glass caught in his boots.

Krycek completed his circuit, coming back to face Remy. "Now," he mused out loud. "What to do with you. Aside from the obvious, that is." The bulge in his skin tight jeans was very pronounced. Remy had fought well, picked the lock well, and it was now time to see what other talents the man had.

The sound of Krycek undoing his zipper was unnaturally loud even for being in an abandoned building. With one arm of flesh and one arm of plastic, he wasn't nearly as graceful as Remy had been. But still aware of those odd red eyes (he'd have to ask about them when he got the chance) on him, he did manage to put on a bit of a show as he shimmied out of his skin tight black jeans and underwear. The shirt stayed on, covering the shoulder and prosthetic harness.

Krycek's right hand shot out, fingers tangling in the lustrous locks at the back of Remy's head. He pulled the other man into a fierce, claiming kiss so that Remy would know for certain exactly who was in charge for the moment. Not that he thought the other man would object, but it was part of Krycek's dominance ritual.

Remy was under no illusions who was top dog, who had won the fight and who got to do the ordering. Who he was reeling for.

As Krycek lay claim to his mouth he bent his knees and angled his neck so Krycek was hovering over him even as Remy's tongue expertly handled the searing kiss delivered to him.

Even bitter Rogue would recognize that for what it was. A display of submission, lower-rank... trust and respect... honor... loyalty...

Yes, Remy was just as talented at kissing as he was in the other skills he had shown. Krycek's right hand loosened off his neck and slid a deliberately sensuous path to his shoulder. The rub of bare skin against bare skin was delightful, as was the feel of his cock pressed against Remy's stomach. When the kiss broke, Alex increased the pressure on his shoulder, forcing Remy to his knees. LeBeau was a smart boy. He'd figure what Alex wanted without too much prompting.

Remy gladly knelt before his obsession, attention immediately on what lay before him. Nostrils flared, inhaling the sweet scent of his Krycek.

Nuzzling the length before him with the side of his cheek, nose, and lips. He felt the throbbing warmth against his face before turning his lips to the side of the head.

Soft, suckling kisses he planted there against the tip of Krycek's erection. Sampling the small drops of pre-cum before opening his mouth and taking him in. Swirling his tongue about the tip, then scrubbing the bottom as he slowly swallowed the length.

Alex sucked his breath in sharply, his eyes fluttering shut. Partially for balance, partially just so he could feel him, Krycek rested a hand on Remy's head. He didn't need to guide the other man at all. Just like he suspected, Remy was *very* talented. Most defeated opponents would blow him to get it over with and onto the next fight. Not this one, who seemed to be relishing every moment. It had been a while since he had been with a man who was as...enthusiastic as Remy was.

His breathing deepened as he was pulled deeper and deeper into that hot mouth. "Oh yeah," Alex whispered, stroking Remy's head. "Keep going," he urged, but he didn't think that Remy would be stopping any time soon.

The gentle hand on his head sent a tiny blanket of shocks through his scalp, his neck hair feeling stiff and cold. It sent a shiver through his body despite the heat.

He kept going, keeping it slow as he eagerly continued scrubbing the bottom half of Krycek with his tongue. As room ran out he invited the man into his throat, lips stopping at the hilt of his length. Moist and warm muscles behind the throat walls began working, stretching and contracting around the intrusion.

Alex let out a ragged sigh, a tremor running through his body. He knew that Remy had been willing, but he hadn't expected him to be so eager. His hips rocked forward, pushing further into that luscious mouth. His hands continued to rub against his Remy's head, fingers combing through the auburn hair. He had expected the victory sex to be as violent as the battle, but now he was reconsidering.

Remy completely relaxed. Relishing in the fingers through his hair, the sounds that Krycek made, and his gentle rocking as Remy worked his throat and tongue like so few could. Reaching up he felt the smooth texture and curve of Krycek's hip and thigh.

His fingers danced, rubbed until the nimble digits cascaded down the small of his back and over his ass. Parting his cheeks and teasing the sensitive rose that lay there in wait.

Through the haze of cloudy bliss, Krycek's body jolted at the sensation. He had made it a rule of his not to let any of his defeated opponents have access to his body like this before, not trusting them to do damage in retaliation. It seemed for this extremely talented man he was breaking all the rules. Such as his 'never challenge the same person twice.' A second fight was usually bloodier than the first, now that both opponents had first hand experience with the other's fighting style. But if that meant he could get LeBeau's mouth on his cock again (or vice versa - though he wasn't willing admit it), Krycek would take the risk.

Remy felt the jolt and nearly pulled his hands away in slight fear. No slap, no angry curses... he relaxed.

His charming mouth pulled away so his tongue could reclaim what it desired. Snaking around the sides and bottom of Krycek's length, pressing, folding, and doing some oral gymnastics as Remy's other hand came up.

Fingers knowingly touched what was not in his mouth. Back and forth they massaged, matching a rhythm that his probing index was beginning to set.

Alex let out a long moan, his hips mindlessly moving with the rhythm that Remy was setting. If he had known that the other man was so talented and so enthusiastic, he would have challenged him a long time ago. He arched downwards to stroke along Remy's spin. He could feel his orgasm building, a smirk crossing his face. Somehow he didn't think that Remy would be weaseling out, arguing that he fulfilled his obligation. In fact, they might have a problem figuring out exactly when they could stop fulfilling the obligation.

Remy could sense Krycek's building... appreciation, for his talent. It seemed like it was going to end all too soon. He wanted to hold on to this moment but knew he couldn't. Already his mind had formed plans, excuses, accidents to keep this ... whatever it was, going. He wasn't finished worshipping his Alex Krycek. Not yet. And he had a feeling he wouldn't be for a long time. It was better than he had ever dared to hope for.

Remy arched, nudged his spine into Alex' touch. Like a cat barely moving into the pet of it's owner, yet seemingly staying in place. He released a moan of his own, one that spoke of his anticipation.

Remy's moan, combined with the stimulation of teeth and tongue and finger became too much. Hand curling around his head to hold Remy firmly in place, Krycek's hips pumped faster into the mouth so expertly teasing him. Alex's toes curled in his boots, feeling his orgasm build. All he needed was one little nudge and...

Krycek through back his head with a loud yell as he came harder than he had in a long time.

Remy's hands clenched onto Krycek's hips, following every thrust into his inviting mouth. He came hard. Remy had hoped he had been enough, though part of him had never doubted it. As the seed shot down his throat Remy angled his tongue, diverting some of it for his own taste and hunger. What he couldn't hold dripped from the corners of his mouth.

He waited until every last drop had exhausted itself from Krycek's body. Removing him from his mouth, he still wasn't through. Lips and tongue went about cleaning his obsession up, not leaving a single drop behind.

Licking his lips he looked up, seeking a pair of heavy-hooded greens as his hand softly stroked a hip.

Alex swayed on the balls of his feet, staring down at Remy. This would have been the point where the loser would have pulled away. Retaliation after a fight meant an ejection from the game, and so it was rare, but not unheard of. At most the usual was a cool indifference. But here he was practically begging to be fucked.

Which was a bonus, since that's exactly what Krycek had in mind. He glanced around and spotted the old bar, practically a cliche out of a western movie, and gestured towards it with his left hand. "On the bar, on your back," he ordered and then raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think I was done claiming my prize?"

Remy stood and faced Krycek eye-to-eye. "I had hoped y' were not." He smiled, turned and obeyed.

The old bar top, he thanked whoever had done it, was thankfully not that old. Smooth and not peeling or splintering. Having splinters up and down his spine was not something he would be looking forward to, and thanks to the owners of this ran-down and poor tourist attraction he wouldn't have to.

He propped himself up onto the bar and then lay down. Arms behind his auburn head made it easier to watch Krycek, though also gave the wrong impression of Remy being relaxed and at ease. He wasn't.

He had followed Remy over to the bar, admiring his ass every step of the way. Krycek chuckled as he looked at Remy, letting genuine humor and not his usual sarcasm reach his eyes as he took in the reclining man's pose. "A bit cocky, aren't we?" he asked, resting his hand on the taut stomach.

He could feel the tense muscles underneath his right hand. Like he was trying to soothe a nervous horse, Krycek lightly stroked the body before him, learning the play and flow of flesh and bone. "Very nice," he said, staying above the waist for the moment. Remy had his chance to please and tease him. Now it was Alex's turn.

Exposed like this, Remy's facade was immediately vanquished at that touch. Tense muscles jumped and eyes took in every move of each finger as Krycek traced his flesh. Arms freed themselves from behind his head, turning his gaze to the ceiling but still aware of where Krycek was every second. He shifted ever so slightly wherever that touch went so as to yearningly arch into it.

Giving in with a sigh Remy closed his eyes, head rolling back on the bar as he raised and stretched his shoulders. Hands gripped the sides of the bar near his hips.

Alex smiled to himself as his hand continued to explore Remy's abs. His eyes were locked on Remy's face. He was curious about those odd red eyes. Solid, like the inky black of the aliens or some of the possessed, but he had never seen in any of the files that there were cases of red ones. He needed to know before he got in too much deeper. And he was afraid that he was already in too deep.

Stretching out, he crouched down and blew in Remy's ear. "How about a little trade," he whispered in a smoky voice. He made sure his hand continually caressed Remy's abdomen. Not that he would have needed much prompting touch that washboard stomach. "I'll tell you about my left arm if you explain your fascinating eyes."

Remy's mouth made a gasping 'o' as he felt his cool breath on and in his ear. The whisper sent goose bumps down his neck and arms. His eyes blinked open at the request, a smile coming to play across his lips. His mind raced as he spoke.

"Dese mile-long lashes? Naturally grown, chere." He turned to look Krycek in the eye, measuring his chances of acceptance... he rarely hid the fact he was a mutant, but he had been turned down before when another discovered the truth. Part of him now was screaming to hide it, rejection here and now was something he didn't want to risk.

Aside from the eyes, his gifts were easy to conceal.

He smirked, relying on his legendary (to his team, at least) charm to pull him through. "Few mill'on bucks an a few specialized docs can get y' anyt'ing."

Krycek chuckled softly against his neck before biting down lightly. "Nice try, Remy. But I've seen quite a few specialized doctors about this," he shrugged his left arm, "and although there's been a lot of advances in medicine, they're nowhere near replacing arms. Or eyes."

He settled at the side of the bar, roughly mid line of Remy's chest. His fingers skittered down lower across his abdomen, skirting his pubic hair and tickling down his thigh. "Others may have fallen for that explanation, but I've been around." Clever fingers now reversed their direction, now lightly dancing along the inside of his leg. "So shall we try this again?"

Remy's breathing became uneven as Krycek teased him and highlighted his lie. His fingers knew exactly where to brush as Remy's lashes fluttered, tongue wetting his lips. The soft bite on his neck still lingered as Remy looked toward the ceiling once more.

He could lie. Again. Explain Krycek was wrong... they could replace arms. The X-Men could, at least. And eyes... he was sure Beast and Jean with Wolverine's blood could work something out. But they all lead to one explanation. Who were the X-Men? Mutants. The truth he was trying to avoid revealing.

He closed his eyes, not sure he wanted to see Krycek's reaction written on his handsome face. With a steady and firm voice he tore open his own heart and left it there for Krycek: "I'm a mutant."

"Mutant," Krycek repeated, his hand pausing as he considered. Mutant's hadn't been a concern of the Syndicate's per se. Though aware of them, they were more concerned with having humanity survive the oncoming alien invasion than deciding which version of humanity would survive. That would have to wait until the aliens were dealt with. He didn't believe half of what the 'top secret government reports' about the 'mutant threat' that were being passed around politicians and lawmakers were saying. They probably designed to manipulate the ignorant and had the same level of truth as the ones he helped create about the unlikelihood of a UFO threat.

His hand resumed his slow, ticklish stroking as if it never paused. Mutant or not, the man was a good fighter, something that Krycek admired. "That explains the eyes then." If he had been possessed by a new type of purity control, the alien would have jumped to him or attacked. Not come up with a lie that it could easily be caught in. Krycek's mind started sorting over the facts that he did know. Such as aside from some having different physical differences from the norm (such as the oddly gorgeous red eyes he couldn't help staring intently at), they were supposed to have other abilities - only the imagination was the limit as to what they could be. "And what is your...talent?" he asked, genuinely curious. And why hadn't Remy mopped the floor with his ass. Mutants were supposed to be tougher than humans. He was wondering now if the fight had been thrown.

Remy blinked. So the man accepted mutants? He turned his head again to look at Krycek as he thought. The question made him cringe slightly, Krycek obviously knew more about mutants than Remy cared for... and more questions would be on their way, suspicion, the whole nine yards.

Reaching under the bar with his right hand he searched, felt for some object and produced a shot glass. "Potential energy," he eyed the dirty and chipped object. Faintly at first and then with a brighter, excitable shade it glowed red, the red in his eyes mirroring it's glow. "Kinetic energy." He held it a few more seconds and then flicked his wrist up and out. The glass exploded before it reached the wall.

"I make t'ings go boom."

He forgot to mention his charm, something that had failed on Krycek more than just recently, making the fight and meeting before it much more interesting to Remy than any previous encounter. Forgot to mention his agility... something that would bring forth the obvious, more questions... and something he didn't care to expose right now, the reasons why.

Krycek chuckled again, grinning, highly amused by the demonstration. "Where were you five years ago? You could have made my life so much easier." After what he had seen working for the Consortium, the horrors of their experiments with alien DNA had jaded him so that nothing much surprised him any more. Not Mulder's resurrection, not Scully's pregnancy, even the rumors of the death (yet again) of the Cigarette Smoking Man had raised anything more than an eyebrow. Krycek had himself been a host for an alien lifeform. Remy's ability to manipulate and interchange matter and energy was something that roused his curiosity, but didn't cause him any great worry, or at least not at the moment.

Remy was clearly uncomfortable now that his secret was out in the open. Or was there something more? Krycek thought there may be, but it wasn't the time for questions now. Not with this beautiful body spread before him, ripe for the taken. The touch of his hand, which hadn't ceased it's searchings grew bolder and more sensual. "I can either tell you how this," he shrugged his left shoulder, drawing attention to the artificial hand, "happened, now. Or," Alex's hand ghosted over the skin and hair next to Remy's impressive cock. "I can tell you later." The implication of what they'd be doing in the interim was crystal clear. "Your choice."

Remy inhaled sharply, fingers stretching out at his sides and toes curling within the boots. Hips shifted, begging for more. He wasn't sure he had enough blood in his skull to hear Krycek if he began his story now. His mind was still reeling from that exploring touch, being accepted, and the path Krycek's prize-taking was turning.

After a moment and some further sensual touches Remy gave up on any more reasoning thoughts and blurted in one husky and exasperated breath, "Later."

He would have jumped the man there, taught him how to tease and make love Cajun style. But it would have broken the rules. He was Krycek's prize, now the other way around. And he would wait. Patiently.

Krycek gave him another smile, hearing Remy's response. Somehow he didn't think he would have been getting a different answer. Not that he minded at all. There would be time enough for talking afterwards. The fact that he wanted to talk was something noteworthy in itself. The reason why was something he'd have to figure out later.

Instead he decided to concentrate on the rosy cock so proudly displayed before him. Still keeping his touch light and teasing, now he stroked along the length instead of beside of it, barely allowing the pad of his finger to caress it. His eyes never left Remy's watching the mutant's expressions hungrily.

Remy's moist lips parted. His head wanted to loll backwards, eyes wanted to roll closed. But he kept his gaze firmly locked on the sparkling greens of Alex there-ought-to-be-a-law-against-looking-this- damn-good Krycek.

The lower corners of Remy's eyes tightened, wanting more but reminding himself about patience being... important or something, hell if he could think now. His pronounced eye brows were knitted in blissful concentration on the delicate touches below and the hunter look in Krycek's gaze.

Krycek watched every flicker of expression on Remy's face. Eyes hooded, he leaned down to lick the length of his neck, tongue swirling around the bobbing adam's apple. He relished the salty tang of the skin beneath his lips as he gently bit down.

And he felt himself...caring...for Remy. He really hadn't given a damn about anyone since before Hong Kong. Not watching Skinner die writhing in pain from the infestation of nanomachines he controlled. Not when he manipulated Jeffrey Spender into his ill fated rebellion against his father the Smoking Man in revenge for the loss of his arm. Not even when he kissed Mulder in his apartment, more of an act of messing with his mind than passion.

Remy sighed and moaned as he stretched his neck before that knowledgeable mouth. Despite himself, he felt his hand on the back of Krycek's neck, fingers threading up into the jet black hair. Short finger nails felt silky (though also slightly dusty) strands slip underneath in passing.

This was turning out better than he had hoped for. Better than most of his trysts, fights, or simple flings. Better than spending his life pining away after a woman who had refused to touch him or help him.

"Alex..." Remy breathed, paused as his fingers worked deeper into his hair. "J'ai besoin de vous. [I need you.]"

He didn't understand the words, but the need behind them was all too clear. Krycek turned his head and kissed along his jaw, working his way towards those luscious lips. He had only a brief taste of them during the fight, and he was more than eager for another.

Alex's other hand came around to cradle Remy's head, fingers working their way through the silken hairs. His first brush of lip against lip was light, meant to be a tease. But all thoughts of teasing flew out of his mind as he tasted Remy.

Remy could have done a teasing. He had learned from the best at an all too young age about the fine arts of tease. But he had waited for long, agonizing, nightmaring and day dreaming months for this moment and he needed it too badly to wait through any more games.

Krycek's touches were becoming more and more luscious, serene, and kind. Almost as if he weren't taking Remy as a 'prize' so much as from a genuine want. That thought sped Remy's heart up another notch as he felt the moist kisses along his jaw.

Remy's fingers tensed into the short and silky strands as his lips met Krycek's. He pressed with thirst into that hot mouth, delving deeply and passionately.

Alex was surprised by the depth of the want in Remy's kiss. And the depth in his own. Letting go of the other man's body, Krycek hoisted himself onto the bar. There wasn't room enough for them to lay side by side, so Krycek settled on top of Remy. It almost felt like he was meant to be there.

The cotton of his shirt was the only barrier between them. Alex wasn't ready to drop that barrier and let a potential lover see the stump, the sign of his failure and weakness. Elsewhere it was the press of skin against skin, something Krycek relished as he resumed kissing Remy.

Remy arched his abdomen up to meet Krycek's, flesh to flesh now and sharing a heat that wasn't the Arizona desert. His ever seeking left hand lifted the hem of Krycek's shirt, snaking under to render the finely turned muscles gracing the lithe spine.

The right hand joined it's counter part. Tracing the muscle groups with finger tips as they made their way past the small of Krycek's back, over his ass of granite and down the slopes to his hips. Fingers and palms gripped there, his own hips pressed up and he ground himself. Hard.

He had tensed slightly when the hand slipped beneath his shirt. But Krycek relaxed as Remy explored him. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him gently to bring him pleasure. Most of the fighters just wanted to get him off quickly. Remy seemed to be doing just the opposite, drawing the encounter out.

Alex did push downwards, wanting the maximum contact with the mutant he could get. His hips began a slow grind against the man beneath him, not resisting the impulse to tease him slightly before things got more serious.

Part Three

Remy moaned and whimpered, sounds both caught in the back of his throat by the kiss. He was teasing him again and it was Remy could do not to turn the tables (though he hoped for another chance, he wasn't going to pine away if it didn't happen).

His throbbing member was pressed between their bodies, he could feel Krycek's laying next to his. Felt his sweat and hardened muscles against his. Felt the shifting of muscles as they ground and kissed...

Remy's fingers dug into Krycek's back and wound into his shirt, tugging on flesh and cloth in a quiet desperation that was quickly building within him.

Krycek's hips flexed when he felt his cock slide next to Remy's. The mutant's reaction was well worth waiting for as Krycek teased him for a little longer. There was also a practical problem to overcome. He had expected a quick victory, a blowjob, and maybe some information about people who could restore his arm. Sex, let alone on a bar in a ghost town, was an unexpected bonus that he was carrying the right supplies for, but not in the correct place. The condoms and lube were in his jeans pocket. Problem was he didn't want to lose contact with the magnificent body he was claiming. Shifting slightly, he bent over to whisper into Remy's ear. "You're good at blowing things up, but how about bringing things to you? Say the contents of my right jeans pocket?"

Remy made a disappointed noise, turning his head to look at the piles of clothing. "Dat would require telekinesis, somet'ing I be lackin' chere..." He didn't bother hiding the pleading tone of his voice, leave it to Alex mystery-man Krycek to drive the savoir-faire out of Remy LeBeau's very essence.

Reluctantly Remy loosened his hold on Krycek. Not wanting to break contact but knowing it was either that or make a fool of himself in one of the most embarrassing ways a man in his ... position could.

Reluctantly, Krycek relaxed his grip as well and started to shift off of Remy. For a moment he had toyed with the idea of just doing it without protection, but that was dangerous enough under normal circumstances. Considering how much blood was spilt, the risk of disease was very high. Alex gave a slight grunt as his feet hit the ground, sore from the fight. He was getting older, although there was a time when he didn't think he'd live to see 35, he wasn't one to take stupid chances.

Reaching out and snagging his jeans, Alex pulled the lube and condoms out of his pockets. Grinning he climbed back on the bar and tossed one of the condoms onto LeBeau's belly. "Care to do the honors?"

Remy sat up and, moving carefully, swung one leg off the bar, tucking the other under his knee. He considered slipping the condom onto himself but he was too close, had waited too long, and worried any touch might end with embarrassment. He was Krycek's prize so the man should decide himself.

Tearing the packet open he held the condom between index and middle finger. "I do de honors... but on who?" He asked, head cocked side ways with a mischievous gaze.

Krycek's eyes were filled with a bit of surprise and amusement. Most defeated fighters accepted fate and spread their legs without questioning. And no winner in his right mind would trust that a beaten foe wouldn't try to get revenge even as his prize was being claimed while in such a vulnerable position.

So why was he considering it?

Because for the first time since he woke up alone and covered in an oily residue in the abandoned missile silo in North Dakota, having lost almost 48 hours of his life playing host to an alien presence, he was allowing himself to start feeling again.

But although he was grateful for that flicker of emotion, his instincts didn't fully abandon him. Krycek wasn't ready to fully trust Remy by any means. "On me," he said rather sternly, but tried to soften the words with a slightly apologetic smile.

Remy saw there was more going on inside of Krycek's mind than words would express. He was thinking, remembering... the eyes never lie. And just like that, it was pushed aside. Replaced with a commanding tone and apologetic smile.

"Dere no need fo a sorry," Remy smirked as adjusted his position on the bar. "I did ask, oui?" If had wanted to wear it, he would not have asked.

Leaning over Krycek's lap, hand on one side and knees on the other to maintain balance as he slipped the condom over Krycek. His eyes locked firmly on his greens and lips teasingly resting against the other's.

Krycek's eyes fluttered shut as he felt Remy roll the condom onto him. Unable to resist the lush lips so close to his, he tilted his head and kissed the mutant. His hand went to Remy's wrist, holding his hand in place, feeling his cock throb. He hadn't expected his reaction to his direct touch to be so intense.

Alex pulled back from Remy's mouth with a wet pop. His hand went to Remy's chest and he pushed the mutant back against the bar with a gentle, constant pressure.

At first Remy resisted and pressed against Krycek's hand in a minor act of defiance as he recaptured that mouth. Though desperate for their dance to resume and progress he also knew that as it did the further they got to a good-bye and leave takings.

With an apologetic chuckle he broke free again and did what Krycek's hand told him to. He leaned away, once again resting on his own legs until one was trapped under him as he lay down.

Krycek gave a little chuckle himself, amused by Remy's spirit. His hand stroked down the mutant's chest, tracing over the well defined muscles. He reached for the bottle of lubricant with his artificial hand, closing around it with the electric fingers. He wasn't as graceful squeezed out a dollop onto his fingers. His hand ghosted over his groin, bypassing his cock and balls to lightly rest against Remy's anus. He then gently pressed a long forefinger against it, seeking entrance.

Remy released a silent moan, his lips parting and eye lids slitting as he felt Krycek pressing against him. Shifting his hips Remy pressed back just as slight and shuddered as Krycek's forefinger entered him.

"Alex..." a heavily accented whisper.

Krycek smiled at how Remy whispered his name and at how tight he was around his finger. Slowly Krycek began to work that finger in and out of Remy, crooking it slightly to catch his prostate. He watched the mutant squirm as he added a second finger. For reason he couldn't fully explain, Krycek had the desire to draw this encounter out as long as he could.

Gasping with silent whimpers Remy had half the mind to stop this. It was cruel, teasing, and ... it was heaven. Fingertips dug into the sides of the bar as he squirmed against Krycek's exploring. Toes curled inside his boots. His eyes were torn between wanting to stare at the man doing this to him and wanting to roll back and closed so his head could loll back, and neck muscles could relax.

Krycek's eyes remained locked on Remy's face, watching each shade of emotion chasing over his face. He was clearly enjoying this, as much as Krycek was. After one last flick of fingertips against Remy's prostate, Krycek withdrew his fingers. And replaced them with something much thicker.

Remy gasped with a moan, bringing his legs up to wrap around Krycek. He pulled Krycek close, up to his hilt and then opened his reds that now glowed with his barely suppressed power. He felt he could easily forget himself and lose control, injuring them both if he did so.

Biting his lip he held Krycek firmly in place until at last the glowing behind his eyes subsided and he reigned in his mutant gift.

Relaxing his grip Remy met Krycek's eyes. "See what y' do t' me," it was part chuckle and part husky whisper.

He watched Remy's every reaction with rapt attention. It was rare that he brought a sex partner such an intense reaction just by entering into him. Not to mention the urge in him to let loose right away. Normally, he would be in consummate control, drawing out and teasing his partner. But the feeling of the mutant surrounding him made him want to break that rule, to thrust wildly into the supine body beneath him. He bit his lip in an effort to control his libido even as he began to thrust. "Tell me what I do to you, Remy," he whispered in a honey rough voice.

Remy moaned as Krycek began to thrust, his own member already leaking precum onto his belly. He got lost in the movement between between them, seemed to forget the request as he thought how to word it.

"Y' make me..." he trailed off, everything that could finish the sentence streaming through his conscious as he gasped. "Y' make me want... t' forget who I am." Each word a panting oath.

That was a feeling Krycek was all too familiar with. Wanting to forget the sum of experiences and actions that now made him what he was. Lose oneself in the sticky slaps of flesh on flesh. Wishing that they could shed their previous lives and continue forward from this moment on.

Alex leaned forwards to feel his skin gliding over skin. He could feel Remy's erection trapped between them. His thrusts stayed slow and steady as he kissed that lush mouth. This was going to be trouble; he knew it. After his other battles, he had just taken his prize, gotten off and never thought of his defeated opponent again. But this time would be different. He just knew it.

The look that briefly trapped Krycek's face told Remy more than words. He knew what he meant, deep down he knew exactly what he meant by wanting to forget. Perhaps they could forget together. It was always a nice try... and they could get killed in the process... it was a good fantasy, but not likely.

Remy kissed him deeply, a hand kneading the back of Krycek's nape as he suppressed a moan. The friction between their bodies against his member drew a slow grinding motion from his hips as Krycek thrusts into him.

As he groaned into the kiss, Krycek's pace picked up, feeling the sensations intensify. His artificial arm was splayed off to one side, and he couldn't get any leverage with it. That left him slightly frustrated seeing that he couldn't explore the supine body below him as he thrust into him.

Instead he made up for it by rubbing his entire body against Remy with each move. He made sure his cock raked over Remy's prostate with each withdrawal as he moved faster and faster.

Remy whimpered and moaned each time Alex withdrew from him. Sweat mingling from each sculpted body as Remy writhed beneath him. He raked his fingers over shoulders and spine, feeling each muscle doing it's job as his climax grew nearer.

A hot burst of air from the open door or perhaps just that extra notch of heat between their bodies sent Remy toppling over and into ecstasy. His seed a searing heat spreading between their pressing bodies, his mouth crying out for Alex, and his body tingling with overwhelming sensations.

Alex let out a harsh yell as he felt Remy cum against his stomach. Guard uncharacteristically down for the moment, he saw fireworks behind closed eyelids. Remy's body gripped him so tightly it wrenched the orgasm from him.

Panting, he collapsed against Remy, panting heavily. Aftershocks were racing up and down his spine. Normally he would already be pulling away, withdrawing into his cool persona. But instead he just lay there on him, completely relaxed.

Remy shivered beneath the weight, his hands slowly stroking the back and shoulders above him. Eyes closed he waited for his heart and breath to return to a regular pace.

As his breath calmed he kissed Krycek's temple. So he had stayed. Remy had hoped it would happen, Alex had slowly been opening up ... but Remy's inner voice still told him otherwise. How long would it last?

"Alex...?" But he didn't have the words. Instead he spoke the name again, as if new, as if stroking it like one did an aching heart. "Alex."

He should be getting up and getting the hell away as fast as he could. But Alex didn't move a muscle. Instead he lay there, not even twitching, listening to Remy's heart beat. Maybe if neither of them spoke, the outside world would just go away, leaving them together...

But then Remy said his name, and the spell was broken. Alex lifted his head and stared at the mutant's glowing red eyes. There was something soft, but hard to read, in Krycek's green ones. "Yes, Remy?" he asked, tasting the name as if for the first time.

The look in Krycek's eyes made Remy all the more hesitant, tentative, and paranoid about anything he might say or do next. His fingers paused on the shoulders, every muscle now afraid to move. He breathed, staring into his greens and trying to read that look, understand what was expected of him... if anything.

Finally, licking his lips, he spoke: "Alex. Stay wit' me?"

Alex's eyes went wide at Remy's request. He wanted more than anything to say yes. The Fight Club was no protection from the Consortium, It was a hiding place, nothing more, and Krycek knew that he would probably be caught eventually. And he shuddered to think what would happen to anyone who was caught with him.

"You don't know what you're asking, Remy" he said. He tried to soften the sting of his words. "The men who were ultimately responsible for what happened," he shrugged his artificial arm, "won't stop at this."

"I know what I'm askin'," Remy whispered. The words had stung, but years of hearing Rogue's excuses toughened his reaction and perspective on such bricks thrown his way.

Reaching up he traced Krycek's mouth, jaw, caressed the side of his face. His hand shivered.

"I know my way 'round danger, Alex Krycek. Bein' a mutant came wit' de territory. An' I know loneliness. I know de fear dat comes wit' love. De what ifs..." he trailed off, searching Krycek's eyes. "An' I've seen love killed, jus' 'cause she was mine. But I don' wanna run any more."

His voice wavered, his eyes reflecting the memories of each loss. "I'm willin' t' take de chance if y' are."

Krycek licked his lips, feeling oddly nervous. They were so alike. Both had felt such pain and loss. Both faced danger as part of just being what they were. And both of them were tired of being alone.

He stared into those glowing red eyes - so alike, yet unlike, the ones of the aliens. "I'm willing," he said. And Krycek hadn't put so much honesty into the two words he spoke in a very long time.

Remy stared into Krycek's emerald pools, the honesty shining through from a tortured soul much alike his own. The pain, guilt, and doubt they both harbored would no longer be suffered alone. Their long empty nights wouldn't seem long enough, and the cold days just might brim with hope.

"We'll face de world t'gether," he whispered and tentatively placed his lips against Krycek's.

Krycek pressed back, returning the kiss with an unaccustomed and almost alien sensation of tenderness. Fucking and one night stands he knew plenty about, but loving was something outside of his experience.

"So where are we going to face the world from?" He had a few bolt holes scattered around the country, but no place that he truly considered home.

Remy sat up, gently easing Alex up with him. Sliding his hand to the small of his back he kept Alex close as he simultaneously stretched his spine.

"We can trust de X-Men. Y' can stay dere wit' me fo a while," though he planned on living with Alex, he wouldn't run out on his team again. He half thought aloud, half informed Alex as his eyes roamed over Krycek's face: "Give 'em time t' work out a contact system... maybe protection, give us time figure where t' hop..."

"An' dere's some one I want y' t' meet." He smiled, though said nothing more as he hopped off the bar.

Meet?" he said with a raised eyebrow. It was hard not to let his distrust reassert itself. It had saved his live in the past. He swung his legs over the bar and dropped to the ground. The X-Men sounded vaguely familiar - a reference he couldn't clearly remember from his short stint on the X-Files.

"Who are the X-Men?" he asked as he picked up his jeans. It took some tugging, grunting, and creative use of his prosthetic arm, but he managed to pull them on without too much difficulty.

Remy watched him pull the jeans on before answering, his eyes fixed on the muscles that did the job, along the back and shoulders and biceps. Turning to his own clothes he slipped into them like a wiry otter, though definitely filled them in more than an otter could and in all the right places.

"De X-Men... my family. Team mates. Fellow mutants." He lifted his shirt to study the gash along his ribs, the dried blood was rubbing against the shirt in a very wrong way, causing it to reopen in places.

Picking up his bottle of water he gazed out at the quickly fading sun and shadows. "Y' can trust dem. Dey have no reason t' reveal who or what I..." he smirked, turning mischievous eyes back to Krycek. It had taken him years to learn to trust them as a team but now he could see life no other way around them. He even trusted them more than his adoptive family Thieves Guild.

"Who or what you...?" Krycek repeated, curious. It would take time for him to learn to trust Remy completely, let alone Remy's family.

He was working the prosthetic arm through the sleeve of his T-shirt. His muscles were stiff, protesting the beating they had received and given earlier. Once he thought the arm was through the sleeve, he started to pull it over his head, poking his good arm through the other sleeve. Except that part way through, the shirt caught on the prosthetic, leaving him stuck. He shifted, knowing that he looked like a fool. "Little help please," he growled, not used to asking for help.

Remy blinked at Krycek's request. With how sensitive the subject had been Remy had decided to avoid the arm thing altogether despite Krycek's vow to explain it later. The subject seemed touchier than merely being a mutant.

Quickly, efficiently, Remy got the shirt down over his arm and head. Perhaps to squash any awkwardness, or mumbled thank yous, or perhaps because he was... well, Remy, he didn't give Krycek any time to react. A brief and deep kiss overtook his mouth.

Opting to ignore the question on the sentence he had left hanging, Remy often forgot not every one knew of his rambunctious "affairs" that came and went like water... and he didn't want Krycek thinking he was just another fling.

Instead, he kissed the man. And then "Y' want t' tell me 'bout it now?" Shrugging at the prosthetic arm.

Krycek stared at the arm and then off into the middle distance. "They thought they were trying to help me," he said, shrugging his left shoulder. "Men hiding in the woods outside of a gulag in Tunguska that doesn't exist. 'No arm, no test' they kept repeating to me when I asked them why."

"They were avoiding an experiment a blacker than Black Ops group was performing. A vaccine to prevent an alien lifeform from infecting a host." His voice was without inflection. At the time he had convinced himself that he was doing the right thing, saving humanity. Now he wasn't so sure. "Subjects were tracked through biological markers in smallpox vaccinations. So..." he trailed off.

He described the flashes of memory that he had about the event. "Middle of the night. Six men holding me down. White hot knife. Smell of burning flesh. It was amazing that I didn't die from shock or infection."

Remy listened quietly, absorbing the story. From the beginning though he had questions, and held them.

"After de beatin' we gave one another, I'm not so shocked you didn't die..." he said it without humor, a small twist to his brows revealing his disgust of the whole thing.

Tentatively he continued: "What were y' doin' de woods alone?" Especially a part of the world Remy was sure no pleasure camps were taken often.

He had asked the questions that Krycek really hadn't wanted to answer. The ones that would probably send Remy running away. "I had been kidnapped by one of the prisoners and lost him in the woods. I wasn't a subject, but one of the scientist's handlers."

"We were doing it for humanity's survival," he added defensively, trying to come up with a rationalization. "We likened it to an infection - some cells had to die in order to destroy the illness so the body could become healthy again." Or that was what he tried to tell himself whenever his conscience and guilt whispered to him in the dark.

Remy lowered his gaze. He could hear the guilt all too well and understood it. The constant struggle with the memory and the battle with conscience and some rational explanation that really didn't suffice... if it did, the guilt would go away.

"Sometimes we play a pawn and don' realize it till it too late, Alex. It wasn' your fault." Remy looked at the arm and the sleeve covering where it connected to the shoulder. Reaching up he felt the seam, hesitant and lightly.

Krycek looked away, but didn't flinch at the gentle touch. "Don't be so quick to forgive me, Remy. You don't know the half of what I've done." Spy, assassin, torturer, betrayer all that he seemingly had left off the list was kicker of innocent small animals.

The words hurt. But they didn't change his feelings on the matter. Cupping Krycek's chin with a set of fingers Remy turned his eyes back to his, hurt and insistent.

"We all done horrible t'ings, Alex. Sometimes we can't forgive ourselves. We know we don' deserve it from others much less our own bodies. But den some one comes along and tries to show us other wise..." He trailed off with a sigh, his eyes softening.

"It'll take lifetimes fo y' t' accept it, but I say it anyway: I do forgive you. I accept your past. An' I am never leavin' you."

He wasn't going to cry. No one in his life had offered him unconditional love. Not his foster parents who were more interested in the support check they got for taking care of him. Nor any of the 'siblings' he was bullied by and learned to bully in return. Not the teachers who were in and out of his life. And he found an unexpected moisture gathering at the corner of his eyes.

Krycek's hand came up to grip Remy's wrist. Not to push, him away, but to grip it tightly. To reassure him that the mutant in front of him was real and wasn't running away.

Remy started at the reaction and then stared at the hand gripping his wrist. His eyes darted to the eyes, unsure until he saw the hint of moisture, and the disbelief. Trembling now, Remy brought his other to rescue his wrist, loosening the fingers until he could slide his hand into Krycek's. He held his hand with both of his.

"I'm not goin' any where," he said softly, pulling Krycek close and resting his forehead against his. They had only known each other a day and already they were here. Remy trembled again with pent up longing, love, and emotions he didn't want to identify because identifying them meant trying to understand them.

Krycek didn't feel the shiver go through Remy. He was shaking too hard. He hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time. "Don't do this to me, Remy," he said softly. "Don't make me feel again." But it was already too late because he was feeling deeply. More deeply than he ever had before.

"Y' can't hide from it fo'ever," Remy replied just as softly, pulling Alex against his chest and embracing his shaking form. This seemed so familiar for some reason but he wasn't sure he wanted to know why. "I don' understand how one like y' went through life wit' out this. Y' deserve it, Alex, an' I'm gonna give it."

He held Krycek in his embrace, knowing this was all probably a shock to the man. The words, the emotions... strange, perhaps, but welcomed? Despite what Krycek said, Remy hoped they were. How could they not be?

He was breathing heavily. It was all too much. The intensity of the emotion. He hadn't felt any emotions this intensely since...since a bathroom in Hong Kong, when he has been possessed by an alien intelligence. And then woke up in an abandoned missile silo in the middle of nowhere next to a UFO.

"Let's get out of here," Krycek said. It was too much too fast for him to cope with. It had been safer not to feel, to remain in that icy detached state. Now he was going to have to learn how to deal again, hopefully someplace safe with Remy. "Anywhere," he said. "Just someplace safe."

Remy nodded. Cocking his head as they exited the building he suddenly bolted for the highway to stand in the middle of it. Out of the flat landscape a semi was heading the way they wanted (any way). Remy flagged it down, had a few words with the driver and then gestured for Alex to join him.

To the border and then an airport Remy bought them two first class tickets to New York. He slept from exhaustion, from the fight and from emotions, the plane lulling him to sleep despite wanting to stay awake and see to Krycek.

From the airport Remy drove them both to the Xavier Institute. In the front glass doors they were immediately ambushed by a large auburn wolf.

"Rahne!" A harsh whisper as it was 4 in the morning. He glanced at Krycek. "She's a mutant too, a girl who should be in bed," the last directed at the wolf who's keen hearing had clearly picked up on their entrance.

The men's dorms were on the 3rd floor. As most people in the dorms would be using their room for much of the year they were spacious and comfortable and allowed for the utmost touches of personalization as long as it didn't mean punching out a wall or window.

Remy opened his door and ushered Krycek in, halting the wolf who had followed them up the stairs by blocking her path. She shifted into her human form and, giggling, informed Remy they could sleep in, she would bring their breakfast up. No need for the whole mansion to be curious about a human on the grounds.

Whatever he had been expecting, Alex hadn't been expecting this. Not a rich mansion that apparently housed a school for gifted students. And from the hints that Remy had dropped, he had a feeling he knew what gifts they were referring to. But he hadn't expected to be confronted by a wolf that apparently was a mutant. Guard dogs, perhaps. Wolves? No.

Closing the door Remy wished for a lock. But locks in the dorms were never needed, a strict ethical code usually prevented people from barging in without knocking. Still, a lock would have provided more certainty in situations like this.

The whole room smelt of matches and hints of flowers.

Remy studied Alex for a moment before shedding his torn and blood- stained shirt. "Y' can rest here wit'out interruption, we're safer here dan behind bars; de whole estate has security systems only used in a few others places. An' most of de mutants have de abilities t' detect unwanted presences witout de security systems."

He quickly added: "An' y' aren't one of dose 'unwanted presences'. People who smell or t'ink harm on the place... dat kind dey sense."

"I'll think happy thoughts then," Krycek said. Jet lagged and exhausted, he knew he wasn't reacting normally. Usually his first action on entering a room he would be sleeping in would be to check for bugs and explosive devices. However he had a feeling he could trust Remy. this was way too an elaborate set up for even the Consortium's resources.

He looked over Remy's torso, noting the scratches he had placed across his stomach, and he was now feeling vaguely guilty. "How long have you lived here, Remy?" he asked as he started working his shirt off.

Part Four

"Off an' on..." he trailed off, it seemed so long ago but he wasn't that sure. After he had 'killed' his ex-wife's brother, got cast out of the Guild, traveled... met Storm, and joined the X-Men, and eventually accepted back into the Guild.

Finally, coming out of his memories, he shrugged. "Maybe ten years." He laughed, not really wanting to recall the exact date, as even then it took so much longer for him to accept them and trust them. "Took time 'fore I believed what dey told me. Longer dan most who come here."

He walked to the reflective dresser and pulled out two sets of clothes. "Shower in dere if y' awake fo it," he gestured at the doorway across from the side of the bed.

Maybe in a little bit," Krycek said, flopping backwards onto the bed. "Nice mirror," he smirked, gesturing to the ceiling. "Ten years, huh?" He didn't expect to be alive in ten years. Sometimes he didn't expect to be alive in ten days.

He sat up on one elbow, and then rolled to sit up. "Help me off with the arm, Remy?" he asked. He had trusted the mutant this far, more than any person since the Cigarette Smoking Man had recruited him. So he might as well trust him all the way.

Seating himself next to Alex with one leg tucked under him Remy traced the straps holding the arm in place. Finding a velcro break in the material Remy held one side down and lifted the other end. Setting the straps and arm behind them Remy touched just above where the plastic had met skin.

"Does it still hurt?" He half asked, half wondered as his eyes moved from the shoulder to Alex' face. He leaned in, pressing his lips in a brief kiss well above where the cutting had taken place along the upper shoulder.

He had hissed in relief when Remy pulled the prosthetic away. Some days it seemed to be more a nuisance than a benefit. "Hurts like hell," he said, shuddering as Remy's lips brushed the skin of his shoulder. He didn't understand why he had become so emotional since meeting Remy. It was if an atrophied part, something he had thought had been amputated like his arm had been, had suddenly sprung back to life.

"I can still feel it, sometimes." He leaned back against Remy. "Like it's right there, but I can't see it. Hurts that way often. I sometimes reach out to grab something with it, and then remember that it's not there any more only when I can't pick things up."

Remy rested his along Krycek's shoulder as the man leaned against his chest. He listened silently, staring at the computer across the room. Wrapping his arms about Krycek's middle he sighed. "If dere was a way t' get y' own arm back, would y' do it?" The question was hesitant, suggestive, and hiding something. "I know a way, right here in dis building."

Krycek shook his head, assuming it was some sort of practical joke. "Not possible," Alex said, staring stonily ahead. "I've seen the best specialists in the medical community. Both legitimate and black ops. That arm transplant that made news a year or two back not withstanding, the technology to replace an arm is at least five years away."

Except that he had been talking to human doctors. Maybe the mutants knew something that most doctors didn't. He turned to look at Remy. "Why? What do you know?"

"Blood transfusion," Remy said, settling in behind Alex. "Dere are two mutants wit' de X-Men now who have a healing factor. One of dem has regrown his own limbs, de other is a very weak healing factor. Y' met her, de wolf?"

Remy traced Alex abs in lazy circles with his figures as he explained. "Logan's healing factor is strong enough no one knows how old he is, not even he. An' he owes me.

Krycek melted back against Remy. His right arm arched back around to rub the back of the mutant's head. "Let me think about it." it was what he wanted, but there were still risks. When word got out that he had regained his left arm, the Syndicate would be very interested in how it happened.

And they wouldn't care who they hurt in the process of getting that information.

"Take your time," Remy pulled away slightly and pressed his fingers gently against the nape of Krycek's neck. He worked his fingers down his neck slowly. He knew Krycek had much to think about and his silence wasn't awkward.

Bending in again he spoke next to Krycek's ear. "You're tired an' sore. Go shower, I'll be here t' massage it all out of y'."

Remy was right. Alex was tired, and a shower sounded good. As did the promise that he'd be there afterwards. Except the part about taking the shower alone. There were too many thoughts tumbling through his head for him to be alone. Alex was feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, and he hated that feeling. He turned to brush his lips against Remy's jaw. "Shower with me?"

"Y' have t' ask?" Remy chuckled and took Alex's hand, pulling him up and across the much-too-shiney floor into the bathroom.

Krycek chuckled, letting himself be led without resisting. "Stupid question, I know."

The bathroom matched the bedroom with smooth surfaces, though the floor and tub, separate from the shower, had unseen textures to keep their owner from slipping around on them. The only unstrict surfaces were the towels, tissues, and water.

Remy started the shower and slid open the door. Remy pulled open the door to the shower, the smooth and bubbled texture to the plastic was all that hide the user inside. The shower didn't sport a lip within it much higher than a few inches.

Turning around he took Alex's jean button and zipper as his own, slowly stripping him as a not so slow steam over took the shower and began leaking out around them.

Krycek rolled his hips, helping Remy as much as he could. His own hand moved to Remy's waist, peeling his jeans down. His tense muscles relaxed further from the steam, but mostly from a growing sense that he was safe here.

"You know," he said a bit lazily, "I didn't think your place would be so...austere." he had been a bit surprised by the color scheme.

Remy smirked at him as he removed his own clothing. "Austere?" He chuckled. "I expected somet'ing more along the lines of 'hey, Rem, where de 'coons? Don' dey like de shiney?'." His reds sparkled as he laughed, literally.

"What did y' see when I said I'm takin' y' home?" He shut the door to the shower after herding Krycek into it, picking up a quietly scented bar of soft soap.

"Something less shiny," Krycek said with a grin. "And a bit more...don't know...plush." His muscles went slack under the steam and hot water. "I guess I was expecting something a bit more like mansion my...uh... ex-boss used to live in." The Well Manicured Man did have a taste for finer things in life, and had tried to elevate Krycek, making him an heir to his position in the Syndicate. But things hadn't turned out how either of them had planned.

Remy chuckled with a secretive grin as he applied the soapy bar to Krycek's upper arms and shoulders. "People are full o' surprises, love. I don' spend dat much time here, an' when I do it's usually nursin' my head in de bed; somet'ing I'll introduce t' y' later." He leaned in, nipping at his ear lobe. "It's full o' plushy t'ings." The secretive, and alluring smile again.

"What did your boss live in?" Remy moved the soap across his chest and abdomen, stepping close to reach around and soap his back.

"Hmmm?" The feeling of Remy's hands moving over his body was a pleasant distraction. It took a moment for Alex to process the question. "He was British, and had a manor at Somerset. It was his ancestral home - filled antiques, art, and statues. Damn place looked more like a museum than someplace people lived." There was a suite in New York and a home in a gated community near Washington, but the manor was where the Well Manicured Man had referred to as home. Taking advantage of Remy standing so near to him, Krycek leaned forward to nip his lover's neck.

Leaning into Alex the soap and Remy's words never faltered, but it was clear his mind wandered. The sudsy rubbing of the bar became a bit more teasing as it traveled lower down Krycek's back.

"Museums are for de dying and dead, Xavier try t' keep de X-Men ahead o' de times..." Remy turned his head to catch Krycek's ear lobe between his teeth.

"Dead and dying. That describes the men I worked for." Sometimes he wondered if the Smoking Man had ever been truly alive. And if he was headed down the same path. There were days that he felt more dead than alive.

Alex ducked his head slightly and nipped Remy's neck, rubbing his body against his lovers lightly. He didn't want to talk any more about his past, or the Consortium's plans for the survival of humanity. Instead he wanted to distract himself with the very handsome naked man with him.

The soap and water only made Krycek's body feel all the more silky pressed against his. As the steady stream of water from above their heads rinsed Krycek's shoulders and chest Remy was moving the soap down to his thighs and hips.

Some how he wasn't sure he'd make it to Krycek's legs and feet as he turned his head to catch Krycek's mouth with his own, now rubbing his own body back against Krycek's with a grinding of his hips.

Alex returned his kiss with an almost desperation. It was just starting to sink in that he was safe here. He relaxed a bit more in his arms, his own hips moving in time with Remy's. Krycek's hand rubbed down Remy's back, coming to rest on his ass. Slowly his hand started kneading the muscle.

With the spiraling heat coming from both of their bodies now, added to the steam and water, Remy's mind reeled as he pressed Alex against the shower wall. His hips ground harder.

Finding his hand on one shoulder he followed the arm down and back, cupping the back of Alex's hand and feeling it move beneath his. His tongue delved deeply into Alex's mouth, hungering and muffling his moans as their bodies rubbed and pressed eagerly.

Krycek let out a loud moan as he felt Remy's hips speed up. Letting go of his ass, Krycek slipped his hand between their bodes and caught both their cocks in one grasp, making certain they rubbed together with each thrust.

Remy echoed Alex's moan as he adjusted their positions for the ultimate contact. Panting as water splashed down and off of them he bit Alex's lip as the kiss broke, sucking on it. Each thrust drew forth a panting moan and his eyes locked with the greens inches from him.

Too hot and too fast Remy already felt his climax hurtling forward, just out of reach and quickly building.

Small grunts escaped Krycek as he continued to thrust against Remy. Staring into those glowing eyes, feeling the hot water sluice over his body, the sharpness of Remy's teeth, the friction of their skin, he was being reduced to pure sensation. His hand stroked them even faster urging them towards orgasm.

Panting hard Remy gave Alex's lip one last lick before releasing it with a moan. "Aleeexx..." He gasped as his lover urged them faster with his aiding hand. "Dieu, Alex!" His eyes threatened to roll shut with overload.

Spine going rigid, Remy moaned loudly as he came within Alex's hand. He continued thrusting, riding the orgasm out until exhaustion crept up.

Alex let out a ragged gasp, his own orgasm leaving him shaking. Letting out a soft moan, he leaned against Remy, eyes shutting. Leaning against his lover, hearing the sound of the water pattering down around them, for the first time in a long time he felt a sense of peace and safety. As if he had finally come home after a long absence.

Remy held Alex with a soft embrace, rubbing his shoulder and back with one hand. This seemed so right, and right now he didn't feel like moving or speaking or even breathing. He just wanted to stay this way forever, feeling Alex's heartbeat against his own.

The sounds of the water, and their breath soon became like a lullaby to the ears, relaxing and making one feel he wasn't even awake.

Feeling the water begin to cool the slightest, Remy shifted his weight, not wanting to part but not wanting to get caught in the frigid cold water within a few moments.

Feeling him move, Krycek straightened up. He was wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He was supposed to be a cold blooded assassin, conscienceless killer, and remorseless betrayer.

It was funny what love could do to a person.

He reached out and shut off the water before it could grow any colder. "Dry off and then to bed?" he asked in a husky voice.

"My mind already dere," Remy replied with a kiss, stepping backwards and, holding the kiss, leading Krycek out and straight into a warm towel.

The floor of the bed room was cool on the freshly cleaned feet. Doing a handstand flip from the bathroom door Remy neatly landed himself on the bed, sprawling out like a spoiled cat.

He pulled Krycek down with him, not caring about clothes as he wrapped them both up in the sheets and rested his forehead against his lover's as they both lay on the thick and fluffed mattress.

Krycek let out an amused snort at his lover's antics. He wasn't certain what felt better - the fluffiness of the pillow or the warmth Remy was radiating. It had been a long time since he had fallen asleep in his lover's arms, longer than he wanted to think about. In fact, thought was becoming more difficult the longer he lay there.

As Alex fell off to sleep Remy laid awake, watching him breath until he was sure his lover was calm and still there. Though he wanted to stay there, watching the calm, angelic and peaceful look of the to- good-to-be-true man before him, his own need for rest eventually closed his own eyes to dreams he wouldn't remember, but would leave him feeling loved.

Rooster Calls:

Remy always found himself waking in the most peculiar positions. Today was no exception. As he stirred he slowly brought in all of his limbs from their various poses, hugging them close to his body as if to make sure they still existed before opening his eyes with a slow and lazy blinking.

Sunlight streaming through the shades was too harsh and filtered to be from morning. Remy stared at the curtains in front of his face before turning his head. "Alex...?" His voice still heavy with sleep but holding a clearly worried tone. He hated waking alone.

"Over here," Krycek called out, exiting the bathroom. He had woken early and immediately alert, a habit he had picked up sleeping in strange places. But not wanting to disturb his lover, he had spent a long time watching him before he slipped out of the bed to use the bathroom.

Lazily, he sauntered back to the bed and sat down on it next to Remy. "I was starting to wonder if you were still alive," he teased.

"Y' t;ink I sleep too much?" Remy chuckled, still sleep-heavy and scooted his lithe form about to lay his shoulders across his lovers lap, looking up at him. "All de more time t' dream o' y'."

Reaching up he caressed the side of Alex's face. "I thought y' had left me fo a moment dere... it felt... I felt... scared." Truthfully he had felt his own heart jump and skip at the idea like one does when one thinks they see a strange shadow when they were certain they were alone on that street in the middle of the night.

Alex petted the top of Remy's head like he was soothing an exotic cat. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry I frightened you." He hadn't thought of what Remy's reaction would have been if he woke up alone. His own would have been similar, although he may not have admitted it.

He continued idly rubbing his lover, his hand now moving lower to Remy's shoulders. "So what are the plans for today?"

Remy closed his eyes to Alex's touch, drawing as much pleasure from it as would a cat. If he had the instruments, he would purr.

"First, we eat. Den, maybe y' can relax?" He said it teasingly. "We don' need t' move fo a while, but whenever y' want."

Hearing a scratching at their door Remy huffed and sat up, annoyed to have to break contact with Alex. But the scratching told him who it was and he quickly lost his impatient air.

"It's Rahne, wit' our late breakfast," he informed before opening the door to the warm platter on the floor with no Rahne in sight.

Shrugging, Remy bent to pick it up and was promptly tackled and sent flying to the floor by a young blonde in pig tails, Tabitha Boom-Boom Smith. Summersaulting she landed on the bed, astride Alex's lap. "Whoooa, Remers, nice one this time!" She laid a kiss on his mouth before flipping backwards and unmounting him.

"Just keep it down, hmm? And maybe," she laughed as she caught sight of Remy's shocked face. "Keep the mansion in one piece?" With one swift shove she sent the platter sliding in and shut the door behind her.

It just went to prove how off kilter Remy had Alex. If anyone else had done that at any other time, they would have been found with their neck snapped. Still staring at the closed door, he said the first thing on his mind.

"What the fuck was that?"

The other thought on his mind was what exactly she meant by 'this time,' but he wouldn't ask that until he got his first question answered. Alex turned to Remy, waiting expectantly for the forthcoming explanation.

Laughing, Remy finally picked himself off the chilly floor. "Dat blonde whirlwind?" He picked up the tray of covered food and set it on the bed. "Tabitha Smith. She a new student, call her BoomBoom."

Remy glanced down at himself, still nude, and blushed. Few people could make Remy LeBeau blush, but leave it to a wild and spunky teen with enough flirt and go-get-her-tiger-ness in her to go the distance with even ... well, Remy LeBeau, to make him turn a bright pink.

"I'm sorry, love." Remy turned his face away until the heat in his face and ears subsided. "Shoulda warned ya but I had no idea she'd be up t'... well." He shrugged, turning back to face Alex.

"Uh huh," Krycek grunted. He was used to dealing with whatever monster of the week Mulder was investigating, or whatever alien of the week that the Consortium was negotiating with. Hyperactive mutant teenagers were something outside of his experience.

First question answered, it was time to ask the second one. He raised an eyebrow at his lover. "Care to explain what she meant by 'nice one this time' Remy?" He wasn't so naive as to think that there weren't others before him, but if she was a new student and was talking like that, the list might be longer than he thought.

The tone was clear enough. Alex was jealous. Remy looked away, he hated seeing that accusing look on his lover's face. "Dere were others. Didn't y' have others?"

Standing he walked to the other side of the room, picking up the two water glasses Tabitha had left. He had wanted to avoid this conversation so much. Explaining his past was a painful chore. His womanizing, bdsm, one night stands, men, groups... nothing he could easily hide from those who knew him well enough.

Walking back over to Alex he handed him one of the glasses, setting his own on the floor as he kneeled before his lover. "I got around," he said, watching Alex's face for reaction. "Dey come an' go. But come mornin' dey were all de same. Some wanted money, others were already gone, an' most had happy lives outside dat room. None needed de way I did, and none could understand me."

Remy looked away again, down at the floor. "I ran from life, hid myself in warm flesh..." He trailed off, ashamed. Hiding himself in warm flesh was exactly what he wanted from Alex all along. Only after he agreed to fight did Remy start thinking of 'settling' and running from life WITH some one.

Krycek watched with an impassive face. But inside he understood Remy's reasoning all too well. It had been a part of the reason he had joined the Fight Club - to run from life and hide, only not so much in flesh but violence. Although he had done his share of hiding in flesh as well.

But even though he understood it, and had done it, it didn't mean that he liked it. He reached down and tangled his fingers in those thick locks. "I don't hide from you, and you don't hide from me. Or I'm out of here." Easier said than done, but he wasn't going to tell Remy that.

Remy nodded, "Oui," a strained whisper. Looking up at Alex like a wide eyed boy with a dirty little secret. It was easier said than done... too much so. Remy hadn't been able to tell ANYONE about his closest, shameful secret. Rogue had only learned of it through a kiss, it had even been secret from her until that day.

He waited as if for a command or tongue lashing, silent for a few moments until he averted his eyes again. "Somet'ings are best left hidden," he whispered with pain. "I don'... I can't. Not now." Kneeling, nude, and vulnerable in more than those ways Remy gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Krycek's hand continued stroking Remy's hair, considering. So there was something more. Now it came down to how important that secret between them would become. Would he be able to live, knowing something was hanging over his head?

Well, he had his share of dark deeds he regretted that he wasn't eager to spill. Remy was right. There were things that were better not to be exposed to the light of day. "Maybe some other day then," Alex said. His hand moved to Remy's shoulder like he was trying to soothe a frightened animal.

The memory, held so near for a split second, in waiting to be revealed if he had to keep Alex from leaving, now weighted his mind. He sighed at Alex's word, jaw muscles relaxing. But it was still another moment before he had the memory partially buried again and could raise his head.

"Another day," he repeated and placed his hand over Alex's.

Alex nodded. He wouldn't push to find out this secret right away, but this would stay back of his mind. They would have to confront it eventually, but right now their relationship was still to new and fragile. There was already enough strain on it at the moment.

His stomach rumbled, and Alex turned half of his attention to the tray of food. "Come on, get up here," he said, tugging at Remy.

Embarrassed at how he let the memory affect him Remy stood and disappeared into the restroom for a moment, returning fully dressed and with his hair tousled but brushed.

The renewed appearance aided the return of his usual carefree manner. Returning to the bed he wordlessly and teasingly nudged and prodded Alex until he sat at against the top of the bed against the pillows.

Unlidding their breakfast he nearly moaned at the omelet awaiting their eager lips. Crawling up to straddle Alex' hips Remy grabbed the fork and offered Alex the first bite.

The return of Remy's seemingly indomitable spirit cheered Alex. As did how his lover had guided him back into bed. As did the feeling of his weight on his legs. The smells wafting from the breakfast tray sparked his hunger even more. But now at least he had a chance to indulge.

Making a big show of it, Krycek leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the fork. Slowly he drew his head back and slowly swallowed, letting out a small, satisfied moan, more than aware of Remy's eyes on him.

Remy watched with widening eyes as his lover openly teased him with a breakfast food... of all things! Taking his own bite he regarded Alex with an amused and perked eye brow. Still, that look... those lips... the slow and seemingly yearning manner ending with a moan...

Remy Reached for the glasses, holding Alex's up to his lip and waited for the next tease show. Shackles and chains and punishment for being too good looking while eating a breakfast item sprang to mind. Remy grinned.

Alex smiled deviously, glad that his attempt to get his lover's mind off of his worries was working. And he intended to keep Remy's mind off of whatever that memory was that had upset him so.

Tilting his head forward, he took a sip. He frowned at a slight chemical taste, but he trusted that his lover wasn't going to let him be poisoned. Putting it down to a difference in the area's water supply, he ran his tongue around the rim of the glass.

Remy tsked, shaking his head. "Chere, if y' had any hair on dat head o' yours y'd find me forcin' dis whole glass down dat gorgeous throat 'bout now." As if hoping Alex's hair grew over night he reached around and threaded fingers into his lovers short shiny black hair, massaging his nape when he found nothing long enough to grab.

Still, he was liking the show, and didn't withdraw the glass just yet. "Show me what y'd y' do t' me if I was dis glass... on dis glass." He smirked, glass held in wait.

Krycek's eyes never left Remy's as he leaned forward again. His tongue appeared to lightly wet his lips before snaking out to slip around the rim yet again. Ducking his head slightly, Alex ran the flat of his tongue up the length of his glass, lapping up the beads of condensation.

Of course, he couldn't do everything he wanted to do to Remy. It was too wide for him to wrap his lips around and draw into his mouth. Instead he concentrated on giving the glass a tongue bath, making sure no square inch of it was missed.

At first Remy smirked, enjoying their game. But that knowing tongue, those seductive greens... he'd never look at a simple glass the same way again.

A complaint from his stomach brought him back from his daze as Krycek bathed the glass. Despite a twitching in his tight jeans, firmly straddling Krycek's, he had to get rid of the insistent hunger plaguing his stomach before he satisfied the other growing hunger.

"Y' will be de death o' me, Alex Krycek," Remy said, a bit breathless, and reluctantly set the glass aside to go about feeding them again.

Krycek chuckled, and tried to ignore the chill at Remy's words. The Consortium wasn't the kind of organization you could just submit a resignation to. Although there were many ways to become a member, there was only one way out. And it came down to it being a question of whether or not it was voluntary, such as suicide, or involuntary. And they would have no compunctions about doing the same to potential witnesses.

Shaking off the thought of doom and gloom, Alex selected a liberally buttered biscuit and held it out to Remy. "Why don't you show me what you can do with your mouth, lover?"

"Y' already know DAT, though you are due a reminder, oui?" Remy's eye twinkled.

Turning his attention back to the buttered biscuit Remy eased his mouth to it, lifted his lips just high enough they wouldn't touch the biscuit yet and bit down a nibbling bite. Rolling his eyes up and closed Remy broke the bite away, sealing his lips over it and rolling it's butteriness along his tongue before swallowing.

Grabbing Krycek's wrist he held it place as he nibbled one bite after another, each delicious morsel reflected as pure lustful sin on Remy's face. His thumb stroked the soft part of his lovers wrist, directly below the bend.

Taking the last nibble from between thumb and forefinger Remy still held Alex' wrist. Moaning as the last bite was swallowed Remy then took his lover's fingers to task. Licking each finger tip before selecting his index finger to indulge; taking it into his mouth with another angelic moan, his tongue drawing it in slowly to scrub the butter from it.

Alex closed his eyes, the better to concentrate on the feel of Remy's tongue on his mouth. Normally, the devilish expression on that angelic face would be enough to get Alex stone hard. Let alone the wicked thing Remy was doing with his tongue. But this time nothing was happening.

Remy treated his lover's middle finger much like he would his favorite treat, though he couldn't get it to his throat without taking on the mass of the hand as well. He couldn't help it, the twitching had turned into a steady hardening within his jeans. His increasing bulge was pressed right against his lovers though he didn't feel a returning pressure.

Smirking, Remy rolled his hips as he continued bathing Alex' fingers and hands now with teeth and tongue. "Stubborn, chere?" he mumbled around the cleaning duty.

Part Five

"Normally, no." He was willing to put it down to the fact that it had been a stressful trip and he was no longer a young man. But Alex Krycek had been able to keep up with the best. Maybe now his body was trying to tell him to slow down.

Except that he didn't want to slow down. Mentally, he wanted to flip Remy over on his back and bury himself deep in his lover's body. Except his body didn't seem to want to cooperate, even with that attractive image as a reward. "I swear this has never happened before," he growled.

Cooing, Remy placed a finger over his lover's lips to quiet him, and calm the growl. "S'okay love, happens t' de best." he leaned forward and took Alex' ear lobe into his mouth, tugging with his teeth and bathing it with his warm, moist tongue.

"An' Remy adores de challenge..." he breathed hotly into Alex' ear after moaning around the lobe. His hips still rolled and ground, slowly and with pauses between each action as he pressed his lips to his lovers and drew him into a long, slow, and sensual kiss.

Leave it to his impulsive lover to see this as a challenge to overcome. Alex squirmed closer to Remy, trying to ignore his lack of reaction. Instead he concentrated on the kiss, on the firmness of his lover's body against his.

His own hands weren't idle either as he returned the kiss. They roamed up and down Remy's back and sides restlessly as Alex waited for his body to react.

Lifting his body just enough to slide his own hands in between them, Remy felt the sculpted chest beneath him till he found two perked nipples to tease. Tugging and rolling them between his fingers Remy broke the kiss, hanging onto Alex's lower lip to suck and pull between his teeth.

The erection trapped in his tight jeans was becoming painful, but Remy ignored it as he concentrated on trying to create the same pleasurable pain for his lover.

Releasing his lip after drawing a drop of blood from a sharp canine tooth Remy left the drop for Krycek to taste as he moved to suck on his collar bone.

Alex moaned at the taste of his blood. It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong. As a matter of fact, Remy was doing everything right. If he had an erection, the mutant would have found himself pinned down and Krycek pounding away inside of him.

Instead he rubbed his crotch against his lover, trying to get his cock to respond to any stimulation. The hot, wet mouth traveling against his chest should have been more than enough. But for some reason it wasn't. He let out a growl of frustration low in his throat.

Remy looked up as he both heard and felt the growl beneath his nipping teeth. Remy had wondered up until that growl if he was losing his touch. Now he knew the frustration inside his lover's mind and wished to put at ease... though how, was another story.

"Relax, chere, Remy takin' care ' y'," he crooned, sliding down Alex's legs to lay a hand over his pants. "Don' flinch," he added with a grin as the jeans below his hand began glowing a deep crimson, his eyes glowing a brighter shade as his mutant gift was tapped.

The jeans warmed as they turned into kinetic energy. Not hot, but not gentle either. The warm that people gladly sink aching joints into. Molecule by molecule the jeans began to dissipate* in the area beneath and around Remy's massaging hand.

The hand over him felt at first comfortably warm. Then his jeans started feeling in one patch hot, like they had just been pulled from a dryer. Looking down he saw his jeans disappearing beneath Remy's hand. "Holy shit," he whispered under his breath.

Moaning with a smirk Remy leaned over to brush his lips against Alex's. "Jus' wait till I put dat dirty mouth o' y'rs t' better use." His hand never stopped it's massaging, and the slowly disappearing jeans-crotch never stopped it's disappearing act.

As the hole in the jeans finally fully dissipated to allow Remy's hand to rest on the boxers the glowing faded as Remy moved his hands into the side slit, touching Alex before the warming returned. Air molecules found themselves being devoured, the sensation a warm tingling.

"Anyt'ing, chere?"

Growling and fighting the urge to squirm, Krycek shook his head. He was still not reacting physically, although mentally he wanted to bend Remy over. To feel Remy's tongue caress his erection like Alex had earlier caressed the glass...

.of odd smelling water.

"Shit!" Krycek said, his eyes widening in understanding. It was the only thing that made sense. "Somebody put something in the water!"

Groaning, Remy let his head hang between his shoulders. Of course. Tabitha. Sighing Remy reached over and across Alex's body to snatch the glass and sniff at it. It was only a hint, but if one knew what they were smelling for it could be obvious.

Placing it back down Remy rolled off of Alex and laid on his back next to him. "Dieu," he cursed. "De lil cretin go too far."

Krycek let his head thump back against the pillow. Some of the tension was gone, now knowing the cause of his lack of reaction. But there was an irritation towards Tabitha for what she obviously considered a humorous prank. He wondered if any of Remy's other lovers had gotten similar treatment.

He blew out a loud exhale, puffing his cheeks out. Alex tried to remember if there was any antidote for saltpeter, which is what he guessed she used. Unfortunately, he couldn't recall any. "So I guess all we can do is wait this out."

"O'course... dere other t'ings t' do other dan dat..." Remy bit his lip with a groan, the tightness in his jeans now unbearable with the knowledge he wouldn't be able to put it to use.

He made a mental note to inform Tabitha's next Danger Room instructor of a little prank she had pulled, details changed so it wouldn't involve saltpeter or sex at all, but enough that Jean wouldn't go easy on the brat.

Swinging his legs over the bed Remy stepped towards the restroom. "Scuse me, chere, jus' a moment."

Squirming over to the edge of the bed, Krycek managed to get his hand on Remy's shoulder just before he passed beyond reach. "There are *other* things to do than that," Alex agreed, pursing his lips suggestively. "And if you turn around, I can show you exactly what. Besides, maybe the activity will help get this stuff out of my system faster."

Remy felt a twinge of guilt, he hadn't meant for it to come out like that, there were other things to do on the grounds, things he wanted to show Alex... but not with an unsightly bulge in his pants and with young lady students on campus grounds.

Still, he doubted Alex was doing this out of sympathy. Turning, Remy bent to lay a kiss on his lips. "Only if y' want t', chere."

Alex kissed his lips, pulling lightly on them. "Just because I can't Remy," he said, starting to kiss a trail down his neck. "Doesn't mean that I don't want to." His hand slid down to Remy's hip slowly. "So why don't you," he paused to kiss the base of Remy's neck. "Let," another kiss on his breastbone. "Me," a kiss on the left pectoral. "Take," a kiss to the right pectoral. "Care," a kiss to the base of the sternum "Of," a kiss with a hint of tongue to his navel. "You."

Remy's eyes had slipped closed as Alex kissed his way down, the words sending a shiver to his thighs and down to his calves. His erection was screaming to be released, to feel Alex's soft and gentle, and dirty, mouth upon it.

With a sighing moan Remy petted his lover's hair. "Oui, Alex my love, take care o' me... Dieu, I want t' scream fo y'." With his other hand he slowly pushed the button out of it's slot, slid down the zipper, and rolled his hips as he pushed his jeans down about his knees. He hadn't bothered yet to don a new set of boxers and was now completely exposed for his lover's taking.

Alex made a big show of leaning into his lover's groin and inhaling deeply. This had been something he wanted to do to his lover, but the time hadn't seemed to be right before. Now seemed to be the perfect time.

Gently he took hold of the base, letting his hand stroke Remy's length a few times. Eyes looking up into his lovers, Alex touched the tip of his tongue to the spongy head before turning his head at a slight angle and swallowing Remy slowly.

Remy watched as Alex swallowed him, hands trying to find some form of purchase within his short black mane but settling instead to grip Alex's shoulders. A shuddering sigh slipped past his moist and parted lips at the feel of his lover's warm tongue and throat around him.

"Yesss, Alexx, Rem' all y'rs," he slurred, eye lashes shading his bright reds. "J'ai besoin de vous... j'ai besoin de vous si mauvais." (i need you, i need you so bad.)

Alex recognized the emotions, but not the meaning of the words. He allowed himself a brief smile as he continued to work Remy with his lips and throat. He firmly scrubbed his tongue against the prominent vein along the underside.

Then he started bobbing his head, swallowing Remy almost to his root. Lips firmly caressing him, He kept a slow steady rhythm, his hand braced on Remy's hip.

Remy gasped, a short cut "aah" released as his hands gripped his lover's shoulders tighter. "Alex," another moan as he ran his gripping fingers down Alex's shoulder blades, his hips now unable to contain the gentle thrusting willed from his angel's mouth.

He could feel the end approaching too fast, he wanted more, so much more from this man before him though. "Dieu," a moan, hands once more along his lover's scalp and short mane. "My love," a sudden stiffening in his spine and thigh muscles. "Yes, Alexxx!" a loud moan as he gave Alex his hot seed, splashing into his angel's mouth and throat.

Alex swallowed, not wanting to waste a precious drop. His tongue continued to lap at Remy, cleaning him gently, aware that his lover would now be almost oversensitive. But he didn't relax his grip on his lover's hip.

Eventually he pulled away and looked up at Remy with half hooded eyes. He smirked, satisfied at the expression on his lover's face. "Enjoyed that?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Dazed, and feeling quite satisfied, Remy rested both knees on the bed, drawing him down closer to Alex. In answer Remy cupped his angel's face with both hands and kissed him, slow and gentle. A soft sigh as he tasted himself upon those magical lips and tongue.

"I will neva get enough o' y'," his speech still a bit slurred and lazy with after glow. Leaning into and against Alex's chest he half sat and half lay, circling lazy circles on his lover's shoulder with an index finger.

Emotional admissions like that still frightened Krycek. Not quite able to support his weight and Remy's, Alex leaned back onto the bed, bringing his lover with him. And as Remy's finger continued to caress him, he felt a stirring of interest He smirked, shaking his head. "Of course now I'm reacting," he mumbled.

Remy smirked as he listened to the thick droning of Alex's heart beat, his head against his chest. "Oui?" His lazy circling fingers found their way over to a nipple, barely touching, teasing with a dancing pitter patter movement.

"Remy can handle it, he take care o' y'r need." Shifting his position a bit he kissed and bite the nipple closest to him. "Jus' tell him what y' want t' do." He glanced slyly up at his angel's face.

Krycek's eyes drifted shut as he concentrated on the sensation of Remy's lips and fingers. "Just keep doing that," he encouraged Remy, stroking his lover's long hair. He jumped slightly when the sharp teeth tugged on his nipple, but Alex didn't tell him to stop.

Smirking, Remy got to his hands and knees to hover over Alex's body. Licking over Alex's tight chest to the other nipple where he bit and tugged until it was nicely erect like it's brother.

Moving to his ears and neck Remy blew hot air against the lobe before taking it into his mouth to nibble and bathe. "I'm goin' t'," he began in between sharp nibbles and gentle tongue baths. "Do dis t' y'r whole body."

Moving down he laid his lips and tongue on his neck. "Slowly." He began sucking, hard enough to leave a red mark, hard enough to hurt with the dull throbbing of blood gathering beneath his lips and Alex's skin.

Krycek squirmed under Remy's talented mouth. It was so tempting to reach out and pull him against his body in a crushing embrace. Instead he forced himself to be patient, reminding himself that it would have its reward.

But he couldn't resist running his hand through Remy's hair, encouraging him lower. "So how slowly are you going to do this?" he rasped.

Pleased with the yearning in his lover's voice, Remy broke the suction on his neck to admire the red mark. He didn't answer the question, leaving him hanging, as he licked lower to his collar bone and then to his upper chest.

"Pet me, Alex. Tell me what a good boy I am," he murred as he latched his lips and tongue to a point between each pectoral muscle. Another red mark began.

Straddling his hips Remy felt the start of an erection pressing against him. Hands came between their warm bodies, touching, feeling, pressing Alex's abs.

"You're a very good boy, Remy. Especially if you keep that up." Alex's hand gently stroked over her Remy's head and shoulders. "A heavenly face with one hell of a body." He caught himself wishing that he had both hands to run over his lover's back. The muscles of his stomach flexed under Remy's skillful and slightly ticklish assault.

His body seemed to have no problem reacting now. But Krycek wasn't in any hurry to end this encounter. A lazy seduction was all too rare in his world, and Alex intended to make the most of it. Especially with such a talented lover.

Remy murred at Alex's voice, butting his head up against the petting hand as he finished another work of art- a bright red-to-pink mark in the center of his lover's chest.

"Tell Remy 'bout his body," he breathed, inching his hips down so he could scoot his lips further south. Pausing just above his belly button. "Tell Remy what y' want t' do t' his body," he moaned, tongue delving into the shallow of his angel's stomach before trailing a moist kiss out of the small depression.

His lips sealed again, sucking, licking while his hands moved to the hips just a but further south. Teasing fingertips rubbed, touched, and caressed his thighs... getting close to, but never touching his throbbing erection.

Alex continued to squirm, lightly pushing on Remy's head, trying to encourage him further downward. "I want to feel you under me, over me, inside me, around me." He swiveled his hips, trying to get his erection in contact with Remy's talented hands.

It was so tempting to just grab Remy by the back of his head and force him where Alex wanted him. But Krycek had learned that patience was a virtue and that would have great rewards.

Remy chuckled at the insistence of his lover's wriggling body and words. "Soon, chere. Soon." He whispered, lips blowing a cool trail down from the most recent marking to just below his belly button. Inhaling