Title: Like This BeforeAuthor: Amazon X
E-mail: yankeestarbuck@yahoo.com
Website: http://yankeestarbuck.tripod.com
Feedback: Why, yes, thank you!
Category: slash, first time
Rating: Adult
Summary: "Why do I know your face?"
Archive: The Basement, Full House Slash, Gossamer, WWOMB, and if I OKed when I signed up on the list, go for it. Anyone else, just tell me!
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, I have no money.
Notes: The song I got is not the kind of song I would normally listen to for...any reason. But of course, I do rather well, apparently, with writing assignments, so I read over the lyrics, then listened to the song, and the story hit me, much like my wheel debut. I'm thankful I got a Broadway showtune and not a country-western song. Then again, if I get one of those, I'll just put them back on the ranch! Enjoy!
*-*-*-*
Assistant Director Walter Skinner sat in his meeting, watching the young agent give his statement about the case at hand, lovers lane killings. The young kid had made the case that it was not a man, but the woman who had "miraculously" discovered each of the dead teenaged couples. "Clearly, Agent Mulder was correct in his assessment that she was suffering from Munchausen Syndrome By Proxy and not O.C.D. Too bad he's not here so I can thank him."
"He's in Antarctica, but I'll let him know when he returns," Skinner said, smoothly. "OK, gentlemen, we'll conclude until we meet with the federal prosecutor. Thank you."
The agents all stood up to leave, but Skinner called out to the star of the meeting. "Agent Krycek, can you stay a moment? I'd like to discuss something with you."
Special Agent Alex Krycek turned to Skinner and smiled. He looked at his partner and said, "Go on, Ramsey, I'm OK." The other agent nodded and left the office. Skinner walked around to his big chair behind the desk and sat down. He held out his hand, indicating to Krycek to sit across from him.
"Is there something you wanted to discuss about the report, sir?" Krycek asked, a bit nervous.
"Ah, no, agent, I...this is difficult for me to say." Skinner cleared his throat behind his fist, looking for all intents and purposes, embarrassed.
"Just say it, sir. We're the only ones in the room," Krycek said softly, with something that hinted to Skinner of anticipation. The green agent, with his bad suit and over-gelled hair, looked as if he were fairly bouncing in his chair. A part of Skinner's libido, long since forgotten and tucked away, sat up to notice the thigh muscles visible against the tight polyester pant legs.
"I have...this...feeling that I know you from somewhere. I don't think we've ever met, though. You're a bit younger than me, so your memory is better than mine. Have we met before? Why do I know your face?"
Krycek dipped his head and blushed, surprising Skinner. "Yes, sir, we have met. Close to twenty years ago, but yes, we have met before. At the Odessa Society banquet, in Brighton Beach. You were accompanying your mother, when your father was away on business. If I recall correctly, it was your only time attending the banquet."
Skinner gave him a quizzical look, and shook his head a bit. "You remember that? I think it *was* almost twenty years ago. I was an agent at the time, and was barely able to get that weekend free. My mother didn't want to travel from Harrisburg to New York City alone. You have an excellent memory, Agent Krycek."
Taking a deep breath, the young agent raised his eyes to Skinner timidly. "You were a pretty unforgettable sight."
Skinner cleared his throat to cover up his nervous laugh. "Oh, I doubt that. I was well into going bald at the time, trying to keep up with my wife and my job. I was tired all the time, and I know..."
"You were nice to me," Krycek interrupted. "Most of the people there knew me, knew I was just a precocious kid trying to get some attention. You treated me with respect. We talked about the bureau and police work a little, mostly you just told me the kinds of cases you had that I might have been interested in. But your mom wasn't feeling well and you left early with her."
Skinner nodded sadly. "She had breast cancer and was keeping it from me. But, she went on another ten years, through both mastectomies, to see my father go first."
"I know. My mother told me. They were friends. I'm very sorry. I didn't go to the funerals, since I was in the police academy at the time. I feel badly about that." Krycek looked down that the folded hands in his lap.
"Forgive yourself, I do. And so it seems that we have met before..."
"And laughed before." Krycek interrupted, his smile returning.
"Laughed? How so?" Skinner sat back in his chair, intrigued.
"I told you a couple of bad jokes. To pass the time and make you smile."
"Did it work?" Skinner asked, thoroughly fascinated. He had no recollection of the meeting whatsoever, barely remembering the function itself, lost in the memories of his mother's illness.
"A little. You were more concerned about your mother than interested in listening to a fourteen-year-old tell semi-dirty jokes." Krycek looked down again with a sheepish blush coloring his cheeks. The flushed face of the young agent was beginning to heat Skinner's loins.
"You were fourteen? Well, I'm sorry we didn't talk more."
"Oh, no, sir!" he said quickly. "It was what you told me about your background that made me go to the police academy and then apply for the bureau. You really inspired me."
It was Skinner's turn to blush. He nodded and glanced at his desk clock, seeing he was almost late for another meeting. "Agent Krycek, I have to cut you short, I'm sorry. I have another meeting, but I would like to talk to you more about this. Are you free after work tonight? My wife is out of town on business and I hate to cook. We could find a steak house..."
"I'd love to. Thank you, sir," he said eagerly. He fairly jumped from his seat, all eager puppy swirling about him. They shook hands and Krycek almost floated out of the office on his personal Cloud 9. Kim stuck her head in and asked, "Sir...did..."
"Kim, don't you have some filing that's piling up on your desk?" he asked. He needed to get rid of her. 'Who was that redhead down in accounting that was always so sharp?' he thought for a moment. He's have to enquire about her availability when he could get rid of this typical blonde bimbo. Resolving to speak to Human Resources as soon as he could, Skinner went to his next meeting.
*-*-*-*
After his last meeting, Skinner walked to the parking garage and found Krycek waiting for him by his Crown Victoria. "Agent Krycek, I'm sorry, I thought you would meet me at the restaurant. I left you the message on your voice mail."
"Oh, it's near where I live, and I take the bus, so...to be honest, I thought I'd...catch a ride. Sorry, is that too presumptuous?" The brilliant smile that Skinner was beginning to get used to flashed by him.
"Not at all. I'd be happy to make sure you get home safely." Skinner was quite surprised by his words, quickly adding, "It's my duty as your supervisor." Drawing the line early in a date...DATE? A date? Skinner hadn't been on a date...since he got married. 'Remember, Sparky, you're married. You love your wife, even though she's never home. You respect your wife, even if she *is* carrying on with that young painter. Don't do this.'
Arriving at last year's hot spot, Giardetto's Steak House, Skinner was pleased to find it not as crowded when he'd first brought Sharon there because, "It's good for people to see me around the city, Walter. That's was public relations is all about!"
He didn't like waiting at the bar for over ninety minutes, while consuming two scotches, getting drunk quickly, which made him amorous, and of course, as he stroked Sharon's leg under the table, ensuring her rage and his place on the couch.
They got their table, ordered scotch for Skinner and a Canadian beer for Krycek. The small talk about the latest case moved quickly to the time they met. "I'm sorry, agent..."
"Alex, sir. My name is Alex." A flash of proper white blinded him a moment.
"Well, Alex, my name is Walter."
"No nickname? Well, other than what your mother called you that night?" Krycek tilted his head to the side, letting the longish hair he'd brushed all the gel from fall onto his brow.
"Alex, no one calls me that. It's something that ended up spilling over into my military service..."
"Oh, now you have to tell me. You can't let something like that slip out. Please?" With his eyebrows up so high, Skinner could not resist the puppy dog look he was getting from Krycek.
"Oh, God, I know I'll regret this. OK, when I was younger, my father bought me one of those transistor radio kits that you had to build yourself. I hope they had them when you were young."
"I got a chemistry set, myself."
"So you know what I mean. Well, I started working on it, and it just...wasn't receiving like I thought it should with that tiny nine-volt battery it came with. So, without anyone's permission, I took apart a lantern, took the battery and connectors and tried to upgrade my radio. Well, my father came by to see what I was doing, and called my mother over. He thought it showed great initiative. Well, when I turned the set on, with the new battery source, it sparked up really bright and started to burn. All the while I'm trying to put it out, they were laughing, and started calling me Sparky after that. But...they never told anyone the real story. Just told them that I had such a spark of intelligence. My father was good that way."
Both men held aloft their drinks in silent tribute to Walter Skinner senior. Krycek swallowed his mouthful then smiled widely. "OK, then, Walter, no more maudlin memories."
"Agreed." So they talked about everything; sports, politics, religion, books, movies, and were pleasantly surprised to find that they had remarkably similar tastes. Both were raised by very strong, intelligent Russian women, but where Skinner's father was obviously Irish, Krycek was all Russian. "I suppose it was different for you having parents that emigrated here. Both my mother and father were born here, but mother wanted to be in touch with her heritage, as her mother taught her, so she joined the Odessa Society. My father wasn't too crazy about going to New York several times a year, though."
"Oh why? I grew up in Brighton Beach. And that movie, the Neil Simon one, it was dead on, well, for the sixties, anyway. And later on, in the seventies, my mother and father didn't like the way things were going in Brooklyn, and we moved to Westchester. Thankfully so, our neighborhood went nuts in 1977 with the blackout."
"I can imagine. I was a cop in Texas at the time, waiting to get into the bureau, and I was thankful I wasn't there. My mother called me three times to make sure Austin still had lights. What a lady."
Another silent toast was raised to Yanina "Jenny" Skinner. Realizing the late hour, Skinner insisted on paying the bill for their steaks, which Krycek was bold to admit he was relieved about it. "I wish I had more money. I do love a hot, thick piece of meat once in a while."
Skinner turned to him, and the gleam in Krycek's eye was unmistakable. Skinner cleared his throat and said, "So, Alex, you don't live far from here?" The 'I hope' went unsaid, but echoed in Skinner's mind. He had to get this young man home, and out of his presence, or he might forget his wedding vows.
"No, just a few streets away. Would you come up a moment? I have this fabulous red wine, for after dinner, a cabernet sauvignon from Montrichard. You'll love it. Trust me."
"You know wine?" Skinner asked, impressed by his agent.
"I know a lot of things," he said, letting the rest of the statement hang infinite.
Skinner took that for what it was worth and quickly followed Krycek's directions to his apartment. It was a rather large two-room place in a small building, much like Mulder's apartment house. He followed the young man's tight, swaying ass up the stairs and into the door on the far end of the hall. The place was small and neat, the rundown furniture badly hidden behind colorful afghans and throw pillows. "Just hang your coat on the pegboard. I don't have a proper coat closet, so I had to improvise."
There was a long board on the wall, containing was looked like most of Krycek's jackets hanging on one peg or another. There were a few empty pegs, so Walter hung his trench coat on one. He looked around the room while Krycek was working in the small kitchen alcove. "Shit!" he heard from the corner of the room.
"What's wrong?" Skinner asked, starting to make his way over.
"I forgot something. Red wine has to breathe for an hour or so before served. I'm sure you don't want to wait around that long..." Krycek trailed off, his face fallen.
"I'm sure we can find something else to talk about while the wine breathes. You must have some music in this place." Skinner couldn't help the smile spread across his face. Krycek smiled back and led Skinner to the couch. The younger man went to his small stereo and started a CD, the old Motown sounds of soul wafting into the room on creamy smooth voices and classic acoustic instruments. Skinner sat back with his eyes closed and just listened.
"You like Otis Redding?" Krycek asked.
"I grew up listening to this stuff. Yeah, this is damn good music." They sat back and listened for a while, until Skinner felt something on his leg. Krycek's hot palm rested in the middle of his thigh, just gently sitting there. He looked down at the hand, then over at the younger man who was staring at him with smoky, leaf-green eyes. "Agent Krycek..."
The hand was snatched away like Skinner's pants were on fire. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to..."
"To what? Make inappropriate advances on your boss? Look, I don't care if you're gay, agent..."
"I'm not just gay, sir," he interrupted.
"No, but using sex to advance will not work in the bureau..."
"What!" Krycek shouted, jumping up from the couch. "I can't believe...get out! Just get out of my apartment!" Krycek turned his back on Skinner and turned off the stereo. Skinner went to get his coat when Krycek whirled around and yelled, "If you think this was just me using you to advance, I guess you never spoke to your mother after that banquet, then, did you?"
Skinner turned back, the mention of his mother causing the heat to rise in his face. "Don't speak of my mother in that tone of voice, agent," he ground out.
"Oh, don't think I'm insulting her, *sir*. Teta Yanina was family. She would sit with my mother and drink tea and tell us all about her fabulous son, the FBI agent. You were a god in our house, and I broke my back to get into the police academy, since Big Vlad was a cop in Texas. Then, I swear, I didn't sleep for weeks to study for the FBI academy entrance exam! I've been in love with you since the time I met you! You think this was about getting ahead in the bureau? You are truly dense."
Skinner stood dumbstruck. Krycek's chest heaved as the young man seemed to try to keep his emotions under control, but his strong feelings for his boss were written all over his face. Skinner felt like a heel. He was being seduced for himself, and he didn't even have the sense to see it. Someone had pined over him, for years.
"I'm sorry, Alex, please. I didn't..."
"Didn't what? Think I was such a goddam fairy?" he yelled, a tear spilling down his cheek.
"No, I didn't really think anyone thought that way about me. I mean, my wife married me because she thought I would be a good provider, not because she was in love with me. I don't think she loves me at all, not with the twenty-three-year-old painter she's sleeping with."
Krycek's brows knitted in concern at Skinner's candid statement. "To hear that all these years you've emulated me, cared...shit, *loved* me, it's hard to believe. And it warms my heart. I...thank you. That must have been very difficult for you."
"I didn't mean to yell, but you broke my heart, you know."
"I'm sorry."
"It's ok." Krycek was nodding, wiping the tears from his cheeks, a smile breaking through the clouds of his face.
Skinner walked toward him, the intention to shake Krycek's hand, but the proffered appendage was pushed away and Krycek reached out, grabbed Skinner's face in both hands and kissed him. Skinner felt a hot tongue trying to gain entrance into his mouth, and it had been so long since he was properly kissed, that he let the boy deepen it, arms going around the big man's shoulders. Skinner knew he'd let it go on too long when Krycek pressed his erection into his hip. He pushed back gently, looking down into sexy, green cat-eyes.
"Alex, I'm sorry...I'm...we work..."
Krycek's face fell and he droned, "I know. You're married. You're my boss. We work together. This isn't right. I'll see you tomorrow."
"No, wait," he said, quickly grabbing Krycek's hand as the younger man turned away. He looked back into the emerald depths, and seeing such naked emotion and longing, all directed at him, it overwhelmed him. He wasn't a virgin when it came to sex with men, but it had been a long time since he had even kissed another man before that night. He missed the difference, the taste, the smell, the sheer hardness of another body. He didn't have to be delicate, or gentle. He could grab the other man's hips and his ass and squeeze and bite, and not worry about fragile female flesh.
"I hear these apartments have tiny bedrooms," Skinner said, eyes half closing.
"Mine's pretty decent," Krycek answered, a small grin growing across his plump lips.
"Show me," Skinner commanded and allowed Krycek to pull him into the bedroom. It was dominated by the Queen-sized bed, but the night stands and dresser matched the dark cherry wood. "Ah, this is nice."
"Bed is firm."
Skinner sat on the bed and bounced a bit. "So it is. Good for my back. I'm an old man, after all."
Krycek put a knee on the bed beside Skinner and rasped, "Show me what an old man can do."
Taking the elfin face into his hands, Skinner kissed Krycek, mimicking the younger man's earlier kiss, pressing his tongue and pulling the strong, lean body into his arms. Krycek lay on top of him, pressing the renewed hardness into his belly, knees on either side of Skinner's body. "You are so sexy, Walter," Krycek ground out.
"You are pretty handsome yourself. Take off your clothes, let me see everything," Skinner commanded gently.
Krycek smiled and stood back, reaching for the button on his suit jacket. He reached back, draping it over a chair by the door Skinner hadn't seen when he first entered. Shoes under the chair and the rest of the clothes joining that jacket, inch by delicious inch of young, firm, silky flesh was revealed. A dusky nipple, long column of throat, hairless belly, strong legs, all presented to Skinner as a gift. "Can I undress you, please? It's a fantasy of mine."
"Far be it from me to deny you a fantasy," Skinner answered and stood before his naked gift.
Krycek went to work, slipping the suit jacket from the strong shoulders, revealing acres of starched white shirt bisected by the navy blue paisley-patterned tie. It was not so carefully slipped from around Skinner's neck to be tossed in the direction of the chair. Skinner didn't really care where his clothes landed. He had a talented dry cleaner.
Krycek was slow and methodical, but undressed his fantasy man with subdued urgency that befit his excited state. Skinner took hold of Krycek's weeping cock and stroked it gently as the young man kissed him, both completely naked and aroused. Krycek pushed back and gasped. "Stop, please, I'll come all over you."
"You're a younger man than I am," Skinner said with a gleam in his eye.
"I'm not that young," Krycek moaned into Skinner's ear, pulling him towards the bed. They fell in a heap, bouncing on the thick comforter. Skinner rolled Krycek under him, grinding their hips together as the kissed and touched, learning one another. Skinner loved tasting the pink nipples that he proceeded to nibble into a rich red, examining the shallow navel and following the fur path to the long, thick cock that jutted from the young man's body. He hadn't performed oral sex on a man since he was in college, but was willing to relearn the ropes. Hands pushing away his shoulders stopped him short.
"Please, just fuck me, OK? We can suck later." Skinner nodded, watching in fascination as Krycek pulled condoms and a tube of lube from the drawer beside the bed. Letting the condom fall on the bed, Skinner grabbed the lube and coated two of his fingers. Krycek, being smart and observant, lay back on the bed and spread his legs. Skinner pressed his mouth on Krycek, reveling in the younger man's fine ability at kissing while he traced the dark ring of muscle between his ass cheeks. First one finger slipped in, then two, by the time Skinner felt as if he couldn't hold back any longer, Krycek was a moaning, writhing heap on the bed.
Quickly donning the condom and more lube, he hauled Krycek's legs onto his shoulders and slid home. Krycek threw his head back and shouted in pleasure. That was where Skinner wanted to be, buried balls-deep in this young sweet boy's ass. He began moving, watching the emotions play over Krycek's face, the pleasure, a little pain when he started and the ecstasy when Skinner found the small, round ball of prostate. He slid past it, making sure to give it a jab as he plowed back and forth, feeling the pressure and ripple of the talented ass.
"Fucking hell, Alex! You have the greatest ass I've ever been in," Skinner shouted, thrusting harder. Krycek had no words for him, only moans and pants, reaching to take his cock in both hands, stroking himself firmly. He spurted come all over Skinner's chest and belly, but the contractions of his ass spurred Skinner on to his own orgasm, bringing out a loud grunt and shout from the big man. He collapsed on Krycek's chest heaving for breath.
Krycek's hands moved slowly about Skinner's back, soothing him. But the odd sounds and jerky movements the young man was making under him brought Skinner back abruptly. He leaned up on his elbows and looked down at Krycek. The tears in his eyes, face turned away told an interesting tale. "Hey, did I hurt you?" he asked the other man.
"No, no, I'm sorry, I'm fine," he said, quickly wiping his eyes.
Skinner moved off to the side and reached out to stroke a wet cheek. "You can't be fine if you're crying, Alex. And I'm not that good in bed. So talk to me, tell me what's going on in your head."
Skinner was shocking himself. He rarely spoke to his wife about any of his feelings, other than headaches and acid reflux. Here he was, drawing out the emotions of his agent-turned-lover.
"I mean...this is my dream. To be in bed with you, making love to you. I've dreamt of this all my life, and now...it's over. And you'll leave." Krycek looked away again. Skinner could see more tears welling in his eyes.
"Well, unless you're kicking me out, I guess we will at least make love again. And who says we have to stop seeing each other?" Skinner admitted.
Krycek cracked a bit of a smile.
*-*-*-*
The two men made love again that night, giving the promised oral sex, then settling in each other's arms to get some sleep. Saturday morning would see Krycek getting them fresh fruit and croissants from the store down the block, and he'd make the fresh French roast coffee he loved for his new lover. As he started to drift off, he thought about how easily the first part of his assignment had gone off. The next step would be to get on a case with Mulder. Krycek sighed deeply. He hoped his mother would forgive him for betraying her favorite man, her Big Vlad. He'd lived in that shadow for too damn long. Soon, little Swishy Sasha would be the one Mama was paying respect to. He'd be a success, one way or another.
The End
Liked it? Tell me!
yankeestarbuck@yahoo.comSong Lyrics:
Where Or When
From "Babes In Arms"
(Richard Rodgers/Lorenz Hart)
when you're awake
the things you think
come from the dreams you dream
thought has wings,
and lots of things
are seldom what they see
sometimes you think you've lived before
all that you live today
things you do come back to you
as though they knew the way
oh, the tricks your mind can playit seems we stood and talked like this before
we looked at each other in the same way then
but I can't remember where or when
the clothes you're wearing and the clothes you wore
the smile you are smiling you were smiling then
but I can't remember where or when
some things that happen for the first time
seem to be happening again
and so it seems that we have met before
and laughed before
and loved before
but who knows where or whenit seems we stood and talked like this before
we looked at each other in the same way then
but I can't remember where or when
the clothes you're wearing and the clothes you wore
the smile you are smiling you were smiling then
but I can't remember where or when
some things that happen for the first time
seem to be happening again
and so it seems that we have met before
and laughed before
and loved before
but who knows where or when