Home Alone 2 *************** NIGHT TWO THURSDAY Coming home, he resisted the urge to grab the remote right away. Instead, he forced himself to shower and change first. Although, he mused, grinning, if tonight's "bedtime story" was going to be only half as hot as last night's, he would need another shower afterwards. But he hated how his clothes reeked of cigarette and cigar smoke after those fucking boring meetings and a hot shower always helped him to relax, to leave the Bureau day behind him. The Chinese food he had brought with him smelled enticing and he flipped through a few channels while he ate, prolonging the anticipation. He hadn't gotten to even touch his spaghetti last night, and he figured he would be needing some strength in a little while. He hoped. He enjoyed the sweet torture until all of the food was finished, then got himself another beer, leaned back on the couch, dimmed the light, and started the tape. "Tuesday", in blue again. Then - Skinner gasped. Sleeping room. Their more than king size bed, from the left side. On the bed - Mulder, on his back. Spread-eagled. Tied up. Blindfolded. Panting. With a hard-on that looked like it was close to exploding. Skinner blinked. What the hell did Krycek have in mind? He wouldn't... no. Or would he...? They had, on long weekends, experimented with light bondage, and found out that all three of them liked being tied up. A bit of rough handling, butt-smacking and dirty talk had proved to be a major turn-on, especially for Mulder. But they hadn't gone beyond that - yet. Seemed like his guys wanted to try some of that stuff now. Skinner swallowed. He wasn't sure which feeling was more dominant at the moment - being horny as hell or feeling shut out from the experiment. But again his lovers managed to surprise him. What Krycek held into the camera with a broad, sexy grin, was no paddle, whip or belt. It was a little bowl, with lightly steaming contents. Krycek winked mischievously at his unseen lover on the couch, then climbed onto the bed, to his very aroused other lover. He didn't forget to wiggle his ass, tightly clad in some expensive silver-grey briefs, in Skinner's direction. Turned back to the lens, put the bowl next to Mulder's hip, sat back on his heels, and held a paintbrush up. Skinner grinned. This promised to get interesting. He pushed a few cushions under his head, stretched and wiggled until he lay comfortably, arms folded behind his neck. He heroically ignored the throbbing bulge in his sweats. This time he wanted to go slowly. Enjoy first, get off later. "So, Walter, did you enjoy last night's bedtime treat?" Alex asked mischievously from the bed. "Aleeeex...." That was Mulder, breathless and wriggling impatiently on the bed. "Hush," Krycek said fondly and swatted the hip next to him. A husky moan was the answer. Krycek grinned. "Well, Big, you always say you find Fox 'edible'. I'm totally with you here," and he bent down and bit gently into Mulder's slender, well-muscled thigh. Mulder arched up with a groan, and Krycek soothed the bite with tender licks. Skinner hissed and found himself squirming. Suddenly, it was not so easy anymore to keep his arms behind his head, but he held on. Also, he was a bit embarrassed. //I need to watch what I'm saying... *Edible?* Did I really say that loud? Jeez.// "I've decided that Fox is gonna be *my* bedtime treat tonight," Krycek continued, looking directly at Skinner and, licking his lips, he took the paintbrush and stroked tenderly over Mulder's neck. "Oh *yeah*," Mulder moaned and tilted his head to give his lover better access. "Oh yeah," Skinner whispered and shivered. His erection began to feel slightly uncomfortable now, but he still refused to reach down. Instead, he gyrated his hips a bit, making the cotton of his sweats glide and rub over his hard-on like the light touch of a palm, sending dark-sweet flames of arousal through his whole body. Oh yeah, he would make himself wait for it tonight. This was going to be good. Entranced, he watched Krycek attending to his lover's neck with feather-light strokes. Then, slowly, the brush wandered down over the pecs, through the light brown chest hair, to the left nipple. Mulder was practically purring; and seeing him squirming so deliciously in his bonds elicited an envious moan from Skinner. He let his hand wander down to his own left nipple. With light squeezes and tickles, he teased himself through the t-shirt, reveling in Mulder's little moans. "He's a beautiful little slut, isn't he, Walter?" Krycek asked in a gravelly voice. His green eyes seemed to have grown darker as he gave his lover back home a hot look from under half-closed lids. Skinner could clearly see the bulge and the damp spot in front of the tight grey briefs. "Yeah, you bet he is," he murmured. He sat up and got rid of his shirt, then lay back down. He began to skim his chest with both palms, rubbing lightly over his nipples, but still didn't go down to his straining, demanding cock. On the screen, Krycek obviously had lots of fun torturing his very vocal lover with the soft paintbrush. He stroked and petted, tickled Mulder's sides and grinned evilly when the bristles in his victim's armpits brought forth an interesting mix of breathless bursts of laughter and colourful curses. Skinner grinned, shaking his head. No doubt, Mulder was the talker in this relationship. Even in bed he rarely shut up. Which was nice, because he had a real talent for hot, erotic images which he whispered into his lovers' ears with that rough, husky voice that he got when he was aroused. Krycek just chuckled at the verbal assaults and reached for the bowl. "Starting now, Fox," he announced, and Mulder stopped squirming and relaxed. Skinner moistened his lips and stared as Krycek dipped the brush into the bowl. It came up dripping with a thick, dark liquid... Skinner squinted, then laughed, shaking his head again. "Chocolate," he said, incredulously. But the smile changed into a wide-mouthed "Ooooh", when Krycek, his tongue sticking out between his lips in concentration, brought the chocolate-covered brush over Mulder's right nipple and applied it in one smooth stroke down from pec to pelvic bone. Mulder hissed, and Skinner sighed. Krycek smiled contentedly. "This is gonna be such a nice painting," he said to no one in particular. He dipped the brush into the bowl again and began where he had ended the first line. The brush went diagonally up this time, and ended right over Mulder's bellybutton. Head tilted slightly, Krycek surveyed his work, then dunked the brush in again and let a fat dollop of chocolate plop into Mulder's navel. Mulder snorted, his abdomen quivered. "Stay still," Krycek scolded good-naturedly, "you're destroying a piece of art," and he slapped his lover's hip again. He smiled into the camera. "Enjoying yourself, Walter?", he asked. Oh, Skinner was. Boy, was he ever. He was laying on his side, propped up on one elbow, and slowly rubbing his free hand over his hard cock which was still covered in the navy blue sweats. "You two just wait until Saturday," he said to the screen. He didn't manage the threatening undertone he had intended. He sounded breathless to himself, breathless and needy. The tingle was back, that tingle which had made him crazy all day at the office. His whole body felt as if it were lying in an electrically charged field. "Good," Krycek grinned, as if he had heard Skinner. And went back to work on his own Mulder canvas. Unconsciously sticking the tip of his tongue out again, he placed the dripping brush over Mulder's navel and stroked it diagonally down to the left pelvic bone. Dipped the brush into the bowl and drew a neat line up to Mulder's left nipple. Made sure to stroke the brush over the nub several times. Mulder moaned loudly. "God, Alex, that feels hot." "It's not hot anymore, only warm, you wuss." "I didn't mean - oh shit!" Krycek had dived down and was now sucking the chocolate out of his lover's navel. He made a production out of sucking and slurping and licking it clean, ignoring Mulder's needy whimpers. Skinner watched, breathing heavily, as Mulder's stiff cock bounced and twitched, the slit at the purple head leaking little glistening pearls; as the beautiful bound man on the bed arched up as far as he could and desperately tried to bring his erection into contact with his torturer. Skinner licked his lips, wishing he could taste that clear liquid at Mulder's cockhead now. He hooked his thumb under the elastic of his sweats and pulled them down a bit. His heavy cock, full of blood and stone hard, bobbed free, and Skinner sighed with relief. He heard Krycek chuckle. "No humping, Fox. And look, now you've cracked this wonderful line. I'll have to repaint it. Here. God, I'm a Picasso. No, don't move, lover. So, Walter, what do you think of the work I made for you?" Krycek stretched himself out beside Mulder, so Skinner could have an unobstructed view. Skinner looked at "his work of art" and loved it. Mulder, still blindfolded, spread out on the midnight blue sheets, his skin glowing like marble against the dark background, and on his strong, lean runner's body a big, dark, chocolate "W". Skinner was touched. And he was hot. Damn, he would give anything to be able to lick that chocolate off Mulder. He moaned softly. Cautiously, he grabbed his cock and massaged the head lightly with his thumb, spreading the precome over the sensitive skin. With a lustful sigh, he arranged himself in a better position on the couch and waited for Krycek's next move. He didn't have to wait long. Flashing a shit-eating grin into the camera, the beautiful Russian straddled Mulder's thighs, bent forward, and rubbed his own hard-on slowly and voluptuously over the well-defined muscles. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully, wiggling his ass in Skinner's direction. Then he got quickly up, pulled his briefs off and sat down again. "Alex... take that blindfold off. I know you're naked, I wanna see you." Mulder's voice was rough with desire. The sound sent shivers down Skinner's spine, and he grabbed his cock hard, which made him groan loudly. Damn, he had planned to take it slow tonight, and already he was close again. "Uh-huh. Not yet, lover. When you're clean, maybe." And with that, Krycek bent down over Mulder's right nipple, where he had started to paint, and began to suck the chocolate off. Noisily. Messily. Lustfully. Mulder moaned, whimpered and cursed. Krycek let his tongue forcefully flick over the hard nub, then alternated with the left nipple. Skinner was also moaning now. He quickly sat up, shed his t-shirt and turned onto his stomach. When he squirmed, the soft surface of the buffalo hide couch rubbed deliciously against his nipples and sent sharp little sparks directly to his dick. God, this was so good. He just had to manage to hold on. The problem was that the couch felt damn good against his dick, too. It was almost like he could feel every little crease in the leather. He knew that he should pull his sweats up or put a towel under him - the leather would be stained from his precome - but he didn't care. It felt hot and sexy on his sensitized skin, and he would have plenty of time to clean up later. Later. Not now. Now there was some really hot action on the screen and his lovers were irresistibly wonderful. Breathing hard and rubbing his chest and groin in tiny motions over the leather, Skinner watched Krycek nibbling and sucking a wet path down and along the chocolate "W" on Mulder's upper body. When Krycek reached Mulder's pelvic bone, he began to softly stroke the insides of his victim's thighs, still licking every little trace of the chocolate off. Mulder was whimpering constantly now, and he was talking in one of his languages. They reminded Skinner of a book he had read, "The Lost Language Of Cranes". That was what they were, lost languages, because Mulder never spoke the same twice. When he was aroused and denied release, he reached a headspace where he talked the most fascinating but totally unintelligible stuff. It sounded beautiful and strange, sometimes like foreign music, sometimes like shamanic words of an old forgotten tribe in a jungle at the end of the world. Krycek looked up into Mulder's flushed face and smiled. It was a smile full of love and tenderness, and Skinner felt himself missing his guys so much it hurt. But he didn't have the time to get sentimental because Krycek's smile suddenly changed into a feral grin. Skinner could literally watch the wicked idea forming between those elfin ears. A second later, the paintbrush was back in Krycek's hand, and, dripping with thick chocolate, drawn over Mulder's leaking cock and down to his balls. Mulder threw his head back and howled, bucking up as far as his bonds allowed it. Skinner could see Krycek's hard cock jump at the hot sound and pressed his own hard-on into the couch with a harsh groan. "Now lookee what he have here: nut chocolate!", Krycek said triumphantly and gave Mulder's balls a long, hot, wet lick, humming contentedly while he sucked at the furry sac. Mulder uttered a hoarse cry, unable to articulate his needs. "What is it - oh, you want some choc, too, huh?" Krycek asked mockingly. "No problem, lover, just a second." And with that, he dunked the brush into the bowl. Then he positioned himself in front of the camera, sat back on his heels, opened his legs wide and slowly covered his hard, bobbing dick with a thick layer of liquid chocolate. Mesmerized and panting hard, Skinner watched, pressing his own cock down into the soft leather according to every stroke Krycek applied to himself. He moaned softly and tried hard not to increase his movements. He didn't want to come yet. He knew that Krycek would fuck Mulder into oblivion after this hot and sweet session and he wanted to enjoy that fully. "Oh, shit," Krycek murmured suddenly and grabbed his dick hard just behind the head. Mulder snorted. "That's what you get from being such a fucking pain in the ass. Almost came, huh? What exactly are you doing there, anyway? And will you put this damn blindfold off. Now!" Krycek put the bowl with the paintbrush down on the floor and turned to his lover. "You're much too eloquent again for my taste, baby. Let's see what we can do about that." And with that, he straddled Mulder's chest and brushed his chocolate-covered cock against the bound man's lips. Mulder opened up eagerly and swallowed Krycek's cock with obvious relish. Krycek let out a long groan and threw his head back. He propped his hands on the headboard and moved his hips slowly, gliding in and out of Mulder's mouth. "Ooooh yeah, that's so good, baby, sooo goood....," he moaned. Skinner found himself mimicking the movements, staring longingly at Krycek's beautiful ass. He could see the dark brown cock gliding back and forth and he remembered vividly how it felt being in Mulder's hot, eager, talented mouth, being sucked and licked and - "Aaah - no, Fox, nononoDON'T DO *THAT* - DAMNOHFUCKOHFUCKOH**FUCK**!!!!!!" Skinner blinked as Krycek suddenly jerked and spasmed. He watched him pistoning hard and ruthlessly into Mulder's face, cursing and screaming. He almost came along with Krycek, but he had to laugh so hard that he managed to hold it. Mulder had tricked his wicked lover. The things the man could do with his mouth should be considered lethal. Krycek slumped beside Mulder, panting hard. "Damn. Fuck you, Fox." Mulder laughed delightedly, licking a mix of Krycek's come and lots of chocolate from his lips. "Yeah, I guess I've wasted that chance. Come on, Alex, take the blindfold off." Krycek sighed resignedly and reached over. Mulder blinked into the sudden light, then grinned at his still heavily breathing lover and waggled his eyebrows in the direction of Krycek's cock. "You still have chocolate down there. Wanna have that removed?" "The script said 'Krycek fucks Mulder into next week'. You weren't supposed to do *that*," Krycek said sulkily. "You cheated. I should leave you here all night, bound and with that hard-on and all." "Yeah, but you won't, because you *love* to suck me off," Mulder purred and wiggled his hips suggestively. "I hate to admit it, but you're right," Krycek purred back and dove down. In seconds, he had Mulder babbling unintelligibly once more. "Mmmm, you taste good," he murmured, licking his lips. He grabbed Mulder's cock, looked into the camera and asked: "Are you touching yourself, Walter? I bet you are. Now, come on, do as I do here. Take your dick into your hand. Fist it. Slowly. Like this, see?" Oh, Skinner saw, all right. He turned on his back, his hard, engorged cock in his right hand, and dreamily followed Krycek's instructions, letting himself be led by Mulder's constant moans and sobs. The chocolate had melted into Krycek's hand; Mulder's cock was a dark, sticky mess. A hot, sexy, beautiful mess, which Skinner longed to taste right now. "GodAlexfasterfasterpleasefasterplease---ohyeahyeah----YEAHOHALEEEEEEX!" Mulder arched up into his bonds, up into Krycek's fist, and with a last long scream, he violently shot several ropey streams over his chest, decorating the half-eaten chocolate "W" with a creamy white. "Wow," Krycek said admiringly. That sight and the sounds were too much for Skinner. He closed his eyes, gave his cock two hard strokes and came with a roar, hard and almost painful. His whole upper body lifted up from the couch as his orgasm was wrung out of him, then he slumped back with a thud, gasping for air. When he looked back at the screen, Krycek had loosened Mulder's bonds and was tenderly rubbing his exhausted lover's wrists and ankles. Massaging Mulder's left foot, Krycek turned to the camera. "Had a good time, Walter? Did we wear you out? Well, see you tomorrow night." "Love you, Big," came the sated and sleepy comment from behind Krycek. The Russian chuckled. Skinner smiled. "Love you too, both," he murmured. The screen went blank and he hastened to stop the VCR before the next part could start. He didn't want to spoil his own fun - and even if he had wanted, he wouldn't have been able to right now. Groaning, he got up and went to the shower. The hot water relaxed his muscles and made him even sleepier. He chuckled. Chocolate. He still couldn't believe it. He briefly wondered how they had managed to wash the sheets without him noticing, but decided he wasn't really interested. Bed. Sleep. Just when he had dried himself off, the phone rang. "Hey, Big. When did you get home?" Mulder asked. "Oh, about five-thirty," Skinner said, unguarded in his sleepiness. "*Five-thirty*?" Skinner could *see* Mulder grinning, and he heard Krycek snicker in the background. "Wow. Seems you were eager to het home, Big, huh? Found something there you liked?" Skinner felt himself blushing. "How was your meeting with the director?", he asked. He tried to sound clipped and terse, but knew he couldn't fool his lovers. His voice sounded too much like Mulder's after sex. Rough and sated. Mulder chuckled. "You *have* found it, and you loved it, right? Come on, Big, let's know you appreciate all our hard work." "I do appreciate it," Skinner grumbled. "It... that was... yeah, I liked it. A lot," he finally ground out. "Thought so," Mulder said, tenderly and deeply satisfied. "So, what about your meeting?", Skinner insisted. "Well, there are good news for you, Big. If Alex gets the stuff with that Czech bank and those odd accounts in Algier sorted out tomorrow, it seems we're obscenely rich. This means you could quit the FBI if you wanted, Walter." Mulder's serious tone implied that he would like that a lot. "This just means *Alex* is obscenely rich," Skinner corrected soberly. He heard an indignant "Hey!" in the background, then Alex was on the phone. "Look, Walter," Krycek said, almost angrily, "we've talked this over already. Several times. Before we got together, I was wandering around, alone, minding my own business--" - this got him a snort from Skinner and a "woo-hoo!" from Mulder - "-- ok, ok, *almost* minding my own business," he continued, annoyed. "Then, you two literally kidnapped me, a fact I don't exactly mind, ok, and suddenly, I realize that somewhere along the way I've gotten married. Not that I mind that, either. It just means what's mine is yours. And this is not open for discussion, ok?" "Alex-" "No, Walter. Definitely no. I *know* you don't need my money. Fat salary, big pension, etcetera. Fox doesn't need it either, he's literally raking it in with his books. Needed or not, my money is yours and Fox's, too. And I'd love to have you home. Imagine that, Walter. You could spend every day of the rest of your life fucking Fox and me into oblivion. Isn't that worth a thought?" Krycek's voice had become low and velvety with his last words. Skinner thought about the video and shuddered with delight. Oh yeah, that was worth more than just one thought. "I'd be dead in about one week," he stated. "I don't think my heart would take that." "Translated from Walterspeak, you love the idea," Mulder said, matter-of-factly, in the background. Skinner just snorted again, then sighed. "Just come back soon," he said, suddenly not caring anymore whether he sounded corny or needy. Hell, he *did* need his guys. "Love you too, Walter," Krycek said softly. "Tons. Call you tomorrow night." "Night, Big. Love you. Sleep tight." Continued in "HOME ALONE: NIGHT THREE"