LAUNDRY SNIPPET #1

By Sergeeva [April 2001, 4k]

My first real Skinner/Krycek, inspired by this adorable pic, courtesy of the Theban Band (ladies, your work is inspirational!)

RATING: NC-17

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Xanthe sent the pic to me (bless you, petal!) and how could I resist exporing what went before this sweet domestic scene? Be warned though - this is just a tiny snippet, so there's no huge backstory or detailed explanation of how enemies became lovers. Just a little playful fantasy. (See also Laundry Snippet #2)

[N.B. Any resemblance to people you think you know is pure coincidence - Walter and Alex would never behave like this, now would they???]

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Wish they were, but due acknowledgement to CC, 1013 and Fox, and appreciative thanks to MP and NL for just being lovely!

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Walter was feeling decidedly mellow. Life was pretty good.

For once he'd brought no paperwork home for the weekend - instead he spent the morning doing chores until the sunshine outside lured him to the park. With uncharacteristic spontaneity he left the laundry, grabbed his rollerblades and spent a pleasurable hour loosening muscles left cramped by a week of long days at his desk.

He knew he must be really relaxed because he let his habitual vigilance slip as he powered along the tree-lined pathways. His assailant simply stepped out from behind a tree and grabbed him, tumbling them both down a grassy bank. His embarrassment at being so easily surprised must have slowed his reactions or he would have had the cuffs on Krycek before you could say "nanocytes". Except his handcuffs were at home along with his common sense, and Krycek gave him an even greater surprise by rolling him onto his back and kissing him breathless.

Then his tormentor calmly sat up, grinned the most wicked grin ever and produced from his pocket the slim black device that had held Walter's life in thrall these long months. After waving it one last time in Walter's stunned face, Krycek lobbed the infernal thing into the nearby duck-pond.

"There you go - free at last. Don't say I never do anything for you, Skinner." And it was the strangest thing - his tormentor actually looked happy. Walter was instantly suspicious. Re-asserting his position, he straddled the other man, grabbed a handful of sleek black hair and pinned him down while he demanded an explanation.

Suffice it to say, Krycek's explanation was mind-boggling. It took an hour of wrestling each other until their sweaty bodies threatened to simply slide into the pond after the palm-pilot, while Krycek spun a tale of intolerable coercion, impossible circumstances, long-suppressed lust and the infuriating interventions of one Fox Mulder and Krycek's cock nudged ever more insistently at Skinner's stomach, and Krycek's hot breath bathed Skinner's face and Krycek's mouth made commando raids on Skinner's earlobes. They eventually agreed to take it indoors.

Back in Walter's condo, Krycek took the upper hand for the last time by marching upstairs, stripping off and flinging himself naked and spread-eagled onto Walter's freshly made bed. At last Walter had the chance to show him who was boss. Four times actually.

Now here they sat in the laundry room, finishing off the last of the weekend chores. Feeling more than a trifle smug, Walter looked down at his denim-clad groin, cupping himself with some pride. John Henry had performed with Marine resilience and stamina, eliciting the most impressive moans and sighs from Alex...

Alex... what a lot could change in one afternoon. The Ratbastard was transformed into Alex, his adoring sex-toy. Walter looked fondly at the sleepy-head leaning against his shoulder. He'd quite worn the boy out, apparently. Images swam in his head; of Alex's long legs wrapped around Walter's tanned thighs, of Alex's dark head licking its way down Walter's body, of Alex's viridian eyes wide with delight as Walter thrust and thrust...

Grinning lazily, Walter stroked the bulge in his jeans. "Ooh-rah," he murmured to himself, "this Marine is good to go again." Well, the weekend was only half over: plenty more playtime left - so long as they didn't run out of clean sheets.

THE END