Christmas Gambols

by Polly Bywater

Spoilers: None, really, but haven't we seen them all by now anyway? Archive: Oh, sure, just let me know
Warnings: Contains explicit descriptions of m/m sex not recommended for minors or fundamentalists. Disclaimer: Chris Carter and 1013 Productions own the characters I've borrowed for this story. I make no money from this. Additional warning: This is fiction. I'm ignoring the whole safe sex thing, I don't recommend that anybody do that in real life. Notes: I wanted to finish this before Christmas, but as it so often happens, my life got in my way. Then Maxine informed me that by the Greek Orthodox calendar, Christmas isn't celebrated until January 6th, so I'm thinking, it's not too late! This, then, is my humble 'happy holidays' to my Skinner/Krycek listies, with thanks for a great year of stories, help and conversations. And to my friends Maxine and Shaolin, who discovered Alex and Walter this year, belated 'happy birthday!'

'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale; A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.

-Sir Walter Scott-
(gotta love them Walters)

Surveillance.

Alex preferred that term, as opposed to 'spying'. Hell, anybody could spy. He was a professional. A dedicated professional, at that. Who else would work on Christmas Eve?

And 'surveillance' sounded much more businesslike.

So why did he feel unprofessional, and not in the least businesslike?

Perhaps it was the way the subject of his surveillance was conducting himself. //Yeah, blame the victim// the part of his brain that never shut up supplied sarcastically. //Victim, hell// Alex thought back, watching //no, surveilling// his subject with a mental sigh as he gingerly settled himself on the edge of the sleeping man's bed.

This had seemed like such a good idea earlier. Wake the man up abruptly with gun in hand. Catch him while at his most vulnerable, before that sharp brain had a chance to fully engage. Pass on the information he was supposed to pass on, and get the hell out while the man was still half-addled. Spare himself the alert glare of those cold eyes behind the wirerims... and yet.

And yet.

The man slept like an exhausted child, on his side, one hand curled up next to his face. In the thin moonlight that crept through the bedroom window, those strong features were sleep-softened and //sweet//.

Fucking hell, did he really just think Walter Skinner looked sweet?

//Well, he does. Look sweet. God damn it.//

Without even being conscious of his own actions, Alex silently engaged the safety on his gun and slipped it into his jacket pocket, moving his now-free hand towards the sleeping man's face. He leaned over Skinner cautiously and gently stroked his fingertips over a lightly stubbled jaw. //So warm.// Skinner let out a low hum and shifted onto his back, turning his face into Alex's palm.

//Shit!//

Sanity trickled in, and Alex drew his hand away, careful not to move too quickly. Before he could stand, Skinner's arms reached overhead in a luxurious long stretch, which puddled his sheet around his waist. Alex found himself transfixed by that broad bare expanse of chest. Firm pecs, prettily shaped nipples, dark dusting of hair, all tempting his fingers to play and his mouth to taste.

//Not so sweet now, eh, Alexei?//

//Fuck yeah, at a whole 'nother level.//

//You've lost your fucking marbles.//

Alex's gaze flew up to Skinner's face. The big man's eyes were still obligingly shut, his breathing deep and even. Incredibly enough, he wasn't awake.

Alex gave another mental sigh - this time of relief. He was just about to slide off the bed and get back to //business, remember, you're a professional// when one strong arm looped around his neck, pulling him down.

//Oh, my God.//

Off-balance in more ways than one, Alex couldn't resist. He was gathered in close against warm, sleep-scented flesh that was spiced with a trace of something vaguely alcoholic. Drawn inexorably into a sprawl across Skinner's chest, Alex ended up lying with his head tucked under Skinner's chin, awkwardly twisted at the waist and feet still on the floor. Skinner made another little satisfied humming sound deep in his throat and squeezed, and Alex was lost.

//So fucking good to be held.//

//Is it going to be worth it in the next five seconds, when he wakes up and realizes what he's doing, then strangles your sorry ass?//

//Fuck, yeah// Alex thought again while a soft kiss was dropped on his head, his hair tenderly nuzzled, and his upper back lightly massaged. He wondered who Skinner was touching in his dreams, but decided it didn't matter. //Damned lucky, whoever they are.// Still, he would have figured Skinner for the type to wake instantly, ready to strike out at the slightest disturbance.

//He must be really tired. Or drunk.//

Alex couldn't say he cared either way, since none of this would be happening if Skinner were awake and alert.

He'd never been one to waste a golden opportunity.

With a feeling of fatalism, Alex gave into temptation and nuzzled back, pressing a kiss onto that wonderful chest and rubbing his face against that lovely warm skin.

The arms around him tightened, and Alex froze, reminding himself that he'd asked for this, while that voice at the back of his mind asked if it was still worth it, now that his death was imminent.

And yes, all things considered, Alex believed that it was.

It never occurred to him to try to pull away or draw his weapon, even though his hand was free. Well, semi-free. It had somehow come to rest on Skinner's left upper arm, palm busily measuring muscle.

A drowsy gravel voice rumbled into his ears, hot breath carrying a stronger aroma of liquor. Rum?

"Krycek, what the hell are you doing?"

Curiously enough, Skinner didn't even sound angry, just confused. Alex huffed out a soft chuckle. He could sympathize with confusion.

"Going insane, apparently."

"I am awake." It wasn't quite a statement.

"Yeah, 'fraid so. Sorry about that, Walt. I'd love to say you're just dreaming."

"I'd have to be dreaming, wouldn't I?"

//Odd question// Alex thought, then shrugged it off in favor of touching the tip of his tongue to the skin next to his mouth.

Skinner shivered slightly. Just that fast, Alex became aroused.

//Oh, God.//

A storm-surge of pure lust swamped all judgement, swelling his cock past the point of comfort. Alex allowed himself another taste, this time a full-out lazy lick to the notched area between Skinner's collarbones, which provoked another one of those low humming sounds from the back of Skinner's throat.

Alex dimly realized he was humming himself. Well, moaning might be a more accurate description.

Skinner grabbed a fistful of Alex's hair and pulled his head back. Alex could see those wide dark eyes, blinking at him blearily.

"Krycek, am I drunk?"

"That must be it, Walt. You're drunk, and dreaming," Alex replied agreeably, moving his hand to feather across Skinner's jaw, then curling his fingers around the back of Skinner's head. He hesitated for a moment, quite certain now that either he'd lost his marbles, or Skinner had, then sucked in a startled gasp when Skinner put their mouths together.

//Oh, merry Christmas Alexei!//

Skinner's mouth was hot, and wet, and flavored with rum and spices.

//Eggnog? Sweet//

Definitely, a finer flavor than Alex could have imagined, and he had. Imagined. He savored the kiss, enjoyed the carnal thrust and parry of tongues, and felt something melt inside that hadn't been warm in a very long time.

Shock waves thrummed along his spine and tightened his balls, fueled by that delightful feeling of being thoroughly ravished. Skinner tore their mouths apart and Alex whimpered involuntarily, a sound that changed into a startled yelp when Skinner rolled them over, yanking Alex completely onto the bed and beneath his own heavier boxer-clad frame.

//Christ! I forgot how fucking big he is!//

Before he had time to get scared, Skinner settled between his legs and started kissing him again; deep, searching kisses that stole all the air out of Alex's lungs, as well as any will to resist. By the time Skinner lifted his head, Alex was panting and half-wild, a situation not helped in the least when Skinner's hand went to his collar.

"You don't wear clothes in my dreams, Krycek," Skinner growled at him, and Alex felt his eyes go wide as the words shredded whatever remnants of good judgement he had left.

//He dreams about me? Naked?//

//Well, why the hell not? You dream about him naked, Alexei.//

//Maybe. Maybe it's. Maybe it's time to see him that way.//

"Then take them off me, Walter," Alex heard himself saying, his own voice a rough velvet rasp. He watched it shudder through Skinner like he'd shot the man, became aware of the whole hard extent of their lust, separated only by his jeans and Skinner's boxers.

//He's drunk!// his brain screamed while Skinner //Walter// worked his jacket off and pitched it onto the floor, where it landed with a noticeable thunk. //He's not going to thank you for this, Alexei!// while Walter got rid of his overshirt, flinging it somewhere Alex didn't care enough to notice. //What are you going to do if he sobers up halfway through this?// as his tee shirt was eased over his head and vanished into a shadow. //What are you going to do if he doesn't stop?// and those big hands were on his skin, touching, rubbing, callused fingers teasing his nipples erect and making him groan.

//What if he does stop?//

One hand traced a path of fire over his left shoulder and down his arm, pausing at the join of flesh to plastic. The hesitation hit Alex like a bucket of ice.

"Off or on?"

No telling what his face looked like. Skinner gave him a narrow-eyed glare and ground their cocks together, as if to remind him what was important here.

"Suit yourself, Alex. I don't give a damn either way."

And that was plainly true, as evidenced by Skinner's use of his first name, so Alex decided he didn't give a damn either.

"Raise up a minute," he said, and Skinner pushed up off him, giving him room to release the prosthetic. "Don't throw it in the floor, Walt," he directed, and wondered if Skinner could possibly understand what an act of faith it was for him to put the expensive device in potentially hostile hands. More so than offering his ass, even.

Skinner almost smiled at him, taking the arm and setting it gently on the floor, a series of moves that was accompanied by a great deal of deliberate squirming against his dick. Alex groaned again, he couldn't help it, especially when Skinner knelt up over his thighs and set those big hands on the fly of his jeans.

He was helpless to move as his pants were opened then eased down his thighs with his briefs, his cock bounding free like an escaping convict.

"Nice," Skinner said, his casual tone belied by the way his own cock strained heavily against the soft plaid flannel of his boxers. Alex let out a happy sigh, already imagining how good it was going to feel plowing into him.

//Not the first time I've imagined that.//

He grasped the headboard and treated Skinner to a slow, undulating stretch, gratified when Skinner gave a subvocal growl and those dark eyes caught fire.

"Fucking tease."

"No tease."

"You want me to fuck you, boy?" Skinner's voice was gruff and his tone severe, but his hot gaze swept over Alex like a lover's touch. Alex felt his skin prickle with arousal, his nipples peaking and his cock twitching wildly.

"'S'all I want for Christmas, Santa," he whispered sibilantly, licking his lips when Skinner smirked at his choice of words.

"Better get those jeans off, then," Skinner ordered, getting up to shuck off his boxers, perfectly steady on his feet. Alex was busily inspecting that ass as well as the hard, ready length of Skinner's erection, and didn't notice that, or what Skinner had said. Not until Skinner approached him to cup his chin in one large hand.

"Boys who disobey get lumps of coal and bags of switches for Christmas, Krycek."

"Let me show you what a good boy I can be," Alex said huskily, and grabbing a hold of Skinner's perfect ass, pulled that tempting cock within reach of his mouth.

//Ah, yes.//

Alex's unspoken enjoyment was echoed over his head, Skinner's voice hoarse and low as Alex ran his tongue over the moisture at the head of Skinner's cock, then closed his lips around it to suck.

//Christ, he tastes good.//

Vaguely aware of Skinner bracing himself on the headboard, Alex's hand moved Skinner into a rhythm. He needed to feel Skinner use his mouth, and hummed his encouragement around that satin-slick flesh, rubbing his tongue on the sensitive underside with every short stroke.

The angle wasn't good for what he wanted, though. Alex pulled his mouth off Skinner's cock with an audible slurp and looked up into that so-often stern face, now gone slack with stunned pleasure.

"Walt, kneel over me and fuck my mouth."

"Shit, Alex!" Skinner sounded shocked, but he did what Alex asked, straddling Alex's upper chest and gripping the back of Alex's head in one hand. "This what you want, boy?"

"Yeah, Walt. Do it." And Skinner did, holding Alex's head, fingers snarled tightly in Alex's hair as that thick cock was shoved down Alex's throat.

//Oh, god, oh, fuck, yes. Yes. Just like that.//

Alex dimly wished he hadn't disabled all the surveillance equipment in Skinner's apartment. He could imagine how hot this looked, and it would have been nice to have a permanent record, just for his personal use. The big man was clutching his head with one hand and supporting himself against the wall with the other, legs spread over his torso, cock thrusting in and out of his mouth. The muscles in that gorgeous ass were flexing while Alex writhed like the slut he knew he was, his jeans halfway down his thighs.

He moaned and swallowed around Skinner's cock, on fire with the need to feel the man give it all up. Give it up to him. He might be the one on the bottom, but Walter Skinner was the one on his knees...

The flesh filling his throat swelled even larger, harder, stilling for a second then withdrawn, only to be reintroduced in a desperate lunge. Alex felt his eyes roll back in his head as Skinner roared out his ecstatic release, the throb of Skinner's orgasm almost enough to bring on Alex's own.

Almost.

Skinner was slow to pull out, leaving Alex lightheaded from lack of air by the time he was allowed to breathe. Not so lightheaded that he failed to give Skinner's cockhead a final slurp, drawing out a last tiny burst of seed so he could savor the taste. Skinner backed down his body slowly, pausing at Alex's waist. Alex opened his eyes, wondered exactly when he'd closed them, and forced himself to focus on Skinner's face.

"Fuck, Alex, do you know what you look like?"

A blunt finger reached out and caressed his mouth, which was wet, swollen, and tingling. Alex hummed, his tongue licking over that finger, while his hips flexed autonomously, cock seeking.

Skinner bent low, replacing his finger with his mouth, and kissed the breath back out of Alex, his tongue stroking and curling and sucking as if to reclaim what he'd so recently given. Alex was whimpering by the time Skinner separated their lips, and Skinner smiled at him, satisfied and sure.

"I've changed my mind," he announced, reaching behind him to ruffle his fingers through Alex's pubic hair, bumping his knuckles against Alex's cock and making Alex hiss frustratedly.

"'Bout- 'bout what, exactly?" Alex managed.

"I'm not going to fuck you. You're going to fuck me."

//I did not just hear that, did I? I didn't just hear Walter Skinner offer me his ass?//

"But- you don't- I thought- You-"

"Alex, Alex, Alex," that dark voice crooned as Skinner moved off, rummaged around in his bedside table drawer, and dropped something on the bed beside Alex's right hip. "When are you going to learn not to make assumptions about me?" A big hand wrapped around Alex's chin and closed his gaping mouth, then patted his cheek, roughly enough to be just this side of painful. Alex's cock jumped at the sensation, and Skinner let out a low rumbling chuckle.

"I see one part of you doesn't have any problems with the idea."

"I never- never said I had a problem with it," Alex protested weakly while Skinner climbed back onto the bed, already half-hard again. Or maybe still. Alex wasn't entirely sure, having a sneaking feeling he was missing tiny chunks of time.

"Glad to hear it. Now get me ready," Skinner ordered, squeezing a large dollop of lube onto Alex's fingers and turning so his ass was within Alex's reach. Alex was slow to react, stunned by the sheer wonder of the idea, as well as the masculine beauty in the powerful curves of muscle and flesh.

"Get a move on, Agent!"

"Wh- what?" Alex stuttered, but obeyed Skinner's tone automatically, his fingers smoothing the lube around that small sweet pucker, then inside. The satiny walls of Skinner's passage loosened gradually, so tight around his fingers that Alex couldn't imagine how it was going to feel to have his cock buried there.

"Mm, yeah, more... and you're still somebody's agent, aren't you, Alex? The Consortium's, the- oh, god, that's- right there- the Resistance?"

//How does he know- oh, who the fuck cares!// Alex thought recklessly as Skinner started to smooth lube over Alex's cock. Far too close to losing it, he groaned as Skinner grasped his balls and pulled them back down.

"Fuck, Walt!"

"Damn right, Krycek! Fuck!"

"Pushy bottom," Alex muttered and worked a bit more hastily, scissoring his fingers as the muscle finally relaxed.

"I never said anything about bottoming," Skinner pointed out, panting, pulling away from Alex's fingers and straddling him in one quick move. Before Alex could catch his next breath, Skinner was bracing his cock and taking him inside.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. You're so- that's-"

"Don't you dare come yet, Alex!"

"Then fucking hold still for a minute, Walt!" Alex ground out as the snuggest, silkiest heat he'd ever experienced relentlessly gripped the end of his cock. //Nothing else will ever feel this good, you stupid son of a bitch. He's ruining you-// and Alex cut off that warning voice, frantically concentrating on his self-control. It helped to envision the looks on Scully's and Mulder's faces if they were to see him with Walter Skinner now...

At length, Alex let out a gusty sigh that turned into a helpless squeak as Skinner slowly lowered himself, taking Alex in completely.

"Ah, Jesus, Alex. So good. Feels so good."

And it did, like nothing Alex could have imagined in his wildest dreams, and he was speechless as those strong inner muscles squeezed his throbbing cock. A warm hand brushed his face, one thumb smoothing over his bottom lip, bringing to Alex's attention that he was about to chew right through it.

"Don't do that."

He opened his eyes to see Skinner smiling at him, which by itself was every bit as amazing as everything else that had happened- was happening tonight. The situation became even more incredible when Skinner leaned over and replaced his thumb with his tongue, lapping at Alex's abused lower lip.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Skinner whispered against his mouth, and Alex felt himself come undone, his hips rolling upward involuntarily even while his arm came around to hold that hot, hard body tight. In turn, Skinner slid his arms around Alex and made one of those low back-of-the-throat sounds, sending shock waves through Alex's spine and straight to his balls.

"So much better," Alex whispered back, and they stared at each other, neither quite able to understand how a simple fuck, intended to be hot and nasty and crude, had turned into something entirely different. Something tender, gentle, and considerate; something that both would have sworn could never happen.

Not between them, yet here they were.

//Oh, Alexei, what have you done.//

"Walter?"

"I don't know, Alex," and that mouth closed over his, convincing Alex that he didn't care what Walter did or didn't know, or about anything else. The only thing he cared about was the man he was holding. The man who was rocking their bodies together, the man who was currently kissing him stupid, the man whose own rigid length was trapped and drooling between their bodies, driving Alex insane.

He could feel his orgasm drawing up to strike like lightning, and tore their mouths apart, keening as Walter shifted position and started using those strong thighs to drive them harder together, extending each desperate stroke.

"Please, Walter, please god, please!"

"Touch me, Alex, yes! Like that, like that!"

He wrapped his still-slick hand around that strong erection, using thumb and fingertips to press along the underside, wanting with everything in him to make this perfect for Walter, perfect for them both- feeling Walter thrust in his hand. Feeling it hit for his lover from the inside, feeling that gathering vibration, that timeless instant before Walter's balls released.

"Now, Alex!"

The storm broke in a blinding rush as Walter threw back his head and shouted, cock shooting a burst of cream, ass clamping down and milking out a climax that had Alex screaming with disbelieving joy. His vision whited out in a haze of sensation, the spasms of his orgasm ripping through him so intensely Alex half-feared for his life. He vaguely heard the noise he was making, heard Walter hoarsely urging him on, then the unbearable pleasure wound down, aftershocks leaving him boneless and twitching.

"Oh god, oh god," somebody was whispering over and over; it took Alex some minutes to realize it was his voice and stop. Walter was holding him close, a comforting weight against his skin, apparently the only thing keeping him from floating off the mattress.

Feeling entirely blown away, Alex worked his hand free to stroke Walter's back, pressing soft little kisses into the side of that warm, sweet neck. Walter lifted his head, which startled Alex a bit, but then he brushed the sweat-damp hair off Alex's forehead and kissed the tip of Alex's nose.

"What just happened here?" Walter asked brusquely, and Alex found himself giggling helplessly, wondering whatever happened to his usual guarded paranoia.

"Christmas miracle, maybe?" He eventually offered, rewarded when Walter replied with a rumbling chuckle.

"Maybe. Damn fine present, anyway."

They both shared a sigh as Alex slipped free of Walter's body, then Walter moved to take Alex's face in his hands, locking their gazes.

"So, Alex," Walter said, and treated him to a glorious, heart-stopping smile. "What are you doing for New Year's Eve?"

"Making more miracles?"

"Good answer, Agent Krycek."

And Walter joined their mouths again.

//Best damned present I ever got// both Alex and Walter thought.

The End
Very Merry Season All
31 December 2002


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