In the Silence Before
Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own Alex Krycek. The X-files and its characters are the property of Chris Carter and Twentieth Century Fox Film. Copyright infringement is not intended.
This is in answer to the boys and rain challenge from the Sk/K list. This story has no sex but is a slash story. It contains slashy situations of the m/m kind. If you find this offensive, please leave now. Consider yourself warned.
In the Silence Before
The car was clammy, cold but humid, and the hard after-smell of burned tobacco hovered in the stagnant air. Alex frowned and gritted his jaw at the chill that seeped through his clean cotton undershirt and soft faded jeans. He glanced at the half-gone cigarettes in the car's small ash tray left open. A gentle wet plopping batted against the metallic roof, making a pleasant humming noise that, despite the dismal mood he was in, lent a somewhat drowsy comfort to Alex.
The car's engine had been cool for more than a few hours now, but Alex didn't leave. He had arrived at the meeting place, spoken with his black-lunged employer and watched as smoky had finished his speech with the push of his third consecutive cigarette into the ash tray.
And now he waited.
The water streamed down the front windshield, and Alex stared at it with hypnotized interest. Patterns of indecipherable curves and textures rolled transparently across the glass.
There was no reason to stay, but neither was there an immediate reason to leave. He assumed that he would soon either be forced to go by his growling stomach, already angry that he hadn't fed it yet that day, or that someone would notice that he had been illegally parked for the last three hours and report him. Alex slackly expected a startling tap on the window by a police officer any moment, waking him from his trance.
But the tap didn't come, and the minutes continued to pass. Alex knew that his skin, hair and clothing were gathering the stale smell of cigarettes as he sat in the car -- that only a thorough washing would get rid of the potent odor. Yet this was something that didn't concern him at the moment.
His job, what the smoker had most recently met with him to discuss, was ruined. His employer did not know this. Oh, Alex knew he could make it work, knew that he could ignore the conflicting voices in his head and carry out the mission laid before him, but he realized he didn't want to carry out the mission. He also realized that if he didn't follow through with orders, he would probably be punished, and corporeal punishment was not under-appreciated in his line of work.
Alex rubbed his sticky fingers across the plastic top of the key in the ignition. He let his hand fall away and dragged his attention to the side window, then stared out of it blandly.
There were still a few lights on in the dark building across the street, so it couldn't have been too late. Letting his head drop, his gaze wandered to the seat beside him, barely still dark with wet drops from when the door had been momentarily opened to let its passenger in, then out.
Alex sucked his lower lip into his mouth and ran his tongue across the delicate skin for a moment before fingering the key again and eventually starting the engine. He put the head lights on and checked his blind spot before putting the car in drive and pulling out into the empty street.
His destination was close, closer than Alex would have liked, and when he reached the building, rather than going into the underground car park, Alex drove past. He drove around the block once. Then he drove around the block again. On his third drive around the block, Alex realized that eventually he would have to stop. He drove around the block a forth time.
When Alex finally did park, it was in the too small parking lot of a high-rise bank. The walk to the building was not short, nor did he try to prevent his getting drenched by quickening his pace. Rather, he walked slower than normal, letting his depressed mood echo in his gait.
By the time he was standing in front of the apartment door, sliding the key in the lock and turning the door knob, he appeared to have taken a shower in his clothing. Head down, he entered the apartment, shutting the door behind him and locking it, then placing the key in his pocket again. He turned around to the warm presence behind him and looked up as strong arms came around his body for a tight hug.
"I missed you; where were you? You're wet," came the long string of mumbled words, and Alex bit his tongue at the burning in his eyes, trying to remember that this was just a job and didn't call for any emotional attachment. Ignoring his feelings to play the part, Alex smiled and pulled away when the hug became lax.
"Sorry," Alex stated, realizing that it wouldn't placate the other man. Alex's grin faded, and a small kiss was placed on his lips.
"You're cold," was all the other man said, concern evident in his voice.
"Warm me up?"
There was a brief smile before a large hand enclosed over Alex's and tugged gently, leading him to the stairs. Alex ignored the knot that was welling in his throat and the sick feeling washing over his stomach. This was just a job. This was just a job.
This was just a job.
He knew the room would be dark, and he was grateful. His tears would go unseen in the shadows.
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