"The tension has been building
since you took off your clothes,
And I'm curious to see
How it's gonna unfold,
Nobody knows...
You've been running through my mind,
Seeping through my pores,
I've been thinking about you,
I can't take anymore,
I've got to have you."
--From Rainbow Sugar's 'The Sex Song'
**okay, so I didn't use a Sarah Mc quote! Happy?**

Krycek had never heard a man cry out with such orgasmic abandon in his life. As Keyser came for the first time at the mercy of his skillful mouth, Alex was suddenly glad that he hadn't gone through with his initial plan of bringing his captor to the same state of excitement, then giving him a taste of his own medicine. But how could he help it? He had never gotten such a reaction before–not from a woman, not from a man. And from what he had always been told, Alex was a lover of very high skill, indeed. If Krycek didn't know better, he would have almost been inclined to assume that Keyser had never been sucked off before. It would have been a shame, if this were true. The man had a penis which begged for such special attention. Not too long, nicely thick without being overwhelming, and just as delectable as Krycek could have hoped. But certainly a man as powerful as Keyser Soze had been treated to the honor of a blow job in the course of his amazing life. Before he could let himself reconsider whether he *did* know better, Krycek sat up and drew his wrist across his mouth, wiping away the last traces of Keyser's cum as he caught his breath.

The towering portrait of criminal malevolence had been reduced to the gasping man who writhed beneath Alex Krycek, unable to speak a word for fear that it would not be as sufficient as his overwhelming smile and the dancing brightness in his lovely eyes. Krycek did not want him to speak–he was through with talking for the night. Making good on this resolution, Alex bent down, closing his salty lips over Keyser's open mouth.

Tasting himself on the young man's lips, Keyser was at once both shocked and amazed at Krycek's audacity. Totally uninhibited,Keyser thought to himself between moments of adulated sensation as Krycek rubbed his rock-hard cock against his midsection, it's what I asked for, indeed, but he has no idea what he's doing to me.

"Alex," Keyser suddenly whispered.

"Mm...yes?" Krycek mumbled as he nuzzled Keyser's neck.

"Alex, I–"

In a moment as startling and unexpected as either man had ever known, a heavy, firm knock suddenly came at the bedroom door. Alex coughed in shock, and turned his gaze to the source of the interruption as he heard the voice from inside the neighboring room. It was one of Keyser Soze's endlessly protective half-wit bodyguards, who, coincidentally, had every right to be knocking at that door. They had never been informed of any wild sexual laison, after all, and all they could do was speculate that perhaps the boss was in some trouble with the ruthless young intruder.

"Mr. Soze, sir, there's–"

Wondering what course of action was to be taken, Krycek looked back to Keyser, and lost his breath and his bearings momentarily as he found the other man holding a .22 very steadily at the door. Registering the expression on Keyser's face and sizing up his intentions all too clearly, Alex had just enough time to cover his ears before a single bullet ripped from the bed to the doorframe, burying itself in the wood as the knocker gave a nondescript cry of terror.

"Go *away*, please," Keyser ordered, "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

After a few seconds, there was still no response. Silently they agreed that the unwelcome messenger had exited the premises, most likely with a very wet pair of pants. But Krycek was still lost in a state of suspended horror, which Keyser recognized with a sudden remorse as he looked over.

"Oh, hey, I really have to apologize for that. These fucking bastards, they don't know when to leave a guy alone, and–"

Krycek stuttered to explain his primary complaint. "Why is it always *me*? I swear, Keyser, if we can't finish this thing, *without* interruption, I'm going to call off the deal and you can go ahead and shoot me in the head!" With this Krycek moved aside, and, shaking his head, transferred to the side of the bed as if ready and willing to leave, "now that I know you're fully capable!!"

"Alex....Alex, it's not exactly your place to be–" Krycek stood and began to walk toward the bathroom, retrieving the pants he had thrown aside before entering the shower. He held them up as if threatening Keyser before dressing.

"It's not my place to be what, Keyser? To be demanding?" he scoffed as he pulled the jeans, caked with dirt and blood, over his hips, "I don't think you're reading me. I don't mind making love to you. In fact, I *relish* it. But please understand me when I say I want *you* to fuck *me*. No interruptions! No cruel tricks! No shooting fucking guns at the fucking door!" He threw his hands over his head and started to walk into the office.

He heard Keyser call out his name, desperate and defeated, a sort of whining resignation, as he slammed the door shut and entered the cavernous center of operations. The room was larger than he remembered, and, without the distractions of impending doom or impending seduction, he was able to take in the sights with a little more appreciation.

Apart from those grandiose mirrors, nothing by way of art or decoration hung on the walls. The scalloped lamps made of frosted glass which illuminated each corner were strictly utilitarian despite their beauty, and a simple yet elegant system of tract lighting ran the ceiling, giving the room a low flourescent glow. Soft green carpeting soothed Alex's bare feet as he stepped deftly toward the large, imposing desk. He fully intended to take a seat in the same chair as before and wait for Keyser to make his grand entrance, followed by his grand apology, followed perhaps by a good solid fuck at last.

But before he could even reach the desk, the door behind him flew open and Keyser rushed in, zipping his trousers in haste as he babbled on pointlessly. "Alex, please, you don't understand, it's not that I don't want to do this, it's just that–" he suddenly stopped and just looked at Alex, "Christ, why am I trying to defend myself here? You see right through me."

Krycek's eyes narrowed slightly, but the magnificent green orbs still penetrated Keyser's soul. "Actually, no. You're completely veiled and that's why I can't really understand you," Krycek shrugged with a heavy sigh and his rough, sensual voice played Keyser's nerves like a violin, "maybe I can make you feel good and maybe I have incredible nerve, but–I don't *know* you, Keyser, do you know what I'm getting at?"

He had never assumed it would be a problem, but now that Krycek realized he was completely unaware of this man's true self, it was impossible to be open with him. And that made it increasingly more difficult to be excited by the prospect. His ultimatum had been borne of desperation–he wanted tog et the whole thing over with before his brain screamed in his ear just how wrong the entire situation was. He never wanted to feel like a whore, and at least until this period of silent reflection, he hadn't. Soze had treated him like a lover, and he had felt genuinely special. But he had only been mesmerized by a spell, and now he was paying with his dignity.

As Krycek leaned against the desk, crossing his smooth, muscled arms over his bare chest, Keyser fell into a kneel, pressing his back against the bathroom door. He bit his lip a moment before responding, glancing off to the side as he tried to access any semblance of reasonable explanation. "Alex, you...you can't know me. No one does, not even I do. But all I know is that you've brought me closer than I've ever been. What you gave me tonight opened a window somewhere–" he lifted a finger and tapped the side of his head for effect, "but it was closed when the reality of the situation returned. I don't know what that guy wanted and I don't care–I knew the minute he knocked on the door that I was back in the real world–and I hated that feeling. Alex, I need you. I was trying to tell you before we were interrupted that–" he cut himself off, and his head dropped. Krycek sighed, but could not deny that Keyser's words had tugged at his heart just a little. Now he was anxious to hear what the man had to say.

"Keyser?" He prompted softly.

"Never mind," Keyser let out a frustrated breath, "never mind it at all." He stared at the floor for a moment in a daze, his eyes lucid with the new transformation that was coming over him. Within moments, Krycek saw the lover shrink back into the shell of the man, replaced all at once by the unbreakable countenance of Keyser Soze. Shit,thought Krycek, falling back into his former state of cynical acceptance, realizing that he was back to being the captive, the intruder, the unwelcome guest. Typical, though. Now he wants to deny that he said anything.

"Who the fuck are *you*, anyway, to walk out on me!?" Mr. Soze snapped, rising from his knees and taking a few steps toward Krycek.

No point in trying to save face, Alex thought in amusement, replying, "Don't you remember? I'm the man who just made you come, probably harder than you've ever come in your life."

He shouldn't have sounded so cocky, and he suddenly knew this as a firm, demanding fist struck him in the jaw, just hard enough to jarr him back to submission, but just forgiving enough not to dislocate the bone. It had been a perfectly calibrated punch, and Krycek knew it as he regained his bearings, and, holding his face with both hands, stared back at the earnest warden.

"Don't test me, boy, I still hold your life in my hands."

Krycek let his tongue explore the throbbing recess of his mouth where he had been struck, and tasted the warm, coppery blood that was starting to pool there. Furrowing his brow, he glanced at Soze with venomous eyes. The older man only titled his head to the side and gave Krycek the staring of his life, until the seasoned punching bag had to turn away, unable to take the passionless glare any longer. This is nothing new,Alex tried to remind himself as he choked momentarily on his own own blood, I've been beaten up much more severely in the past. Mulder. Skinner. Everyone's gotten their moment of glory. So why does this hurt so much more?

He couldn't hold back any longer, and certainly wasn't about to put his gag reflex to the unenviable task at hand. With a blatant disregard for the consequences, Krycek spat the mixture of blood and saliva onto the carpet of Keyser Soze's office. It was absorbed easily by the plush green carpet, and had nearly faded into the dark softness when Krycek felt Soze at his side. Looming. Powerful.

"You really, really, really shouldn't have done that." Keyser said softly, the underlying anger like a current of electricity that made the hairs on the back of Krycek's neck stand at attention. Suddenly comfortable in his asseritveness, Krycek looked over at Mr. Soze.

Ten minutes ago, I had this man in the throes of ecstasy. I was joining him. I was ready to cream all over him and add his name to my list of favorite people in the whole wide world. So what the hell happened to change all that? God forbid he should need to be reminded....

"Fuck you, Soze, I know you left your gun in the bedroom."

"Fuck *you*, Krycek, I have guns hidden all over this place. For situations just like this."

Just like *this*?Krycek thought in an incongruous moment of levity. Chasing from his mind the improbability of Soze's hasty remark, he shrugged quickly. "I'll take that chance."

And he took Keyser's face into his hands, forcing his mouth open with a jovially rebellious tongue. Reminding him. Claiming him again, making sure the man knew who was boss. For a few moments Soze struggled against his unexpected display of affection, but Krycek was surprisingly strong. The young man had some considerable brawn working for him, after all, and Keyser noted with a bit of disappointment that any scuffle would be over quickly. It was apparent that he had nerve working for him, not muscles, and Krycek would have walked away without another scratch. Not that Keyser would have been determined to fight much longer anyway. The softness of Krycek's tongue was soothing him back to his senses, and as he tasted the bitter blood in his lover's mouth he was awash with unprecedented regret.

Convinced by the cessation of Keyser's struggle that his point had been made, Krycek broke away. "Now would you mind telling me what all that was about?!"

"I can't tell you, Alex," Keyser said, leaning in for another quick kiss, "because I was a different man when it happened. But I do apologize for him." He ran his hands up and down Krycek's hard chest, which was moving with anxious breath.

"Just try not to let it happen again, okay?" Alex grumbled, reaching around to give Keyser's ass a teasing pat. A subdued smile broke through the unfeeling facade of Mr. Soze's face, and he took to showering Alex's chest and shoulders with kisses.

Lingering on a nipple, feeling Krycek shudder beneath him, he touched the burgeoning tightness at the crotch of the younger man's pants, tentatively at first, unsure of whether his advance was welcome. When his fingers withdrew in reluctance, he heard Krycek say through clenched teeth, "God, please, touch me."

Keyser lifted his head and let one hand rest on Alex's strong, tanned shoulder, gently carressing back and forth, from the thickly muscled neck to the smoothness of his upper arm as he kissed him madly. His other hand studied the length of Krycek's erection through the denim, feeling it out hungrily and meticulously, as if reading braille. As the young man's penis continued to swell with the prospect of finally getting what he wanted, Krycek pulled Keyser against him, pressing their groins together, driving home the point of how desperately they both needed to be released. They relished in the confined friction for a moment, until Keyser's hand shot to Alex's zipper, unhooking the jeans and grasping the firm cock almost immediately as it sprung free.

"Am I going to get what I want now?" Krycek asked huskily, a reflex causing his hips to roll forward as Keyser stroked his penis tenderly.

Soze pushed him back lightly, and, Alex being at this point no one to argue, he ended up sitting on the desk, leaning back on his elbows. "You little bastard," Keyser muttered, pulling the jeans quickly off of Krycek's body. He leaned over the beautiful, anxious stranger, purposefully brushing his cock in passing, "you are in no place to assume that you are in control."

As Keyser took his mouth into a precursory kiss, Alex had to smile inwardly. Maybe so, he thought, but what a great place to be.