Lost in a fog of lust and need and pain, Vic didn't notice when the stage show ground to a slow halt and all eyes turned on the identical men. Too alike to be unrelated, or so it was thought, they watched as one whimpered and begged while he rode the more dominant one, his generous filled cock harnessed and constrained, his nipples clamped and reddened.
Vic's full mouth was open, breath coming in gasping pants as he worked himself into a frenzy of denied need. "Alexxx," he whimpered as each of his thrusts brought his prostate into direct stimulation. "Please - Jesus, please love, anything - everything. God, need to . . . oh Jesus!"
Turning his face into Alex's neck, Vic latched on to the soft flesh just below the other man's ear and began to suckle hard, then finally, when it was too much, bite down hard on the flesh there as his hands curled clawlike around the armrests - white with tension, and his whole body shook with the strain of denied pleasure.
Alex shuddered as he listened to Vic's whines of frustration and felt his body spasm around him. "That's it, beautiful," he praised, "let everyone see what's mine. Open your eyes, Vic. Look around and see them watching you, wanting you so bad they hurt."
He let his head fall back as Vic fed on his throat, one hand coming up to comb through the dark hair and hold him still. "Look at them, Vic," he rasped.
Vic shook his head slightly, suddenly afraid to see the lust that they'd inspired in others around him. He clung to Alex and whined softly as he continued to nurse on his lover's flesh. Through the veil of his lashes he could see enough, could see the mass of humanity surrounding him.
Over his own whines and muted pleadings he could hear the slap of flesh against flesh and the grunts and moans that signified sex. God in heaven - they'd started an orgy - and one that kept getting closer and closer to him. He felt a hand trace his calf, and he whimpered and shied away, burying himself in his lover's lap even as he impaled himself on the spike of Alex's cock.
Alerted by Vic's whimper and movement, Alex's eyes shot open and focused with deadly intent on the person who'd touched _his_ lover. "Hands off," he snarled, "unless you really want to lose that hand." Since he was suddenly holding a wicked looking knife in his hand, pulled from god knows where, the man rapidly slunk away, and once again, a space cleared around him.
Alex's eyes raked over the crowd. "Make up your minds. The next time someone touches what's mine, someone dies. And I won't be particularly choosy about who. Are you going to keep your fucking hands to yourself, or do we leave?" He had his free arm around Vic, rubbing his back soothingly as he waited.
An anonymous voice spoke up from the crowd. "Stay. No one will touch your brother."
Alex snorted. "He's not my brother; that's just sick." He looked disgusted at the thought. "But you'd better _hope_ no one else touches him."
He turned his attention completely back to Vic, reaching down to remove the cock ring. "You okay, beautiful? We can leave if you want to."
Vic's head was thrown back as soon as the cock ring slipped off, and a tortured soft whimper escaped his lips as he began to slam himself harder and harder onto Alex's cock, not caring about the person who'd touched, him, the crowd, the conversation or Alex's immediate and deadly defense of him. He was too busy wrenching his tortured and aroused body over the edge of sanity and into an orgasm so intense he saw stars.
Finally, coming out of the post-orgasmic fugue he'd been swimming in, Vic dragged Alex's head down and feasted on his lover's lips. "You make me so crazy," he husked, his throat rough from holding in his howls of pleasure. "God - if this was just the warm up, Alex, I'm not going to survive the rest of the night here. You just make me nuts," the ex-cop admitted before chewing on his lover's lips.
"Don't want to leave yet - want to really give em a show," he finally whispered after releasing the assassin's succulent mouth. "Just so long as they don't touch, I'll be fine - I've got you looking out for me, love."
Alex laughed softly. "Glad to hear it, beautiful, since I'd really like to come sometime _before_ we leave," he replied, shifting his hips slightly to remind Vic of the renewed erection inside him. "You're not finished riding yet, baby. This is a long distance course."
He reached between them, petting Vic's softening cock, ignoring the other man's whimpers that it was too much, that it hurt. He knew how sensitive Vic was just then, and he wasn't going to be cheated out of making him scream. "I told you I'd make you scream tonight, beautiful. You haven't done that yet. But you will." He had Vic arch back over his supporting arm and removed the nipple clamps, making the Canadian's nipples accessible to his hungry mouth.
A high pitched whimper escaped Vic's open mouth as his prostate was massaged by a still erect cock and his nipples were licked and chewed on. Alex was purposely driving him crazy, he thought to himself as a muffled shriek tore its way out of his throat at a particularly hard jab.
"'Lex, please, god 'Lex," he begged softly even though he never stopped the minute rocking motions of his hips. Once more Victor lost himself in his lover, the club, the people, everything becoming lost in the haze of his lust. His whimpers became louder and louder, and soon Vic was doing just what Alex had wanted, he screamed as a dry orgasm was wrung from his over stimulated body leaving him a quivering, sobbing wreck in his lover's arms.
"Perfect, Vic," Alex praised softly, petting his lover, stroking his heaving back. "Now you just have to get me off, beautiful," arching his hips for emphasis, "then you can relax for a little while." He smiled sweetly at Vic's expression.
Vic whimpered and begged and moaned, but to no avail. Slowly, with an almost painful whimper, he began to move his hips, canting them up and down as he squeezed his muscles tightly, massaging every inch of his lover's still hard flesh. He was determined to bring Alex off in as short a time as possible seeing as how each of his lover's thrusts into his overly sensitized body brought a tiny mewl of pleasure-pain.
Faster and faster he pumped his hips, the little mewls growing in volume until he latched on to the first available piece of flesh he could find - one of Alex's nipples, and began to nurse hard at it, using it as a grown up pacifier.
The only indication he had was a slight stiffening of his lover's muscles. It was enough. Squeezing his ass cheeks as tightly as he could, Vic bit down on Alex's tender nipple and was rewarded with a hoarse bellow and the sensation of liquid fire filling him as Alex was driven into orgasm.
With an exhausted sigh of relief-tinged happiness, Vic curled into Alex's still shuddering body and relaxed at long last.
Alex hugged Vic to him tightly, glancing around quickly to make sure no one had gotten too close while he was concentrating on his lover. Apparently, everyone had taken his threat seriously since there was clear zone around them. He slowly stroked Vic's back, soothing him, knowing he'd driven him close to the edge of his endurance.
"You were amazing, baby," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the sweaty forehead tucked against him. "I love you, love that you give yourself up to me so completely. Couldn't live without you now."
He glanced over at the bar, and the bartender almost instantly appeared. "Water for me and scotch on the rocks for my friend here."
He handed the drink to Vic when it arrived moments later, and drank half his water in a single long gulp. "Come on, beautiful, shift around a little. You're going to miss the show." He motioned toward the stage with his chin, where the next show was about to start.
***
Following the Director obediently like the good little sub he was supposed to be, Malcolm Ramsey stepped into the dimly lit club, his jaw clenched in frustration. This was a fucking waste of time, no way Vic would be in a place like this unless he was forced to be, and if that was the case.... Well, Mac had definite plans for whoever was stupid enough to dare to touch his partner - definite bloody plans, the Director be damned.
Two weeks ago, he'd been in Iceland - fucking Iceland of all places - for 'remedial training' because of a job that had almost gone bad. To Mac's way of thinking, almost didn't count; hell, they'd caught the bad guys without anyone getting hurt, so what was the problem? But noooo, the Director, sadistic bitch that she was, decided that he and Li Ann had acted rashly and packed them off to Siberia while Victor - goody two shoes gorgeous dork that he was - got a first class ticket to New Orleans on the Agency tab.
After a week of freezing his ass off, wearing furs that smelled suspiciously like they hadn't been cleaned since the animal wearing them had been skinned, and eating raw blubber, Mac was fully ready to repent whatever it was he'd done - if only to get where it was warm again. For some reason, Li Ann seemed to be thriving in the hostile environment, but what was new there? His sister would make it wherever she landed - always had and always would. Then, when they'd been out on some god-forsaken patch of tundra tracking some god-forsaken quarry, the call had come through that had chilled Mac even more than the arctic winds whipping around them; Victor was missing.
So here he was, one week later, ready to scream because of the lack of leads, ready to do whatever it took to sell his soul if he had to in order to find the older man. Seven full days of chasing around New Orleans and the surrounding area, tracking down anything that resembled information, seven nights of torturing himself as to what might be happening to Victor - his sweet, luscious, too good for his own good Victor. Okay, so the older man had no clue how badly Mac wanted him, but that was going to change the minute they found him, damnit.
The fact that he'd had no clue that Vic swung both ways was the main reason Mac had held off simply jumping his partner, but after the little interview session he'd had with Lars.... To say Mac was having to re-think his opinion of his partner's sexuality was putting it mildly. Of course the Section Six operative's director hadn't been all that impressed with his agent leaving the briefing with a broken nose, but Mac didn't give a fuck. The asshole had been with _his_ Victor, then had let _someone_ take him; in his opinion that meant he shouldn't be alive.
And if anything happened to Vic, he wouldn't be.
When the Director had shown up at his room this afternoon carrying a garment bag and Mac what had seen what was inside, he'd exploded. They were supposed to be working, and _she_ wanted to go to a fucking leather club! His attempt to storm out past her ended with Mac on his back on the floor with one of the hellion's spiked heels planted firmly on his chest. "This is _work_, Mr. Ramsey, so do your job, then maybe I'll let you play."
Work. Yeah, right. That's why he was dressed in dark brown leather pants that looked like they'd been painted on and a gold silk vest without any buttons. And work was definitely why the Director took every opportunity available to touch him on the ride over. Fucking bitch; this was another power play, he was sure of it.
This being one of the clubs where _anything_ went, the patrons were either engaged in fucking each other senseless or watching the floor show up on the stage. All except an ever widening knot near a back room that seemed to be utterly distracted by something else.
"Go and check that out, there's a good boy," the Director purred, running one leather-clad hand down Mac's chest, then patting his crotch. "But don't be too long, or I'll have to come looking for you, and you won't like what happens then."
Biting back a caustic reply, knowing it would only get him more of the same, Mac threaded his way through the densely packed crowds, weaving his way ever closer to the back room and whatever was going on there. It must have been a hell of a show, because most of the people there seemed to be recovering from a serious fuckfest. Deftly avoiding the few folks that had enough energy to attempt a grope, Mac glanced toward the stage. Couldn't be the couple up there; they looked like they were just getting started, and they certainly weren't hot enough to set off the kind of combustion that seemed to have taken place here.
_Victor, where the fuck are you?_ the ex-thief thought to himself. _Man, when I find you, I am going to kill you - after I take you home and explain in detail just why you are mine and why you're going to stay that way._ Stepping over a mostly nude pile of entwined bodies, Mac headed toward the bar, hoping to get a clearer view of the room. The bass beat of the music was loud enough to make the floor vibrate, making him wonder privately if that was enough to get some people off.
The bartender took his order, and, after bringing back the shot of whiskey, nodded toward a large, backlit chair surrounded by quite a bit of open space. "You just missed quite a show, but, unless I miss my mark, they'll start up again soon." He chuckled, then glanced at Mac appreciatively. "Not something I'd want to watch alone, so if you're interested . . ."
"Sorry. I'm looking for someone in particular. If he isn't here, I doubt I'll be around for the next 'show'." Mac glanced towards the chair as he slugged back the shot, then went into a paroxysm of coughing when he recognized the collared man lying nearly supine across his partner's lap. The amount of bare skin he saw on both acted as a magnet, drawing Mac closer, step by dragging step, until he was at the edge of the circle of patrons surrounding them.
Murderous rage built up inside the young man, making his dark eyes blaze, and he took another step forward - and froze when the man on in the chair shifted enough to let the light fall on his face. He then kissed his partner, who clung to him as if he was the only person who existed for him.
"What the fuck?!" The words were loud enough to be heard over the music, and the men broke apart, turning identical smoldering green gazes his way.
"No way, no fucking way . . ." Mac took a step backwards, nearly stumbling over someone behind him, then, with a look that combined anguish, fury and confusion, spun and stormed out of the room.
Finding the Director, he broke into her conversation with a woman in a black catsuit and a feathered mask, ignoring her angry protest. "He's in the back if you want him, but I'd say he was otherwise occupied right now - and probably has been the whole time he's been gone."
Ignoring the Director's demand for more information, Mac strode out of the club and into the cool nighttime air, grabbing a cab and heading to a bar. Upon entering, he slammed down onto a stool, ordered a double shot of bourbon and tossed it back, motioning for another.
"What's wrong, cher?" The question came from the well-endowed blonde sitting next to him, sipping her drink in between puffs on her cigarette. "You look as if you just lost your best friend."
"You could say that," he muttered wryly, swallowing the smooth fire of his next drink before turning to look at her fully. "Mind if I bum a smoke?" It had been years since he'd indulged in this habit - jail had been quite an effective way to kick the need for a nicotine fix - but tonight - well considering his world had just been turned upside down and inside out, what was a little black lung disease?
"But of course, darlin', what's mine is yours," the woman purred, leaning closer and offering first the cigarette and then a light. "I'm Marie."
"Mac," he answered, after taking that first bitter drag. "Say, Marie, you interested in taking this somewhere more private?"
***
Vic gasped as he recognized the burnt hazel gaze of his partner. "Mac?" he whispered softly. The pain that had radiated from those eyes before they'd turned hard in fury made something clench in his gut. And then Mac had spun away, was gone.
Trying to untangle himself from Alex, Vic found himself held tightly. "Alex, you gotta let me . . . that was _Mac_! My partner. Oh fuck, if he's here, that means so is the Director. I can't let her see me swinging easy like this . . . oh fuck, Mac looked devastated, Alex," the younger man whispered, turning his face into his lover's neck. "What have I done?"
Alex stiffened, withdrawing from Vic even though the other man was still sitting in his lap. "What have you done?" he repeated in an odd tone. "Made a mistake, apparently. Hurry up, Victor. I'm sure if you hurry, you can catch your _partner_," he sneered, trying to cover his hurt that the only one Vic seemed to be concerned about was this Mac person.
He refused to meet Vic's eyes, his arms hanging straight at his sides, somehow managing to ignore the half-naked man in his lap.
"Alex?" Vic raised his eyes to look at his lover, totally baffled as to what he'd done to merit this reaction. He was torn between worry about his friend and the pain he'd briefly seen in his lover's eyes and didn't know where to turn first, only that Alex was withdrawing from him.
Reaching out a hand, Vic gasped softly when Alex jerked his head back to avoid being touched. "Alex, please, don't do this. Oh god, you promised you'd love-- why didn't you just fucking kill me, you bastard, it would have been easier than ripping my heart out!"
Bending, Vic struggled into his, Alex's, pants and vest then stopped suddenly and looked at the older man, green eyes made crystalline with the moisture that refused to fall. "Doesn't matter, you know, I'm still gonna love you forever. You should have killed me." Vic spun and began to move away, only to come face to face with the Director.
"Hey there, dragon lady, come to take me home?"
Alex jumped up and grabbed Vic's arm, spinning him around again. He totally ignored the angry redhead behind his lover. "You're really picking him over me. Goddamn you, how dare you make me love you then walk away! Fuck you!" A totally dead look replaced the teasing gleam that had been in his eyes, and he walked away without another word.
He'd only taken a few steps when a familiar voice halted him in his tracks. He turned slowly to one side, eyes running indifferently over the figure standing there.
"I thought I told you to take care of the problem, Alex?"
Alex shrugged. "It wasn't necessary. He's leaving."
Spender eyed him through the blue haze of his smoke. "And the reason you didn't report back for your next assignment these last two weeks?" He shook his head when Alex just stared at him silently. "I'm going to have to punish you for that, Alex." He stroked Alex's chest familiarly, and the younger man simply stared over his shoulder into space.
Vic was a blur of motion, and the smoker found himself thrown against a wall, an arm pressing into his windpipe and eyes full of rage and grief staring menacingly into his own - Alex's eyes. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but you touch my lover again - or threaten him in any way, and I can guarantee you won't be walking out of here; they'll be carting your sorry ass out in a body bag."
"Victor!"
"Walk away," he warned his boss quietly. "You can get your pound of flesh later - not that I'm going to care one way or another, but this . . . just walk away."
"No, Victor, I want you to walk away. I need to have a word with Mr. Spender," the woman in the black leather bustier purred softly. "Arranging to have my people kidnapped, are we, Carl? And killed. Naughty, naughty. And here I thought you and I had an understanding. It would seem we need to reacquaint ourselves with the rules of the game.
"Now be a good boy, Vic, and go back to your apartment. And take a shower - you reek of sex."
Vic slowly released the smoker and backed away, then turned to look at Alex with eyes gone black with grief. "I wasn't choosing anyone over you. I couldn't. Guess you made the choice for me - yet again."
Feeling older than he ever thought he could - bent and broken in both body and soul, Vic pulled on the leather jacket that the Director had been wearing - his leather jacket - and walked outside, only to stand there as he fought the urge to keep on walking - in front of a bus, or into the river or something. Maybe he should go back to the apartment. Chances were his gun was still there. A quick call to Alice, another one to Mac's answering machine to tie up his loose ends and...
Alex stared after Vic, every muscle quivering with the desire to follow him. He threw a glance back at Spender, then at the menacing redhead, then said to hell with it. He really didn't care if Spender put out another kill order on him; if he lost Vic, he might save the cancerous bastard the effort and just eat a bullet. He bolted after his lover, skidding to a halt when he almost ran over Vic.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly to Vic's back. "I wasn't trying to choose for you. I truly thought you were leaving me for him." He took a deep breath. "I've never had to share anyone's affection before. I'm still having a little trouble believing that you can love me, never mind love me and still care about someone else."
As if from a distance, Vic heard Alex's husky voice and slowly turned his head, thinking that perhaps he was truly going insane at last. After all Alex was leaving him, just like Vic knew he would eventually.
But there Alex stood, saying he loved Vic. Almost hurling himself into his lover's arms, Vic tried to crawl inside Alex or get so close they'd become one body. His brain had shut down when Alex's eyes went dead in the club, and he was acting on instinct alone.
A soft, keening sound was torn from his throat as he shivered uncontrollably and tried desperately to get the maelstrom of emotions raging through him under some sort of control. "Don't. Don't ever leave me. Please. God, if you do, kill me first coz I wouldn't survive. Was gonna... Would have done something stupid if you hadn't. 'Lex..."
Alex's arms closed convulsively around the other man, and his face went dead white. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. All he could do was hold his lover and shake. The thought that Vic would have killed himself... He couldn't bear it.
Glancing around, he spotted a shadowy alcove a couple of doors down and urged Vic over to it. He leaned back, more comfortable out of the foot traffic coming and going from the club, still holding Vic tightly. "Vic... If anything were ever to happen to you... I'd die too, baby. Just keep that in mind. I love you too much to go back to being alone. You have to stay with me. You promised me." It was a child's cry, from the heart.
"Loveyouloveyouloveyouneverleaveyou," Victor whispered over and over again, crawling over and around and trying to get _inside_ the older man. His hands and his mouth raced over exposed skin in desperation as he tried to comfort his lover, himself and feed the needy space that was his heart, which was Alex.
Finally managing to wrench himself away from his life, Vic yanked Alex out, hauled him into a taxi, then gave the cabbie the address of his apartment even as he crawled into the older man's lap, not giving a damn if he did give the driver an eyeful; he just couldn't be apart from his lover right now, not even for an instant.
Alex frowned a little when he heard the address, not wanting to go where Vic's life would catch hold of them and drag them away from the little cocoon they'd been living in. He knew that it was too late though. It had been from the moment Vic's partner had spotted him in the club.
It was time to deal with both their pasts and figure out what future they might have together. He hugged Vic tightly, almost clinging to him. When they arrived at Vic's apartment, he handed some money to the driver and stepped out, still holding Vic. He walked up to the door, slow dragging step by step. He started to stand aside to let Vic open the door, then remembered that the other man didn't have the keys with him. He picked the lock and let them in, locking it behind them.
Alex wandered into the living room, not glancing in the direction of the bedroom where Vic had fucked that blond himbo. "So, what now?"
"Love me?" Vic husked softly, reaching out to the other half of his heart. "Just love me?"
Moving closer and closer still, Vic pressed Alex down into the couch and straddled him, knowing the rooms were being monitored as per her high and mightiness' usual s.o.p. but not giving a damn. He needed this. Needed to reconfirm and reconnect.
"I _love_ you, Alex. I'll never leave you, except unwillingly and by force. Mac is my partner and my friend, and I worry about him. We've been partners for three years now, friends for most of that time. I never stopped to consider how my going missing the way I did would affect them. But," he placed a finger over Alex's mouth when the older man made to speak. "But, I will _never_ regret any of the time we were together. The only thing I regret is that I hurt people I care about, even unintentionally. I can't regret finding the other half of my heart, not even for a second."
Alex sighed. "Guess that means running away together's out of the question, huh?" A small smile quirked the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry I overreacted. Again. I wasn't ready to come face-to-face with the other part of your life. I probably never would have been. I don't _want_ to share you with anyone." He ran his hands over Vic's back almost unconsciously.
"I don't want a long-distance relationship, Vic. If, _when_ you go back to Toronto, what happens to us?"
"You come with us, Mr. Krycek," the Director answered from the doorway. "Now aren't you two sweet, like bookends or Siamese twins," the redhead simpered with a sickly smile.
"Taking my agent has made me _very_ unhappy, Mr. Krycek. Luckily for you, your boss was there to... learn of my displeasure. He's revoked all rights to your existence as reparation. You belong to _me_ now."
Holding up a hand she moved to stand in front of the two men and took Vic's chin between her fingers, turning his head so that she could look at him. "Are you sure? It won't be easy, and I wouldn't want to see you get hurt," the Director asked her agent softly, ignoring her newest toy for the man she'd come to care about. As much as she could care about anyone.
"Yeah," Vic smiled softly, his hand coming up to squeeze hers. "I'm sure. I love him," he said simply.
"You have 24 hours to settle your affairs in New Orleans, Mr. Krycek. Victor, I'll find Mac. You have a few more hours of wedded bliss before reality comes crashing in on your little cookiecutter world. Ta ta, boys. Oh - and smile pretty for the cameras." With that, she was gone.
Alex gaped after her, stunned by the last several minutes. No, it was more like a single minute, despite the number of shocks she'd managed to deliver. "Is she always like that?" he finally managed to say.
"Holy shit, I thought I was involved with some wacked out people." He shook his head. "Doesn't matter what she thinks though. Do _you_ want me to come back with you? Do you really want to try to fit me, us, this, into your everyday life? She was right about one thing, Vic. It won't be easy. I come with a lot of baggage. Even more than I've already dumped on you."
"Do you love me, Alex?" Vic asked softly, watching his lover carefully to gauge his reaction. At the older man's exasperated sigh and growled 'yes, you idiot', Vic chuckled and kissed the ex-assassin passionately.
"Have you even stopped to consider my everyday life, 'lex? I work for _her_ for cryin' out loud... how normal is that? I'm an ex-cop who was charged with narcotics possession who got out mysteriously and now works for the Government Advisory Committee in 'security'. In other words I'm a covert operative who risks his life, sometimes daily, works out of a reservoir and is a 'prince of the Illuminati... oh god, wait 'til _he_ sees you and me together. He'll flip."
Vic almost tumbled to the floor as he began to laugh harder and harder at the thought of Nathan Muckle and Alex meeting for the first time. He should sell tickets - really he should. Alex just sat there, arms wrapped loosely around Vic's waist, looking at him if he'd lost his mind.
"Alex, I _want_ you in my life. I _need_ you there. So stop trying to convince me otherwise, okay. Trust me, lover, I know about baggage. I have a fair bit myself that you're gonna be subjected to on an almost daily basis. Now stop borrowing trouble, take me into that bedroom and fuck me. This is where we have make-up sex... it's an unwritten rule, you know. You fight and you have to have hot, sweaty, nasty make-up sex!"
"I can handle that. In fact, I insist on it," Alex responded, grinning again, reminding himself to find out more about that prince of the illuminati thing. He stood up after he urged Vic to his feet, then led his lover to the bedroom, only to stop just inside.
He glared at the rumpled bed, exactly as it had been after Vic's session with that blond bastard. "Uh Vic. I'm not using sheets you fucked someone else on," he said with a snap, jealousy clear in his voice.
Vic turned to look at Alex in surprise, his arousal spiking even higher. Pressing up against the older man's back, Vic ground his aching, leather-covered erection against Alex. "Do you have _any_ idea just how much you're turning me on right now?" he husked, nipping at the assassin's ear. "Fuck - I never knew jealousy could be such a goddamn turn on. No wonder women do it to men all the time."
Sliding around Alex until they were face to face, Vic yanked his head down for a hard, passionate kiss before releasing him abruptly and walking over to the bed. Stripping the sheets off with a single tug, Vic grabbed the comforter for after and then flopped back on the now denuded bed.
"Well, no more nasty sheets," he grinned lasciviously, his hand going to pet his obvious bulge. "So come get me, you bad ass assassin, you."
Alex smirked down at him from the foot of the bed, slowly shrugging out of his clothes. "Why should I?" he asked, ignoring the erection between his legs. He bent over, placing his hands on the mattress, then his knees and slowly crawling up till he straddled Vic's body. He lowered his head, brushing their lips together in a light kiss.
"In fact," he said quietly, shifting to the side and stretching out on his belly beside Vic, "I think I want you to take me instead." He turned his head to look at his lover, need shining in the green gaze.
Vic groaned softly. "Damn, you do know how to get me going, don't you?" the younger man purred, urging Alex to roll over, then letting his hands wander down his lover's chest to fondle the obvious bulge he found.
Rolling over so that he was straddling the older man, Vic looked down at his lover with a devilish grin on his face. "Undress me, 'Lex."
Alex gasped, staring up at Vic, green eyes wide, lower lip caught between his teeth, body aroused almost to the point of pain. His hands moved over Vic's body, unlacing the tight leather for the second time that night. This time was so very different from the first though. This time, Vic was in control, and Alex was the one whimpering his pleasure.
With Vic's help, occasionally shifting to allow Alex to peel the leather garments off, Alex soon had his lover naked and sitting atop him. He squirmed, hips moving restlessly beneath his double's weight. "Please, Vic," he said softly, "I need you."
Vic quickly reversed the way he was straddling Alex and slid backwards so that his erect cock was dangling over the other man's mouth. Working quickly, Vic had Alex's own leathers down around his knees and the older man's cock sliding down his throat in order to be fully engulfed.
Gobbling softly, Vic worked his lover's hard flesh with relish, savoring the taste of sweat and semen and Alex. Purring softly, he rose long enough to scrape his day old stubble along the sensitized flesh and mouth the two orbs that rested beneath. "Love the way you taste, 'lex," he moaned quietly as he petted and teased Alex. "Nothing tastes as good as you. And you smell like us - like sex. I could worship you this way forever."
Feeling lips catch hold of his own erection and drink him in, Vic closed his eyes and shuddered ecstatically. No matter how many times and how many ways they loved each other, it was always new and different. Moving back to swallow Alex again, Vic began to purr softly, a throaty rumble that vibrated along his lover's cock even as his tongue danced over its surface.
He wanted to taste Alex again - wanted to drink his lover down and then take him, fuck him until he was hard again and could take Vic once more before they slept. Vic needed that, needed Alex imbedded inside him, soft and sated, even as the older man slept curled around him. His very own assassin safety blanket.
_Come for me 'Lex,_ Vic thought to himself, willing his lover's flesh to jump and spurt its milky essence down his throat. _Come for me, lover._
Alex quivered under Vic's attentions, feeling that gorgeous, talented mouth work him even as he suckled on the heavy cock in his mouth. It felt so good, feeling Vic play with him, tasting his love at the same time, that he wanted this to last forever. But Vic's throat massaging the head of his cock as he swallowed was too much for him, and he cried the other man's name softly as he came. He mewled a protest when Vic pulled away from him, wanting to taste his lover's seed as well, but he stopped arguing when he realized Vic intended to fuck him finally.
"Yes," he moaned, sprawling on his back, his knees pulled to his chest, leaving him spread open for whatever Vic wanted to do. He squirmed a little, his still semi-hard cock nicely framed between his thighs, then gasped when Vic prepared him quickly and slid into him, driving against his prostate.
"Oh fuck!" His hands gripped the backs of his thighs hard enough to bruise, and he whined when Vic continued to strike his prostate, driving him back into erection.
Vic grunted softly, driven beyond words by the sleek channel that hugged his rampant erection. "'Lex," he managed to gasp out as he slammed home time and again, his hand coming down to stroke Alex's cock into renewed life.
"Love you, love you so much," he wailed as with a last brutal thrust of his hips he came, sending streamers of hot semen into his lover. A flick or two more of his wrist and Alex was coming with him, the older man's inner muscles squeezing his spasming cock and making Vic's wails turn to little sobbing gasps for mercy.
Collapsing onto Alex's chest, Vic all but devoured the ex-assassin's mouth. "Mine," he finally gasped as they were forced apart by need for oxygen. "All mine."
"As long as you're mine," Alex replied, the familiar possessive gleam in his eyes. He carefully pulled off of Vic, moaning quietly as his lover slipped out of him, then positioned his renewed erection at Vic's entrance. "I presume you had a reason for arousing me again, baby. Far be it for me to disappoint you." He smiled, starting to glide languidly into his lover, slowly stroking back and forth. "Gonna keep this up as long as possible, beautiful. Gonna love you all night."
Vic moaned quietly, his eyes dark and slumberous as he felt the glide and pull of Alex filling him. Everything he was narrowed down to this one moment, the moment when Alex was claiming him. It was. . . a homecoming. This was what he was and who he was meant to belong to. He was Alex's.
Reaching up with almost exhausted arms, Vic pulled Alex down for a sex drugged kiss. "Love you," he whispered as his eyes drifted shut, and he wallowed in the sensations the older man brought to him.
"Love you too," Alex replied. "I won't ever let anyone take you away from me, baby. We belong together. Even if I have to put up with that boss of yours." He frowned slightly, then shook his head, dismissing her, wanting to concentrate on the joy of having Vic under him, of being inside Vic and loving him.
"So beautiful," he murmured, a finger tracing the soft, parted lips of his lover. "I just want to make you happy, Vic." He stared down into the identical features, still sometimes surprised by what he saw.
"You do. God, Alex!" Vic moaned as his eyes flew open with a particularly accurate thrust to his prostate. "Oh please, please, 'lex," the younger man moaned, his head tossing side to side and his hands clenching the sheets. Bowing his back, Vic let out a small, inarticulate scream, and he began to shiver with heat.
Alex smiled, biting his lip to prevent a groan. He somehow maintained his slow, steady pace, loving Vic thoroughly. "I'd love to still be inside you like this when the sun comes up," he breathed into his lover's ear. "Wanna love you all night long, beautiful. Am never going to let you go."
"Thank god!" the Canadian murmured fervently, thanking whatever gods seemed to be watching out for him for keeping him and Alex together. Though the idea that the Director was his fairy godmother just made him shiver in horror. "Faster, 'lex, just had the worst mental image. I need you to get rid of it, please?" he grinned up at the ex assassin.
Alex chuckled raggedly. "Should I be insulted? I'm fucking you, and you're thinking about someone or something else?" He pushed his hips forward harder, striking Vic's prostate and smiling at the whine and quiver that produced. "Concentrate on me, beautiful. Feel me, what I'm doing to you, how deep I am inside you. Tell me how you feel, what you want."
He lowered his head, catching the skin of his lover's throat between his teeth and marking him, then licking the bruised spot softly, over and over. "Mine," he vowed.
Vic whimpered and let his eyes drift shut, sensation washing over him faster and faster. "Feels, fuck, 'lex, can feel _you_! Every ridge, every movement, so hot and deep inside. . . me," he managed to gasp out, his breath hitching in his throat.
"Feel you sliding in, inch by inch, feel the vein throbbing, so hot, 'lex. Your skin is so hot," Vic moaned, and his hands came up to clutch at the assassin's shoulders, his legs wrapping around Alex's neck as if to lock the older man in place. "Love you, want you, only you," the Agent sobbed in need. "GOD!"
The ex-assassin bit back a groan as Vic wrapped around him, feeling surrounded by his lover. "Wish we could stay like this forever," he gasped. "We belong to each other, no one else. Come for me, baby," he urged, feeling his balls draw up against his body as his climax drew nearer. He pumped Vic's cock in his fist, wanting to feel his lover come first and to watch him fly apart in his arms.
"Alex, my Alex," Vic moaned softly as his world began to unravel at the seams, shredded by the pleasure his lover was giving him. He could feel his blood heat and his balls draw up against his body. Muscles locked in the rictus of pleasure, and with a soft wail the younger man came apart in Alex's arms, sending creamy arcs of semen to decorate both their stomachs.
Vic's orgasm triggered Alex's own, his lover's body convulsing around him and the rippling muscles milking him. He drove deeply one last time, gasping Vic's name as he came. As the last tremors of pleasure ebbed from his body, he slumped over the other man, blanketing him with his own body. He buried his face against Vic's throat, his tongue darting out to lick the mark he'd placed there only minutes before. "Never going to let you go." He smiled, finally almost secure in Vic's love and believing that his lover wouldn't leave him.
Vic smiled tiredly up at the older man. "Good," he sighed with a satisfied grin. "Would have to hunt you down and hurt you if you tried to."
Vic let his legs slide down Alex's back so that they were in a more
comfortable position and wrapped his arms around the now ex-Consortium
agent. "You really wouldn't want to see me in a pissed off mood,
Alex, it's not pretty," he continued to tease as he held the other man
tight.
"Want you in me when we sleep tonight, want to know you're really a
part of me," the Canadian continued, his voice going drowsy with satiation
and the exhaustion caused by earlier stresses and exertions of that evening.
So much had happened so fast; had it really only been weeks since he'd
first arrived in New Orleans?
It was almost as if the Vic that had arrived here with the Director had indeed died because he could hardly relate to that lonely, almost bitter man anymore. He was a new, complete person, someone who was loved and needed. Someone who had Alex Krycek. "Love you, 'lex, god, I love you," he sighed, content, as his eyes drifted shut for the final time that night.
"Love you too," Alex murmured, falling asleep only moments after his lover.
***
The feeling of contentment vanished quickly the next morning when they were woken by the Director, who appeared in their bedroom. Alex's eyes widened, then narrowed with fury when he saw her eyes appreciatively inspecting Vic's naked body.
"You may have heard of a quaint custom that many people practice called knocking," he snarled as he yanked the covers over his lover and himself.
The Director smiled coolly. "Our flight back to Toronto leaves at 3:00 today. Be on time." She tossed their tickets onto the bed, then waited for their response.
Vic groaned and buried his face under Alex. She just _had_ to do that, didn't she? Show that she was still the top bitch in the operation. God, he really hated this job sometimes.
Fighting the urge to stay buried underneath his lover, Vic finally surfaced, glowering at the redhead. "Okay. Fine. We'll be on the damn plane, now would you mind getting out of here?" he tossed back, eyes snapping angrily. "You've shown us who's top dog, we get the message yadda yadda. You can leave now!"
Her eyebrows rose and then she sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed to show off their length beneath the short, leather skirt. "I can do many things, dear boy. What I choose to do is another matter." She reached out to trace one long, red talon along his arm, only to have it knocked away by a snarling Alex.
"Keep your damn hands off! He's mine!" The look in his eyes promised death if she touched Vic again and made even the Director pause.
Vic looked at Alex for a moment, hardly daring to believe his lover's snarling and warning, then smiled almost beatifically and curled into the older man. "Yeah, I am," he smiled, completely forgetting the Director was even there. "All yours, 'lex."
Alex's arms tightened around Vic, and he slowly relaxed.
The Director smiled faintly, reassured by the assassin's reaction and a little easier about leaving her agent in his keeping for the next several hours. Having found out what she'd come for, she stood up, leaving after a final reminder not to miss the flight.
"Does she do that often?" Alex demanded, still annoyed.
Vic mumbled a quiet reply into the older man's chest, knowing damn well that their boss did a lot more than just walk in on people. The stuff she pulled on a continuing basis with Mac and having their apartments bugged. . . Alex was _not_ going to like that one bit. However, the Canadian wanted to bask a little more in the sensations of being possessed. He'd tell Alex later . . . much later.
"She's the Director," he stated blandly, pulling Alex's head down for a kiss. "Change the subject now."
Alex continued to grumble for a while, more for form's sake, then subsided, contentedly nuzzling his lover. "You smell like stale sex, beautiful. Time for a shower."
Vic grinned at the other man. "So do you, Alex. And it's your fault I'm like this, so you can scrub my back!" That said, the younger man clambered off the bed and sauntered into the bathroom. Throwing a sultry glance back over his shoulder, Vic smiled enticingly. "Come scrub my back, 'lex. You _know_ how much you like watching my back."
Chuckling, the ex-assassin followed his lover, eyes glued to Vic's flexing ass. "Very pretty, baby. If I wash your back, will you wash mine?" He leered laughingly. "And for the record, you still owe me a night at a club. We were interrupted last night before I got a chance to do more than half of what I had planned for you. We'll have to find a good place in Toronto to finish our evening."
He stepped under the water, letting his head fall back as the jets pounded down on his body. "Mmmmm, that feels good."
"Well, there's always the Caligula; only problem with that is that the Director is one of the founding members. That could be a problem," Vic sighed as he let the water beat down on him. Picking up the soap, Vic made a rich lather in his hands and began to run them up and down his 'twin's' chest.
"Then again, knowing you, you'll come up with a solution. After all, you're so very, very smart, my love," Vic purred as he thoroughly washed his lover's front before moving on to the back. "God, I'd love to take you right here, right now, but we need to pack," Vic moaned as he rested his head on Alex's shoulder, trying to calm his rapidly rousing body.
Alex reached back to take Vic's erection in his hand, then turned and sank to his knees, taking his lover into his mouth and quickly sucking him off. When he was done, he stood up and kissed Vic hard. "Let that keep you till we get home, baby. For now, you're right. We need to pack, though I don't really have much here. I'll have Pauline close up the house again for me." He shrugged. "I'll buy anything I need when we get to Toronto."
Vic fought against collapsing onto the floor of the shower. "Damn, 'lex! Warn me when you're gonna do that," he joked weakly. Standing still, he let his lover wash him clean then hustle him out of the shower and dry him.
Stopping suddenly, he looked at his lover. "I'm scared, Alex. Suddenly I'm terrified to leave New Orleans.
Alex pulled him into his arms and hugged him tightly. "Nothing's going to change, beautiful. We'll still be together; nothing will change that. We'll just have a whole city full of new places to fuck each other," he teased.
Vic laughed, shaking off his sudden, irrational panic attack. "You're right, and I'm an idiot; sometimes I wonder why you love me."
Walking to the closet, Vic pulled out clothes that hardly looked like they should belong to him after wearing Alex's for the last couple of weeks. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but. . . Mac was right. I _did_ dress like a dork. I think I need to go shopping," Vic sighed as he pulled on the jeans and did up the plaid shirt.
Alex eyed him. "Well, not a dork, beautiful, but yeah, you could use a fashion improvement. You can keep the jeans though." Grinning at the tight, black denim that molded his lover's body. "Those just need a couple of strategically placed rips for ease of access." He pulled on his own jeans and shirt. "The shirt and long underwear have got to go. I'm thinking silk shirts, baby."
"I do _not_ wear long underwear, you shit!" Vic growled as he flung one of his sweatshirts at the older man. "However, if you don't like what I wear, I'll let you dress me - after we get home. So, should I even bother to pack this stuff you think?"
"Then what would you call that white thing you wear under the lumberjack shirts? It looks like the top of long underwear to me." Alex smirked at him. "And sure, bring it. It'll be good for when it's cold and we want to go out skiing or snowmobiling or something. And I'll enjoy peeling it off of you." He leaned in and kissed the other man. "I'll be happy to dress you, beautiful. I want to show off my gorgeous lover and know that no one else gets to touch."
Vic groaned. "Okay, I wear long underwear - when I'm playing hockey, that's it! You are such an ass," he bemoaned as he began to throw his clothes on the bed in order to stuff them in his suitcase.
Packing took all of fifteen minutes, and with one last snap of the locks Vic took one final look around the room. "Well, that's it, guess I'm done. Time to go, I guess."
Alex nodded. "Yeah. We just have time to go have brunch with Pauline and ask her to take care of closing up the house and apartment for us. We'll come back for vacations, baby." He hugged Vic close. "Let's go, beautiful. This is the start of a beautiful friendship," he wisecracked, grinning.
"Christ, I'm in love with a guy who quotes bad movies - I'm doomed!" Vic groaned playfully as he shut the door behind them without looking back.
END