Pairing:  Skinner/Krycek
Rating: Nc-17
Date Posted: 5-25-03 Version 1 (not beta read) 5-26-03 (Revised and beta read by Diane and Linda)
Archive: FHSA, DIB, Rat B, FONXL,
Classification: Slash with a mild kink and romance
Series/Sequel: Is this story part of a series: No
Web Site: http://fhsarchive.com/ursula/
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters, but I'm still hoping.
Notes: Thanks to Diane (Kinky Girl) and Linda (Yankee Starbuck) for the beta
Warnings: Captive Alex and kinky Skinner: Written for the birthday of our beloved Peach
Summary: Skinner has the aliens make a perfect lover for him.
Time Frame: Never Never
 
 
 
 

"Let me see my arm today, beautiful," Walter said.

Without hesitation, Alex came to him. He extended the arm that Walter had asked the rebels to replace. It was lovely, perfect.

"Open and close your fist, love," Walter said.

Like a flower blooming in fast-forward, Alex furled and unfurled his fingers.

"Any pain or weakness?" Walter asked.

"None," Alex said.

"That's wonderful. I guess they know what they were doing," Walter said. "Let down your hair, Alex. I want to brush it."

Walter hadn't forbidden Alex from braiding it and winding it into a bun at the back of his neck. He wasn't sure if he liked it until the first time he told Alex to let it down. Then the motion of the strong, beautifully shaped arms as Alex responded to his command had thrilled Walter to the core. The way the armpit was exposed to him, the tilt of the rosy brown nipples, and the play of the muscles beneath the smooth skin entranced him. He had barely endured waiting until the hair was free, flowing softly down to Alex's ass. He tugged his beloved to the bed and ravished him.

Walter shrugged out of his clothing. Alex was already naked. He had been careful to adjust the temperature to perfect comfort for his darling. Alex had no need of clothing. If he ever allowed a visitor to come here, he would bring something to wear and perhaps even a veil for Alex's lovely face. He wasn't sure if he would ever want another to look on his beloved as he did.

Weary still, and struggling to let go of the tensions of his day, Walter wasn't quite ready to make love. He walked to the vanity to pick up one of Alex's hairbrushes. He sighed with happiness as he walked back to the lushly appointed bed. This always relaxed him.

As Alex's glory tumbled down his back, Walter growled. The hair was blunted. It stopped at the small of Alex's back. It had been desecrated.

"How did you do it?" Walter asked. "What did you use?"

Alex was breathing hard. His eyes were huge and growing liquid with frightened tears.

"Give it to me," Walter said. "Now!"

Alex knelt, reached under the bed and brought forth a shard of glass. The fragment was carefully wrapped in a hand towel that was tied with one of Walter's shoelaces that he had noticed was missing after his evening visit.

"You know I love your hair," Walter said sternly.

"It was only an inch or two, master," Alex said. "The ends were ragged and it was so hard to keep it clean."

"I don't care to be called 'master'," Walter said. "What did I tell you to call me?"

"Beloved," Alex said, an edge of defiance in his voice.

"I don't want to have to punish you, beautiful," Walter said. "Modify your tone."

Alex's eyes grew wide again. Walter could tell he was frightened and had to fight back the urge to react to the slight gasp and the tremble of the tender mouth. Alex was so lovely when he was hurt or scared. It always woke some predatory instinct in Walter, a feeling that he found discomforting. He took pride in his control, his ability to suppress the beast within. Walter didn't like himself when he was angry.

OooOooO

It was not that Alex wasn't grateful. He was alive, he had his arm back, and truly the world had hurt him enough that he could accept being kept like a fairy tale princess in this place. It wasn't the sex that he resented either. Walter was a good lover and he had a great body.

It was the thought of playing this role forever that made Alex dream of escaping.

And the hair.

It seemed like a harmless kink at first, but as the hair grew, cascading down his body like a silken cloak, Alex found it a burden. His hair had never grown so quickly. Walter must have ordered the aliens to change that as well. It was not welcome like the restoration of his arm.

Alex had thought he could wind Walter Skinner around his finger once he realized the man desired him.

Ha, the man was implacable. He was quite mad. And Walter loved to comb Alex's hair, loved to make him ride his cock, the luxuriant locks raining around them except for the long tresses gripped in Walter's hands.

No matter how exotic Alex became...no matter how totally he let the man have him, Walter would not let him cut his hair.

And now, Alex was going to be punished. He wouldn't show his fear, but he was terrified. He had been beaten, abused, left to die in a silo, and tortured by the elders who had owned him. They had broken him, but he always remolded himself. Now, he wondered if he had anything left. He was weary, so weary, and if Walter would just let him be himself, he would have gladly given him everything.

Walter looked both angry and mournful. The shit. Alex hated the ones that pretended it hurt them.

"Get it over with," Alex snarled. "Spank me or whip me or get out your electric shocks."

"I don't think that would make you understand," Walter said. He shook his head and said, "I just want you to be beautiful as you can be. I don't want to hurt you. I want to love you."

"Then let me go free," Alex said. "Let me chose for once in my life." He said the words softly, quietly defiant, not daring to hope that Walter would listen to him.

Walter's touch on his face was feather light, soft, warm, large hand, promising safety and harbor.

Almost, Alex was willing to give it up, surrender his last citadel of self.

Almost.

Walter sighed and said, "Why don't you think about it? I'll give you some time alone."

Now, Alex shuddered as he struggled with his pride. He said, "You too chicken shit to really punish me? What is this? A fucking time out?"

Walter's only answer was a chilling smile.

"You going to leave me here to rot?" Alex asked. "You been reading Spender's book?"

"You will have everything you need and I have made arrangements to set you free should anything happen to me," Walter said. "Why is it so hard to let me love you?"

OooOooO

At first, Alex thought he was lucky. He had books, a sound system, even a TV with cable. The small kitchen was well stocked if you didn't mind not having knives to use. Walter always brought meat that had been cut into bite-sized chunks. Plastic knives served for the rest.

On day one, Alex didn't shower. He thought about finding a way to cut off the rest of his hair, but the idea of further provoking Walter didn't appeal to him.

The second day, Alex enacted the tempest, reading all the parts. He should have been an actor.

On the third day, Alex scrubbed himself clean, brushed out his hair, and prepared as if Walter was sure to show. He was still alone when he went to bed.

OooOooO

How long would Walter leave him here? Alex kept losing track of time. He had to turn on the TV to remind himself. It became hard to turn it off. Alex had never watched TV much. At the most, it had been a tool to fog away the feelings after a hated assignment, a way not to think too much when his thoughts would drive him mad. Now, he buried himself in the lives of characters that he would have found laughable a month ago. At times, he even talked to them, wishing he could walk into the screen and touch someone, anyone. He had only thought he was alone before.

The silo had been worse, Alex reminded himself. He had been trapped in the dark, without food or water, without hope. He still had hope, didn't he? He had everything he needed except company. Lying in bed, Alex reviewed everything he knew about isolation...a great deal. He had his college classes in psychology and the more in-depth material from his training. They had tested them during the training, looking to see what their breaking points were, running them through a gamut of physical, psychological, and sexual torture to find their weaknesses. Alex had been a playfield for them. He had withstood more than any pupil since Spender himself. Yet, over the years, his agony had ceased to temper him. He had been eroding for years and now this comfortable prison was driving him past the edge.

OooOooO

Leaving Alex there for a month was more than Walter intended to do. It took a full week to let go of the anger. The second week, Walter found himself in the middle of a complicated hostage situation. It took up most of his time and much too much time to do more than make sure that Alex's needs were met and that he hadn't harmed himself.

Rehashing of the botched situation had marked the third week. Hostages had been killed. Walter wished Mulder had been on it. He would have tossed out the book and found some way to get the women out without harm. The meetings drove Walter nuts. He had neither the time nor patience to reclaim his defiant beloved.

The fourth week Walter had been ill. His ulcer had kicked up and he had collapsed at work. He was glad that he had arranged for the groceries to be delivered to the upper duplex of the house he had bought as a rental. An old dumbwaiter between the levels supplied Alex without giving him an opportunity
to see the deliveryman or escape. Once or twice, Walter almost called Frohike to go and release his captive bird. Each time, he held back. He was going to be out of here soon and he didn't want to go back to an empty life.

OooOooO

Alex thought it was an illusion. He hadn't been out of bed for nearly a day. It seemed to have no point. He had tried to lose himself in sleep, but he kept dreaming of Walter's touch, teasing himself with the memory of his master's gentle touch. Lost in his fantasy, Alex assumed that the hand stroking his hair was his dream lover.

The voice however wasn't saying what Alex wanted.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave you so long. Forgive me," Walter said.

Sitting up, Alex looked at a Walter who seemed paler and thinner than he expected. He reached forward and touched the concerned face before putting his arms around Walter and holding tightly.

"Don't leave me again. I won't cut my hair. I'll be whomever, whatever you want," Alex said. "I'll give you everything, all of me." Alex kept his eyes turned downward, fighting the rage and the hopelessness he felt.

"Shhh," Walter said, "Hush, let me help you take a shower and I'll fix you something to eat. I'm so sorry. There was a major incident at work and then I was ill."

"Doesn't matter. Just hold me," Alex said. He had passed anger long ago. He was beyond forgiving Walter. He was so empty. He needed to be filled, to be loved, to be touched over and over.

Water cascaded around them. Alex leaned against Walter's chest, his face buried in his neck. Passively, he let Walter bathe him, the large hands soothing away the day-old grunge that Alex had been too melancholy to wash away.

"Don't leave me again," Alex said. "Please don't leave me."

"I had no right," Walter said. "I see that now. Alex, I'm going to set you..."

"Please, Walter" Alex begged. "Not now. Love me. That's what I need. I don't want to be alone."

"Alex," Walter said, "Listen to me. I know what I did was very wrong."

Clean, Alex stepped out of the shower and raised his arms to let Walter dry him. The man's touch melted him. His cock was so full that it ached. Wrapping one arm around Walter, Alex kissed him hard and guided his lover's hand down to his erection. "Make love to me. That's what I need now."

A deep groan rumbled from Walter's chest. Alex could feel it erupting from deep inside Walters' belly and up the powerful torso to ripple out of his lips and flutter against Alex's mouth. Alex answered it with a moan of his own. He tugged Walter towards the bed, flinging open the bedside drawer as he passed it to grab the condoms and lube.

"I want you inside me," Alex said. "Now, please."

"Alex, you don't have to..." Walter said.

"Get this right," Alex said. "Listen to me. I want you. I need you."

"Are you sure?" Walter asked.

What was wrong with the man? Few men had refused what Alex offered. What in the hell was wrong with Walter?

"Yes, I am god-dammed sure," Alex growled.

A few moments wrestling on the bed: hands stroking, mouth hungry, tongue teasing, teeth nipping. Walter's finger eased inside, his expression showing his surprise at how ready Alex was.

"I was...dreaming about you," Alex admitted. Yes, tell him. Keep no secrets. Offer him the core of you and hope it would be enough.

Another deep groan. Walter said, "I shouldn't do this. Not after what I did to you."

"It's what I need," Alex said. He fluttered his lashes, gazing coyly up from beneath them. It was an artfulness he had cultured since childhood, rewarded with petting and sweets when he was a boy and with sex as an adult. It still worked on Walter who rolled the condom down on his throbbing erection. Alex smiled, remembering how it felt to tease that vein with his tongue.

Walter put a pillow beneath Alex's hips, raising him. That was good. He wanted to see his lover, to know that Walter was there.

The brief pain of entrance passed swiftly. Alex was filled. He thrust back as hard as he could against Walter's cock, feeling the hot, heavy sacs slap against the sensitive inner surface of his ass. It was good. It was so good. They moved together as lovers do. They knew each other's rhythm. They knew what felt good. Alex had never been with a lover long enough to experience this. He didn't know why people thought new lovers were so wonderful. First times were awkward, out of synch, garnished only by newness and then there were those moments afterward when you didn't know what to do or say.

When Walter made love to Alex, afterwards there were no words. Walter's hands spoke a special language, a tactile song that promised things that Alex couldn't trust himself to take. But now, now he was ready. Walter might betray him. Everyone did, in the end. Even his mother did. Dying was a betrayal most hurtful of them all. The fear that he would not be able to accept the love of a good man. That was terror too. As long as the world treated you like shit, you could believe it wasn't some deep, inner flaw, an evil that Mulder, with his instincts and intuition, knew on sight. He was ready to take the risk. Either risk. Any chance. Oh God, he wanted a life like other people had.

OooOooO

Walter was staring at him, looking worried. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Alex said. "It just sent me for a moment. Move. Move in me."

So obedient a master. Now Walter regained the right pattern, so deep inside him, making Alex feel as if his lover inside and out surrounded him. Nerves fired with pleasure. Their eyes met and wonder of wonders, neither looked away. They were open to each other. Letting each other into their souls. As Walter's thrusts became urgent, Alex felt the struggle to stay with him. So easy to forget and lose yourself in your own pleasure. But neither of them did. They were here, together. They traveled, together. They exploded together...

Ah, so bitter to fall apart. So bitter to separate into two bodies, two souls...

Hands tending to him. Walter had bought a cloth. He was such an organized man. This was a softer joy, to be held, to rest pleasure-weak flesh against a lover. Ah, so good, to remain. To not feel the urge to flee.

"Sleep here with me," Alex said. "Spend the night with me. Don't leave."

"Yes," Walter said, "Yes."

OooOooO

Morning, slower lovemaking, duel harmony of tongues and mouths open to each other. They showered together. Alex felt a slackening of muscle, miniscule, but it was there like a Braille of flesh to his blindly knowing hands. Walter had lost weight.

"You were very ill," Alex said.

"Yes, I was," Walter said, "I didn't lie to you."

"I saw the hostage situation on the news," Alex said. "I wondered if you were involved."

"Sitting on the sidelines," Walter said, with a grimace. "I could have handled it better. Mulder would have found a way."

"Yeah, you would have figured out a way that got you a commendation. Mulder would have figured out a way that got him suspended for a few days," Alex said. "I could have helped. I could have been a good agent."

"I know," Walter said. "I know that."

"I wish it could have been different," Alex said. He lifted his hair, still damp from the shower. "Would you like to brush my hair?"

"Yes, Alex," Walter said, his voice sounding odd.

"I won't cut it again," Alex said.

"You won't have to cut it," Walter said.

God, that sounded so final. It took every discipline to turn to sit on a stool as Walter stood behind him. Alex arched back as Walter lifted the heavy tresses and buried his face in them.

"So beautiful," Walter said. He took the brush, soothing out the tangles, the touch reaching inside a place inside Alex that needed the connection. His touch was deft, tender.

"I made this like chains to you," Walter said, holding handfuls of Alex's hair.

"It's all right," Alex said, "I understand."

"No, it was not. I thought you owed me something. I thought it was okay because of who you were. I was like a kid that wanted something and thought it was okay to steal it because of my desire. You deserved more than that," Walter said.

The click of metal frightened Alex. He held still, panic subsiding to a lifetime of discipline. His left arm ached, his memory tormenting him with the loss of his original limb. Walter had given him back his wholeness. He could take it back.

It was only scissors. Walter snipped through a thick hank of hair and another. The locks fell to the floor and lay like autumn leaves, life gone.

What did Walter mean by this? Alex held still, the burden of the hair eased, snip by snip. He wasn't glad. He wasn't ready.

It took more than an hour. Walter guided him to a mirror and said, "It's not a professional job, but it will do until you can get to a barber."

Alex hardly recognized his face without the glory of his hair. He looked thinner, older without it. He touched the hair that was left and sighed. He didn't like it.

Walter's hands guided him around. Walter stared in his eyes. His eyes were bright with tears. He reached in his pocket and handed Alex keys.

"You can stay as long as you want to stay, but you are free to go. Alex, go find out who you want to be. If you ever...if you want me, I'll be waiting. I love you. Be happy."

Walter's kiss on his cheek and his forehead was not enough. Alex drew Walter's lips to his. He didn't want to leave, but this was a gift that no one had every offered. He couldn't refuse it.

OooOooO

It was not that Walter had expected to hear from him. Yet he had hoped, however foolish the hope. The weeks went by and the months. He was not alone, not really. He had friends: Mulder, Scully, and Kim. He had walled them away before. Yet Walter found when he set his beautiful captive free, that he had broken through the walls and chains of his own life. He was free too, but he grieved. How he mourned...

Walter had abandoned his apartment. He had rented the lower part of the duplex to a young woman, her two children, and her big yellow dog. He lived upstairs, sleeping in the bed he had bought for Alex. He had collected the long hair that he had cut in a plastic bag. He couldn't bring himself to throw it away, but yesterday, he had lovingly built a fire, letting the hair burn, the stench of it acrid in the air. The smoke drifted upward, going where it willed. Like Alex.

Today, Walter worked in the garden. The kids wanted to have pumpkins and carrots. Walter was willing. It felt good to work in the sun. He had shed his shirt in the heat of this spring day. He tilled the soil to get it ready for new growth. He was ready himself for some new thing. He woke feeling happy, as if the scent of joy was traveling his way. Maybe it was just letting go...

"You said I could come back when I was ready," the voice said.

Walter didn't dare look up. He was kneeling in the garden, planting the seeds. He poked a pumpkin seed deep in to the pile of earth before slowly seeing if it was true.

"I took your gift; I was free," Alex said, indicating his waist length hair. "When my hair had grown long again, I knew it was time to come back to you. I was free and, freely, I return to you."

"I'm the one that owed you," Walter said, getting slowly to his feet and dusting his hands against his worn jeans.

"You look good," Alex said, "I was worried that you wouldn't take care of yourself."

"Yeah, I decided to slow down," Walter said. "I took my retirement. The world can get on without me."

"Is there room for me in this new life?" Alex asked.

Walter took Alex's hands and might have held them forever, but the seeds were ready to be planted. "I was hoping you would come back."

"Meanwhile, you were planting a garden," Alex said.

Alex answered. He knelt and took a packet of seeds, laughing a little when he saw they were sunflower seeds. "For Mulder?" he asked.

"Yes," Walter said. "I thought he might like to see where they come from. You know Mulder. Probably thinks they grow in plastic bags."

"Sunflowers are beautiful," Alex said.

'Not as beautiful as you, Alex,' Walter thought, but he turned his attention to the garden and planted another seed.

They say that gardens flourish in the home where love lives. It might have been true for the garden of Walter's house exploded with growth. The sunflowers lifted their head toward the sun and the pumpkins stretched toward the grass, growing ripe and beautiful.

In the balcony above the garden, Walter would stand and brush Alex's long hair.

And they lived happily ever after.
 

The end.
 
 
 
 

Ursula's Stories

Peach's Birthday Stories