Category:  K/P slash
Rating:  NC-17
Archive:  With permission only, thank you.
Spoilers:  None.  Take place within "Comeuppance" universe.

WARNING:  Some consensual kinkiness. Nothing to call the Vice Squad about,
but if oil & silk ties bother you, please run away.

Feedback:  I LOVE to hear some. As always. :-)

THE BET
by DBKate
dbkate@yahoo.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was yet another Friday night at the local FBI hangout, and Alex Krycek
popped another pretzel in his mouth with a bored air.  He glanced over at his
partner and lover, Brian Pendrell who was ordering them drinks at the bar,
and then back to the football game that was blaring over the bar's five
television sets.  

It was the Redskins versus the Jets.

Yeah, *that's* some match-up, he thought with a grimace.  He smiled at Brian
as he returned from the bar with two beers and climbed up on the stool next
to Krycek.  They sat in amiable silence for a few moments, until the Redskins
got yet another touchdown and the bar exploded with cheers.

"Hmmph.  So, who do -you- think's going to win, Bri?" asked Krycek, grabbing
another pretzel and popping it in his mouth. 

Pendrell looked at him innocently.  "Oh, me?  I haven't a clue."

Krycek raised an eyebrow at him.  "Not a clue?"

"No.  I don't watch football really." replied Pendrell.  "I wouldn't even
hazard a guess."

Alex stared at him curiously.  "Really?  Not interested in the slightest?"

Brian shook his head.  "No.  I was never that much into sports.  I watch the
World Series, but that's about it."

//So that's about it//, Krycek thought, as a delightfully wicked idea
suddenly entered his brain.  Perhaps, if he played it right, he could
convince his lover to make a small wager with him.  A wager that would
involve not money, but a night of complete surrender and submission to all of
one Alexander Krycek's depraved, yet adoring, demands.  

The mental image of a writhing, moaning lover underneath him, succumbing to
his every evil whim and desire warmed him considerably.	He thought dreamily
of an entire evening  filled with silk ties and patchouli oil, feathers and
handcuffs, even a few spoonfuls of strawberry jelly strategically placed in
some -interesting- spots.

Hmm, he thought.  Now -that- was a bet you couldn't get in Vegas.

He turned and smiled sweetly at Brian.  "Say, sweetheart.  You wouldn't care
to make a little wager on the game, would you?"

Pendrell's expression turned thoughtful.  "Well, I really don't gamble very
much, Alex."

"Oh, not for money," said Krycek casually.  "For something a little more, um,
interesting."

Pendrell raised an eyebrow.  "Such as?"

Krycek's grin grew wider, and his eyes glittered gleefully.  "Sex.  The loser
submits to one night of complete abandon to the whims and desires of the
winner.  As soon as the game ends, we go home, and its winner take all."

"Wow," replied Pendrell, grinning as well.  "That's quite a bet.  But I
really don't see how either of us can lose."

"Exactly," said Krycek sweetly, wondering how long it would take for the game
to end.

"Okay," replied Pendrell cheerfully.  "I'm in.  Well, which team do you
want?"

"Oh, well," said Krycek, carefully.  He was going to make *sure* he got the
Redskins no matter what.  With the Jets at zero and nine, it was pretty much
a given that Brian would be spread eagled on their bed and screaming in less
than two hours flat.  

But he mustn't be too obvious.  "How about we go by colors?  I know you like
green," he said deviously.

Pendrell peered at the TV screen.  "Hmm.  The team in green is New York,
right?"

Krycek winced.  Maybe even Brian had heard how rotten the Jets had been
doing.  "Yes, that's the New York Jets, but don't let that fool..."

"Okay," agreed Brian readily.  "I'll take them."

Krycek breathed a sigh of relief.  "Wonderful.  And, I'll...uh...take the
team in red.	That's the Washington Redskins."

"Fine.  Then it's a bet," said Pendrell, holding out his hand. "Shake?"

"Shake," grinned Krycek, firmly grasping Pendrell's hand and laughing
heartily up his sleeve.

Oh, boy, this was going to be one FUN night.

~~~~~~~~~

An hour and a half later, it appeared that things weren't looking too good
for the mighty Washington Redskins.

"Hey, look," said Brian happily, pointing at the flickering TV screen.  "My
team got another goal."

"That's called a "touchdown" Brian," Alex muttered.  This was -not- going as
planned.  But there was still another nine minutes.  Nine minutes.  That was
plenty of time.  

Wasn't it?

Pendrell took another swig of his beer and smiled.  "Oh, boy.  It's not
looking too good for your team, Alex.  Are you sure you don't want to call
off the bet?"

Krycek's mouth set in a firm line.  "Absolutely not."

"Okay," Pendrell smiled.  There was a loud groan in the bar and he pointed at
the television screen again. "Oooh, say, Alex.  I think your team just
dropped the ball again.	And hey!  The guys in green just picked it up!  That
means they have the ball now, right?"

Alex moaned and buried his head in his arms.  This was not happening.  This
could NOT be happening.  These were the *Redskins*, for God's sake!  And for
the Redskins to be beaten by the JETS, the zero and nine, pathetic beyond all
belief, JETS, was beyond all comprehension.

"Hmmm," said Pendrell, shaking his head sadly.  "I think your team looks a
bit depressed on their bench over there."

They aren't the only ones, thought Krycek miserably.  Oh, the best laid plans
of mice and men, he grumbled inwardly.

"Oh, hey!" yelled Pendrell happily.  "Look at that...a hole in one!"

Krycek groaned again.

~~~~~~~

Krycek was silent the entire ride home.  He certainly hadn't planned the
evening to go this way, and now had no idea what he was in store for.  In all
the time he'd been with Brian, he'd always been the initiator when it came to
their more -unusual- activities.

The car came to a stop in front of their apartment and Brian turned to him
with a kind smile.  "Last chance, beautiful.  I'm willing to call off the bet
if you want to."

Krycek's expression turned stubborn.  "Absolutely not," he insisted.  "A
bet's a bet."

"Okay," grinned Brian.  "But Alex, I'm warning you. I'm not going to go easy
on you."

Krycek gulped.  What did -that- mean?  But before he could ask, he felt a
hand slip under his chin and Brian's lips were against his, obliterating all
thought.  A tongue plunged inside his mouth and soon, Krycek felt that Brian
could do just about anything he wanted to, and he'd still be a happy man.

The lips pulled away, and Alex ached from their loss.  He heard a whisper in
his ear. "Come on inside, beautiful."

Krycek got out of the car and quietly followed Brian into their apartment,
his heart thudding.  When they entered the door, Alex stood in the living
room, his pulse racing.

"Well, um, well, what would you...uh," stuttered Krycek, not sure why he was
so nervous.

But Pendrell appeared completely unfazed.  He gathered Krycek close, holding
him tightly around the waist, his face so close that their lips brushed as he
spoke.  "The first thing I'd like you to do is be quiet, Alex. Not a word,
unless you want me to stop.  And if you do want me to stop, at any point, for
any reason, I want you to say "Hippos."

At this, Alex had to laugh.  "Hippos?"

Pendrell smiled back.  "Yep.  *Hippos*.  That's our safe word.  I think that
should be jarring enough to get us to stop whatever we're doing.  Okay, love?
But that's the only word that's going to work.  "No," "stop," "please," --
those are all getting ignored.  Got it?"

Krycek felt a shiver roll down his spine.  "Got it."

God, maybe Brian had done this before.  Krycek felt an odd tingle of jealousy
creep through him, mixing with the shivers of desire.

"I want you to stand in the middle of the living room and stay there until I
come back," said Pendrell casually, as he took off toward the kitchen.  "You
can take off your jacket, but nothing else."

Krycek did as he was told, the emotions within him beginning to churn.
Anticipation, arousal, curiosity, that nagging jealousy...and a slight tingle
of fear.  He stripped off his suit jacket, put it over a chair, and waited in
the dimly lit living room.  

And waited.

And just when the anticipation became almost unbearable, Brian came back,
with two candles, a small bottle and a book of matches.  He turned off the
lights, and lit both candles, placing them on the mantlepiece.  He motioned
for Alex to stand in front of the sofa and face him, as he pulled out a chair
from his desk and placed it in the middle of the room. 

Slowly, Pendrell sat, straddling the chair as Alex stood before him, blushing
unaccountably, shifting from foot to foot; fidgeting.  The music of Nina
Simone floated out softly over the stereo and the candlelight was all that
lit the room, casting flickering yellow and red shadows over the walls,
warming the air, scenting it with vanilla and jasmine.

Brian gave him a tiny nod.  "Alex. Take off your tie and give it to me."

Krycek did as he was told, fingering the knot at his neck and sliding the
silk through his collar.  He handed it to his lover, who casually folded it
and placed on the coffee table beside him.

"Take off your holster," was the next order, and Krycek unsnapped the metal
and slowly slid the leather off from his shoulder and waist.  He handed the
holster, including his firearm, to Brian, who carefully placed it next to his
discarded tie.

Another order...same even tone.  "Shoes."

Alex nudged the first one off and then the other, pushing them both aside.
The socks, and then the dress shirt were the next to go, along with his
undershirt.  He removed each item slowly, carefully, noticing that Brian's
eyes never left him, even for a second.

Krycek felt himself blush harder, and the heat in face spread down his neck,
then crept up his cheeks, reddening his ears.  He had undressed dozens of
times in front of this man, but never had been viewed so closely; never
before been examined and scrutinized so carefully while he'd done so.

A soft whisper.  "Pants."

Trying to go for a bit of panache, Krycek grinned tightly as he unzipped them
and wriggled out of them off with showy aplomb.  When they were off, he
dangled them rakishly in front of Brian, trying to get him to smile, but his
lover's expression didn't change.

It remained placid...utterly indifferent.  "Fold them neatly," came the calm
reply.  "And place them next to your gun."

Krycek's cock began to throb uncomfortably, the erection clearly showing
through his jockey shorts.  He did as he was told and stepped back to the
middle of the room.

Brian rose slowly, almost ominously, from the chair he'd been straddling.  He
picked the silk tie up from the table.  "Sit on the couch, Alex."

Krycek obeyed, and suddenly felt more naked then he'd ever had in his life,
with this fully dressed man looming above him, as he sat dressed only in his
underwear, the sofa leather soft against his thighs and back.  He shivered,
even though the room  was quite warm.

"Hold your wrists out in front of you," said Brian softly, the tie sliding
casually between his fingers, his expression still an infuriatingly arousing
mixture of raw lust and utter indifference.

Alex's heart began to pound.  But he did as he was told.

The tie was looped thin end first around his right wrist, then double-backed
over his left.  The coils weren't particularly tight, but they were
impossibly efficient.  After a moment, Krycek realized that he couldn't have
gotten out of that tie, anymore than he could have slipped out of a
regulation pair of handcuffs.  He vaguely thought that Pendrell must have
earned his Boy Scout merit badge in knot tying in about ten seconds flat.

The whisper in his ear sounded pleased.  "Good boy.  I'm going to pull off
your underwear now, and after I do that, I want you to show me something."

Krycek's breathing became raw...hoarse, as he felt two thumbs hook the
waistband of his underwear and slowly slid it over his cock and down his
legs.  Pendrell's body was so close to his, that Krycek could smell his
cologne, his shampoo, even the laundry soap of his shirt.  He was rock hard
and dripping by now, and gave a small moan as he lifted his hips from the
couch, trying to initiate some...any contact with his lover's body,  but
Pendrell quickly stood up and walked away, back to the table.

He picked up the bottle from the table and Krycek instantly recognized the
patchouli oil that he himself had purchased, but with far different intent.

"Hold out your hands," came the order.  "And cup them."

Humbly, Krycek held out his bound hands, cupped them and felt the fragrant
oil poured into them.  Tiny drops fell from between his fingers and rolled
down his stomach and legs. The smell was intense -- incredibly sweet and
spicy.

Brian leaned close, and Krycek felt the tickle of warm breath in his ear, and
a tiny kiss trace his earlobe.  "I want to watch you masturbate, Alex.  I
want you to do it for me, and I want you tell me what you're thinking of
while you do it."

Krycek's eyes widened.  He'd done quite a few things , but jerking off while
someone was watching had never been one of them.  He felt the blush return,
furiously this time, and his breath came in short gasps.  "But...I..." he
stumbled.

"And one more thing, Alex.  You are *not* to come, under any circumstances.
Is that clear?  If you think you are, I want you to tell me."

Krycek groaned again.  "But, Brian..."

"Say the word then, love.  Say it, and we'll stop."

Krycek shook his head.  He didn't want to stop, but this -- he couldn't
possibly...but...

He reached down and took his cock between his bound hands, the oil dripping
down its hard length, rolling between his legs.  Stared at his lover, who
only smiled kindly in return and Krycek watched as he walked back to his
chair, straddling it once more, observing intently.

Krycek took a deep shuddering breath and closed his eyes.  His head lolled
back against the sofa and he began to stroke, his legs widening
unconsciously.  He began as he always did, teasing the underside, ignoring
the crown, but was forced to improvise with both hands as they were bound
together, the knots getting slightly tighter with each stroke -- each pull.  

"Talk to me," came the order, from somewhere in front of him.  "Tell me what
you're thinking."

Oh, yes.  I have to talk, Krycek thought vaguely, the sensations from his
cock crawling up his belly and down his legs, in rolling, aching waves of
desire.   "I'm thinking ...about...about the time we were in the country."

"What did we do there, Alex?"

Oh, God, what didn't we do there, thought Krycek, his cock jumping at the
memory.  Everything was getting tighter, the muscles in groin, his balls, the
silk around his wrists -- all of it pulling at him, taking his control away.
He shut his eyes harder and kept going.  

"The first night we were there.  We...we, oh, had the fire going.  And you
had taken your shower already and were lying there reading...on...on the
carpet.  It was one of those small rugs.  It was incredibly soft and warm and
you were..."

Softly.  "What, Alex?"

Another stroke, this time taking in the crown.  "You were naked.  And you
were...were..."

"I was what, Alex?"

A soft moan.  "Beautiful.  Fucking beautiful."  

A slight, breathless, chuckle in response.  "And then?  What happened next?"

Krycek groaned, loudly this time, stroking harder; faster, the knots around
his wrists becoming almost painfully tight, his cock huge and achingly hot
with the oil and friction.   "I took that goddamn book out of your hands," he
gasped. "And I turned you over.  I didn't even wait...I couldn't wait.  I
wanted you...goddamn it.  I never wanted anything so badly in my life."

The room around him started to disappear as he became lost in the heat and
desire, his hips rising from the sofa of their own accord, pushing his cock
through his hands and he continued to speak, lost in a memory that had now
become reality revisited.  "I remember shoving myself into you, fucking you,
not even caring...and you were so goddamn perfect, so fucking tight.  You
were pushing  yourself back onto me, making those...god...making those noises
you make.  You've never heard them, but god...they are incredible.   And
then...and, oh...god...then..."

He was so close now.  He vaguely remembered Brian's order of not to come, no,
not to come under any circumstances...but...

Krycek suddenly felt his bound hands yanked away from his cock.  The soft
voice once again in his ear.  "You're not going to come, are you, Alex?"

Krycek groaned loudly, beseechingly.  "Yes.  Please, yes.  Don't make me
stop.  Please, Brian."   He opened his eyes and stared pitifully into the
huge blue ones that loomed over his own.  "Please...I can't..."

"Sorry, Alex," replied his lover softly.  "If you come, you'll have to get
punished."

Krycek was about to reply that he'd accept any punishment that Brian would
give him, if only he could just finish, but stopped as he felt a hand sneak
between his legs and softly stroke his cock.  He gasped, and began to writhe
upwards, pushing into the hand, and nearly laughed with relief.

"Now," said Brian kindly, fondling his cock expertly, with long, neat strokes
as Krycek gasped happily.  "You don't want make a mess, have me clean you up,
tie you to the bed and spend the night teaching you a lesson, do you?"

Krycek laughed and moaned at the same time.  "Yes.  Yes, I do."

"For shame," Brian reprimanded sternly, but his eyes were smiling.  "I never
thought you'd be so disobedient.  Completely incorrigible."

A long series of quick, hard strokes and Krycek nearly cried out with joy.
"Yes, that's me.  Utterly and completely...and oh, God!" he cried out as he
came, the warm, wet mass covering his chest and belly.  

A sea of relief and happiness washed over Krycek, as the orgasm faded slowly
away.  When he could focus his eyes again, he looked up at Brian, whose eyes
were filled with amusement.  Krycek tried not to smile back, but couldn't
help it.  

Brian's face took on a stern air.  "Well, look at this.  You've made quite a
mess here, Agent Krycek.  What do you have to say for yourself?"

Krycek bit his lip with amusement, and bowed his head.  "I'm sorry, sir.  But
it was those damn Redskins. You see..."

"Flippant, too, I see!" replied Pendrell severely, as he carefully untied
Krycek's wrists. He quickly gave each one a small kiss, before continuing.
"Well, I assume you know what's in store for you now, don't you?"

Krycek nodded, with mock sadness.  "Oh, a night of bondage and mindless
teasing, interspersed with incredible sex?"

"That's right.  A bubble bath as well.  And then, we're going to try out
those -interesting- handcuffs I noticed that you bought behind my back.
Thought you were going to get to use those on *me* did you?" replied
Pendrell, with an amused huff.

Krycek sighed.  "Yep.  Those damn Redskins."

Pendrell pulled up Krycek from the sofa and warmly embraced him.  "Oh come
on.  You knew that their defense was at half effectiveness after the loss of
Atkins.  Besides, once Morgan came off the disabled list, the Jets were able
to double team them all over the place."

Krycek's eyes flew open.  "Excuse me?  I thought that you didn't know
anything about football!"

Pendrell smiled at him.  Wickedly.  "And I don't know anything about
fur-lined handcuffs either.  So get in that damn tub before I start melting
the Hershey Bars and pulling out the grape jelly."

And still gaping...Alex Krycek did as he was told. 

~~~~~~~~~~
THE END?  <g>

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man next to me, who knows where you live.  
dbkate@yahoo.com