A Day in the Life, by Alicia and Te

Rated NC-17 for smut and appalling jokes.

Disclaimer:  These guys ain't ours.  Got that, CC?  We're 
clear about this.  Don't worry.  You keep cashing those 
checks and we'll just sit here at the keyboard.  'kay?

Further disclaimer:  This is slash; go 'way if you can't 
deal with that.  Moreover, this is Pure Fluff slash, to the 
point that in this particular universe safesex is Not An 
Issue.  (Anyone unclear on how important safesex is In Real 
Life should go buy him- or herself a clue.)  Extra helpings 
of Willing Suspension of Disbelief are available at the 
door for those who require them.

Feedback (please!) to azrkruzhol@aol.com and 
Daddy793@aol.com

For DarkBrat, with wuv.

*****


A Day in the Life, by Alicia and Te


On Alex Krycek's first day at the FBI Academy, he met two 
people who would have a profound impact on the rest of his 
life.  One of them was Davis Williams, who saw in Special-
Agent-in-Training Krycek the makings of either a player or 
a tool.  Either could be useful to him, and he resolved to 
watch the young man closely.  The other was Brian Pendrell, 
who saw Alex's green eyes and flawless mouth from across 
the room and determined then and there that he'd have those 
eyes looking up at him from a very intimate position before 
he graduated from Quantico, or die trying.

Alex, of course, was unaware of both these events.

The ultimate results of Williams's appraisal of young Alex 
Krycek have yet to be determined.  But the effects of Brian 
Pendrell's decision became clear almost immediately.

After classes ended that September day, Brian walked alone 
back to his room.  He was glad for the temporary solitude, 
because he needed time to finish planning his attack.  
There could be no missteps, no neglected details.  Brian 
knew that mouth wouldn't go unnoticed.  He'd already seen 
several of the other SAITs surreptitiously glancing at the 
tall, dark-haired Adonis in their midst.  If Brian meant to 
beat the rest of them to the punch--and he did--he would 
have to act swiftly and flawlessly.  Fortunately, Brian 
knew that while he might not be as physically prepossessing 
as, say, Vance Doughtie, with his beach volleyball 
physique, he had one advantage none of the other recruits 
could hope to approach.

He was Alex's roommate.

Brian smiled as he walked thoughtfully but swiftly toward 
the dormitory.

During his college years, Brian had dated a lot.  Given his 
generous spirit and all-around good temper, it wasn't 
surprising that he had remained friendly with virtually all 
of his former lovers.  Aside from making for an 
excruciatingly long Christmas card list, this fact was 
quite useful.  Many of those former lovers were older than 
Brian and now held positions in a number of handy places.  
Brian never had trouble getting tickets to the theatre, 
getting into the best restaurants without reservations--or, 
more recently, getting a password that would grant him 
access to the lower security levels of the FBI database.  
Like the ones that dealt with housing for the SAITs.

So, during their lunch break that first day, Brian had 
politely excused himself and gone back to his room.  When 
he returned for his afternoon classes, the room that had 
previously been assigned to Alex Krycek and Dean Farrar had 
suddenly been scheduled for immediate renovation.  SAIT 
Farrar had been moved to a vacant room nearby, and Alex 
Krycek . . . well, Alex Krycek would now be sharing Brian's 
formerly-lonely quarters.

Brian felt only the slightest twinge of conscience at this 
subterfuge.  After all, some people were blessed with 
exceptional wealth, or looks.  Brian's assets were his 
lightning mind and the personality that made him quickly 
indispensable to virtually everyone he met.  Those were the 
talents he had to work with, and Mama Pendrell had taught 
her boy not to hide his light under a bushel.

And his arrangements hurt no-one.  The room would have been 
renovated soon anyway.  Farrar would now have the benefit 
of a room to himself, increasing his own opportunities to 
entertain if he so chose.  And as for sweet-faced Alex 
Krycek--Brian was going to make sure he wouldn't regret the 
move in the least.

*****

Brian thoroughly enjoyed his dinner with his old friend 
Charlie Ream.  They talked about old times, and reviewed 
Brian's plans for the rest of the evening.

When Brian and Charlie strolled back to the dorms, both did 
a creditable job of acting surprised at Alex's presence in 
the room.  "I . . . I'm sorry, Brian," Alex stammered, a 
bit thrown off by Charlie's nonchalantly possessive 
demeanor toward the redhead.  "There was some kind of 
administrative screw-up, and they've got workmen redoing 
all the plumbing in the room I was supposed to have.  They 
said they'd let you know . . ."

"Oh, that's all right, Alex," Brian replied with just a 
hint of a wistful glance at Charlie.  "I'll be glad to have 
the company."  This with his most ingenuous make-the-best-
of-it smile.  "Let me just say goodbye to Charlie, and then 
you and I can settle down for the night."

For his part, Charlie played the disappointed suitor to a 
T, glancing at Alex through narrowed eyes as he and 
Pendrell hugged farewell.  As they embraced, Charlie 
whispered "What a knockout!  Go get 'im, tiger!" in Brian's 
ear, and Brian quickly turned his face away from Alex until 
he could get his grin under control.

Alex sat on the bed that would be his for the next 15 weeks 
and tried not to watch the two affectionate men.  He hadn't 
been able to avoid noticing Pendrell's erection (the 
catalyst for which he naturally misinterpreted), and was 
uncomfortably aroused by the whole situation.  He was 
tremendously relieved when Pendrell locked the door behind 
his visitor, turned, and said "I'm going to take a shower 
before bed.  Hope that won't keep you up."

Overwhelmingly grateful for this chance at a few minutes' 
privacy, Alex replied, "No, no problem.  I was going to 
read for a while anyway, if you don't mind."

Brian disappeared into the bathroom, and the sounds of 
running water soon filled the tiny dorm room.

Alex knew this would be his only chance to relieve his own 
arousal in private, and quickly unzipped his pants, 
trusting Pendrell would be in the shower long enough for 
him to finish unnoticed.

He was just finding his rhythm when a voice emerged from 
the bathroom.

"Alex?  Can you hear me?  I forgot my shampoo.  Can you get 
it for me?"

Alex looked in panic at his throbbing cock.

"Alex?  It's in my suitcase at the foot of my bed.  Can you 
find it, or should I come and look for it?"

"No!  I mean . . . uh . . ."  Fumbling at his pants, Alex 
hopped toward the suitcase.  "I'll get it.  Don't trouble 
yourself . . . no trouble . . . it's right here . . . ."

Brian had to lean against the shower wall to keep from 
doubling over with laughter.

Alex stumbled into the steamy bathroom, shampoo in hand.  
Brian reached out a soapy hand at waist-level . . . and 
discovered his plan was working even better than he'd 
hoped.

In his rush to get the shampoo, Alex had neglected to zip 
up his pants.

"Oops!  I'm sorry!" Brian said, poking his head around the 
shower curtain but somehow failing to remove his hand from 
the not-shampoo-bottle it had found.

He looked into Alex's eyes, now slightly glazed over with a 
combination of lust and sheer terror.

Then Alex flung the shampoo at him and raced for the door.

Brian thoroughly enjoyed the rest of his shower.  He now 
had something concrete to fantasize about, and in this case 
truth was definitely more interesting than fiction.  He 
didn't dawdle, though.  It wouldn't do to give Alex too 
much time alone . . . .

When Brian exited the bathroom, toweling his hair dry, he 
found the sleeping area in darkness, but for a dim light 
thoughtfully left on next to his bed.  Alex lay on his 
back, apparently asleep, but Brian noticed the tent in the 
blankets and smiled to himself.

Quietly, Brian got into bed and turned off the light.  He 
lay in the dark, deliberately slowing his breathing.  And 
listening.

Sure enough, a few minutes after Brian was safely "asleep," 
he heard a rustle of movement from the other side of the 
room and, shortly thereafter, the faint sound of stifled 
gasps.

Brian listened until the noises began to take on a hint of 
urgency, then crept out of his bed and moved stealthily 
over to the other.  He needn't have taken the trouble.  
Alex was in a world of his own.

"Need a hand with that?" Brian asked quietly, his eyes wide 
and appreciative in the dim light coming through the 
window.

Not waiting for an answer, he folded the covers back and 
knelt on the bed between his chosen conquest's legs.  "Or 
maybe not a hand."  With no preliminaries but a great deal 
of skill, he took Alex into his mouth and down his throat 
to the hilt.

Alex quickly progressed from being too startled to speak, 
to too confused, to too pleased.  Pendrell was a virtuoso, 
tonguing him like a flute, hands playing over his balls and 
ass with the delicacy of a harpist.  Some dim part of 
Alex's currently overtaxed and oxygen-deprived brain was 
deeply confused by all the musical references running 
through his head until he realized he was helplessly 
humming some unidentified classical work--a concert that 
(in all too short a time) ended with the explosions and 
fanfares of the 1812 Overture.
 
As Alex slowly regained control of his faculties, he 
quickly ran through his options.  Pretend this hadn't 
happened:  well, *that* would require a lot more than the 
willing suspension of disbelief.  Recoil in horror from 
what he now realized must have been a setup from minute 
one:  possible, but highly unappealing.  He soon decided 
that the only sensible course of action (and Alex was 
nothing if not sensible) was to thank any deities that 
might be listening and do everything in his power to sign 
this Boy Wonder to a long-term contract.

"Ah . . . Brian . . . I don't know what to say," he 
whispered to the man now lying next to him on the narrow 
bed.  "That was . . . uh . . . wow--is there something I 
can do for you?"

A grin worthy of the Cheshire cat lit the darkness as Brian 
replied, "Oh, I'm sure I can think of something."

Swollen lips finally met the mouth that had launched this 
particular ship, and in the ensuing melee very little was 
said for quite some time.

Eventually . . . .

"Oh . . . God . . . Brian--do you . . ."

"Yes--"

". . . have anything . . ."

"Yes . . . in my nightstand drawer . . . the jar with the--
"

"I'll find it."  The room was small enough that little 
physical separation was required in order for Alex to reach 
the drawer, which was fortunate because at that point the 
two men were very likely incapable of fully disentangling 
their limbs.

"It's . . . oh . . . the one with--"

"I've got it."  Alex returned to the task he had been 
pursuing with such singleminded devotion, hesitating only 
long enough to twist the top off the jar and plunge his 
fingers deep into the viscous goo.  Not as good as 
Astroglide, but it would have to do.  Brian was ready and 
waiting, and Alex took only a second to spread the stuff 
thickly over his cock before fitting himself to the 
welcoming notch and beginning to rock his way inside.

Brian was unusually tight, or Alex was unusually large, and 
the docking procedure took a bit of time, but eventually 
they were locked together, Alex's balls flush against 
Brian's buttocks.  One or both of the men moaned their 
pleasure, and Alex drew back to begin thrusting more 
vigorously.

Tried to draw back.

"Brian?"

"Ohhh . . . Yes? . . . Alex!"

"I'm . . ."

"Oh yeah, baby!"

"I'm . . ."

"Mmm . . . give it to me, handsome!"

"I'm . . . stuck."

Frozen silence.  A bit of a struggle, but no discernible 
change in position.

"Alex?  Alex, which jar did you . . . .  Alex, can you 
reach the light?"

"Uh--I think so . . . yes, there."

More silence as two pairs of eyes turned to the jar sitting 
open on the floor by the bed.  Then a duet of pained 
groans.

"Uh . . . Brian, do you *always* keep Marshmallow Fluff in 
your nightstand?"

*****