Note: This story does not take place in the same canon as other Mulder/Krycek stories I have co-authored with Alien Supersoldier, and is intended to fit within the canon of the show.
2nd Note: I dedicate this story to my best friend and writing partner Alien Supersoldier. This story wouldn't exist without you, and thank you to the moon and back for editing this for me. You're my one in 5 billion. Things are looking up ;)
Ascension, Missing Scene:
"Make sure he gets home safely."
Skinner's gaze had suddenly turned to Krycek. Great. Now Mulder's well-being was his responsibility, too.
No one had said this was going to be easy. In fact, quite the opposite. Alex Krycek had been warned that having Fox Mulder as a special assignment would be difficult, but nothing had prepared him for the real thing. Mulder was enigmatic, flakey, challenging (and not to mention devastatingly attractive, but that was a distraction Krycek couldn't afford). Mulder had even ditched Krycek several times without having given him a reason. But despite any interpersonal conflicts, Krycek had come to respect the man. Like him, even. It didn't seem to be Mulder's fault the cards were stacked against him. Mulder was just trying to find the truth, his truth, and he was punished for being too good at it. Krycek had been hired to throw him off course by gaining his trust, and he had thought, mistakenly, that that would be the easier part. Now that he had had just a glimpse of what being Mulder's partner was like, he almost felt guilty for betraying him. Almost.
He's still an asshole.
"C'mon," Krycek said gently, giving Mulder a small, comforting smile as he opened the door for him.
Mulder looked forlorn, like a little lost puppy, but in losing his battle with Skinner, he followed Krycek out the door, obedient and defeated.
"We'll find her, Mulder." Krycek tried to sound reassuring despite knowing better, and put his hand against Mulder's back as he guided him down the hallway. It was at least a relief that the eyes of the Smoking Man were no longer on him, seemingly calm and disinterested, but in reality scrutinizing. That cocky son-of-a-bitch was always acting like he was omnipresent and all-knowing, as if Krycek weren't a human being with his own private thoughts. But no matter what the Smoking Man thought, Krycek knew he would make a name for himself. He had Fox Mulder under his thumb, and he wasn't about to fuck up this assignment.
Krycek had to admit he was a little glad Scully was almost out of the picture, but he was also a bit conflicted about lying to Mulder's face about it. It was difficult after working so hard to gain Mulder's trust to look him straight in the eye and pretend like he didn't know (and wasn't responsible for) what was going on. Well, playing dumb was relatively easy, but lying to Mulder when he had that look in his eyes did something to a man's gut.
Mulder didn't say a word as they exited the building and walked to the car, and didn't put up a fight as Krycek got behind the wheel. That had been an integral part of their dynamic since day one: fighting for control of the steering wheel. Perhaps it was as metaphorical as it was literal, as each man believed he had some sort of power over the other, even if Krycek's reasons were secret.
Mulder was clearly the older, seasoned agent, and Krycek came across as the inexperienced, people-pleasing sidekick, but he was the one keeping the future of Mulder's work at bay. Krycek alone was the line between the dark forces and the complete destruction of Mulder's career, and Mulder had absolutely no idea. And despite any heat Krycek might've felt about feigning ignorance in the other man's gaze, he couldn't help but be excited by the power he had keeping secrets even the brilliant and eccentric Agent Mulder couldn't sniff out.
Krycek had been both impressed and intimidated by the way Mulder picked up on details in his investigations. Mulder was always remembering little details that others overlooked, making connections and jumping to theories others wouldn't even dream of, let alone believe. He was an absolute force to be reckoned with, and that was what made the challenge so exciting. And at the moment, Krycek had the upper hand.
Krycek eyed Mulder in the rearview mirror. Mulder was staring out the window, his mind clearly thousands of miles away. Should he say something? Maybe turn on the radio?
"You don't have to take me home, you know." Mulder said suddenly, his eyes wandering back and forth, searching, focusing on nothing as he spoke.
"Well, where else would I take you?" Krycek asked, sounding a little more ignorant than he wanted. Despite all the behind-the-scenes power he had, Mulder still had that way of making him feel small, like he was one step behind. He had no idea what went on inside that mysterious fucker's head.
Mulder picked at his lip as if for want of the sunflower seeds Krycek had sometimes seen him chew.
"I don't know," Mulder said finally, leaning his head back on the passenger seat and running his hand through his hair. "I'm not going to sleep anyway."
Krycek set his jaw. He couldn't let Mulder out of his sight with the current plans in motion (too risky). He continued driving without slowing down or altering course.
"You should at least try." Krycek chanced a glance in Mulder's direction.
Mulder pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Of course Skinner had sent him home with a babysitter, Skinner was smart enough to know that Mulder wouldn't follow orders to lay off the investigation. (What had been the point of ordering him to drop it anyway?) They both knew Mulder was the best one for the case. Mulder knew Duane Barry. Mulder was the resident expert on abductions. He didn't need sleep, he needed to find Scully, and precious time was ticking away. Feeling eyes on him, Mulder turned his head to look at Krycek, who suddenly looked away.
"Says who? You gonna tuck me in? Handcuff me to the end-table to make sure I count all my sheep?" Mulder asked sharply, unable to hide his irritation.
"End-table, Mulder? Do you sleep on your couch every night?" Krycek replied, without missing a beat.
There was a pause as Mulder realized the exhaustion must be slipping in. He hadn't meant to give away any details about his personal life. It wasn't that he really cared what this young punk thought, but it was the principle. The less people knew about his personal life, the better. And as for Alex Krycek, who was this guy anyway? Assigned to work a case with him out of the blue, and now, what? Were they partners? It's not like he was officially assigned anywhere at this point with the X-Files still closed, so why was Krycek still here? For whatever reason, the guy did seem pretty hell-bent on getting Mulder to like him.
"What's it to you, Krycek?"
Krycek shrugged. "Nothing. Guess I just assumed everyone at the Bureau could afford a bed."
Mulder squinted at something invisible outside the dash. Was that supposed to mean something? He didn't know. He didn't really care, at this point.
Ten more minutes of agonizing silence went by until the two men pulled up in front of Mulder's apartment complex. Krycek turned off the car and watched as Mulder got out. Should he follow him? Mulder had straight up told him he wasn't going to even try to sleep, and he couldn't risk him wandering off ...
Mulder was halfway to the door when Krycek got out of the car and followed him.
"It's okay Krycek, I don't need you to read me a bedtime story," Mulder said as he pulled out his keys.
Krycek caught up to Mulder before he entered the building, trying to think of any idotic excuse to follow him inside.
"What about … a friend?" Krycek tried inquisitively. Even he knew that was a stretch, but then Mulder froze for a second, and turned to look at him.
This was probably the first time Mulder had made eye-contact and truly looked at Krycek since this whole Duane Barry charade had started, and it sent a chill through his entire body. How did Mulder do that with just a look?
"You're relentless," was all Mulder said before walking over to the elevator and hitting the button. He made no other comment to suggest Krycek wasn't welcome, so Krycek stood there and waited with him until the elevator came, and then followed him in.
Mulder, on the other hand, wasn't sure why the little prick was following him. Surely he had taken Skinner's words too seriously. 'Make sure he gets home safely' didn't have to mean the god-damned front door.
"Listen, Krycek. I appreciate your concerns but-" Mulder paused as he met the other man's gaze and caught something he wasn't sure he was supposed to see. Was Krycek actually worried?
"But?" Krycek asked, clearly unaware that his expression had given something away.
"I'd just prefer to be alone right now." Mulder said finally, looking away from Krycek in the small space that was the elevator.
Okay, fine, thanks for waiting until I'm trapped in a fucking elevator with you to say so, Mulder. Krycek had to hold back rolling his eyes. "Well, I came this far. I can at least walk you to your door," he said instead. He hated biting back his words, but he still needed to be in Mulder's good graces, at least for a little while longer.
More silence followed as the two men stood awkwardly in the elevator. Finally, the soft ding and opening of the elevator doors allowed for an escape. Krycek exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Why was being around Mulder so deafening?
As promised, Krycek followed Mulder to his door, and watched as he fumbled with his keys. "Are you sure you're alright, Mulder?"
The dark glance that Mulder awarded Krycek let him know that that was most definitely the wrong thing to say. Of course he's not alright, why would you ask such a stupid question?
"Peachy," said Mulder. "So are you coming in, going away, or are you gonna linger in my doorway like an awkward first date?"
Krycek's face flushed at the implication of a date. How Mulder could so casually catch him off-guard he did not know. "If I'd've known this was a date, Mulder, I would've worn a different outfit."
No response, but Mulder entered the apartment without making a move to close the door behind him. Krycek took this as an invitation to follow and close the door himself, except as soon as the door was shut he found himself pinned to it, wedged between Mulder's rigid body and the wooden frame behind him.
"Mulder wha-?"
"Who are you? Who do you work for?" Mulder hissed, his face dangerously close to Krycek's.
"Mulder-" A hint of panic was betrayed in Krycek's voice. Keep cool, Alex. Stay calm. He swallowed and licked his lips. "What are you talking about?"
Mulder's close proximity was suddenly intoxicating, the undefined threat both dangerous and alluring at the same time. Krycek knew that he should be intimidated-Mulder was desperate, sleep-deprived, and closer to the truth than he knew-but all Krycek could focus on were the full lips in front of him, and the dark, tired eyes of a man who might rip him to pieces if he said the wrong thing. Krycek swallowed hard. "I'm on your side, Mulder."
And for a moment, Krycek wasn't sure if Mulder believed him.
Mulder closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He had no reason to really trust Krycek, other than the fact that he kind of liked the guy. Despite his somewhat annoying, prying tendencies, it was a little endearing that he followed Mulder around like a moth to a flame.
Krycek's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Mulder to sort out his thoughts. Was Mulder going to let him go? Interrogate him further? Beat the crap out of him? Krycek couldn't tell, but admittedly-it excited him. Did Mulder really think he could get away with assaulting him if he truly accused him of being a snitch?
After a moment Mulder seemed to make up his mind, and, much to Krycek's dismay, released him and backed off. A shame, really, I would have greatly enjoyed seeing you try to take me down, Krycek thought smugly.
Mulder turned and strode across the apartment, flicking on the television and flopping somewhat ungracefully onto the sofa.
Krycek stood for a moment, again unsure of what the best course of action would be. His thoughts were distracted by the murmuring sounds of the TV, and before he could decide whether or not staying was worth the trouble, he heard something he hadn't expected: soft, quiet sobs. Mulder was crying. Fuck.
Mulder didn't know what had come over him. It was abrupt, like all the grief of the last twenty-four hours finally caught up with him the moment he hit the couch. Scully was gone, and without her he felt profoundly alone. It wasn't like he hadn't been alone before, but Scully was the one person he could truly rely on. The only one he could trust with anything. And she wasn't just gone, she was taken. And they wouldn't even let him help look for her. It made him feel furious and helpless all at once, and now that he was alone, he couldn't contain the emotions anymore. The tears burned in his eyes and the thoughts swirled around inside his mind until it was too much for him to hold back, and his grief spilled down his cheeks. But just when he had all but disconnected from the reality of the room around him, he felt the weight shift on the couch next to him.
Krycek had no idea what he was doing. Just leave. Let the man sort it out himself. But something wouldn't let him. He wouldn't admit to himself that it was guilt, but there was some semblance of responsibility that made him walk towards that damned couch and sit down next to Mulder instead of running for the door.
Mulder had forgotten Krycek was even there. Should he be embarrassed? Why bother? He didn't care anymore. Pressing his finger and thumb to his eyes he continued to let his grief stream down his face.
"Is there …" Krycek cleared his throat, shaking his voice free of insecurities, "is there anything I can … do?"
A few more moments went by before Mulder collected himself. Steepling his fingers together in front of his face, he pressed his palms together and exhaled. "No," he said, with his eyes still closed.
After another pause he turned to look at Krycek, resting his cheek against his hands.
Krycek looked down at his own hands, clearly uncomfortable, but made no move to leave.
"Why are you still here, Krycek?" Mulder asked, sounding genuinely curious this time and not accusatory.
Krycek didn't know the answer, but he turned to meet Mulder's gaze. He took in Mulder's exhausted features: his disheveled hair, the stubble on his chin that hadn't been attended to for at least a day, his pouty bottom lip that stuck out just a little more than his top one. Christ, Alex, now's not the time to be developing your crush! Don't the words 'conflict of interest' mean anything to you? But he wasn't listening to himself. The risk made the temptation impossible to ignore. Unable to stop himself, he closed the gap between them and pressed a question to Mulder's lips.
Mulder may have been unsure of what was happening, but he didn't stop it. He watched Krycek lean forward as if in slow motion, and as Krycek's breath warmed his lips, Mulder's eyes fluttered shut with tears still beaded up on his lashes. The kiss was brief and careful, and Mulder realized that in that moment he didn't care why it was happening. When Krycek drew back to look at his reaction, Mulder merely sat in place with his lips slightly parted.
When Mulder didn't object, his eyes full of questions but his voice asking none of them, Krycek took that as his cue to ask another one himself. Eyes on Mulder's parted lips, he leaned in again, placing his hand on Mulder's cheek. When Mulder did the same, the excitement surged through Krycek. Could it be possible … that Mulder liked him? A heat began to rise inside him. God this is a mistake … but the thought didn't keep him from confidently pressing his mouth against Mulder's for a second time and taking that pouty bottom lip he'd been admiring only seconds before between his own.
Mulder ignored the lingering thought that he had no idea what he was doing. God it had been so long since he'd felt the warmth of another person's affections. He didn't have time for a real relationship, and flings with strangers weren't really his style. Of course he put on a good show, what with the jokes about pornography and all, but the truth was he spent most of his time looking up obscure mysteries and watching old movies. At least Krycek wasn't a total stranger … was he?
The question was soon forgotten as Krycek's tongue pushed its way inside Mulder's mouth and against his. (Jesus Christ Alex …) But along with his questions, Mulder's thoughts dissolved as his body responded of its own accord. The heat of Krycek's breath and the boldness with which he was invading Mulder's space only pumped him full of more adrenaline. Krycek's hands had found their way to the back of Mulder's neck, and Mulder couldn't help but mirror the action as he drew the man closer. The taste of desire and rapidly increasing pressure between lips, mouth, and tongue were addicting, and Mulder wanted as much as he could possibly get.
Krycek, who had long left his sense of reason behind, was also losing grip on control of his actions. He didn't know what his intention had been, or where he had planned to take this, but Mulder was now demanding him so eagerly he was starting to question what exactly he had put into motion. Mulder's hands migrated from the back of his neck down his shirt, and he was leaning over Krycek with his entire body.
"Wait … Mulder," Krycek's voice came out in a hoarse whisper as the kiss broke, and he held Mulder's face in his hands as Mulder went rigid and opened his eyes to look at him.
What is it? Mulder's eyes seemed to say, and again Krycek didn't know. Why had he stopped? But as he looked at the beautiful, longing eyes in front of him, he realized it had only been to let reality sink in.
"Nevermind. Forget it." Krycek said, licking his lips and regretting he had brought what had been a one way steam train to a grinding halt.
Mulder pulled back, and Krycek cursed himself. Shit. It's over. You blew it.
Krycek sat back on the couch, now uncomfortably aroused and with his heart pounding in his chest, unsure of what the fuck to do next.
"I wasn't… I wasn't trying to take advantage of you." Krycek said at last, swallowing and eyeing Mulder carefully, hoping he hadn't just blown the entire assignment with a single impulsive action.
"I get it," Mulder said. He leaned back on the couch again also, and closed his eyes.
After another silence, this time Mulder spoke first.
"Actually, I don't get it. Alex, what is this?" He leaned forward, turning, and looked Krycek directly in the eyes.
Mulder's tone wasn't threatening, but there was something vaguely imposing in his posture (and in the use of Krycek's first name) that sent Krycek into another spiral. I can't believe I fucked this up! I was in his god-damned arms and ... just look at him!
"Fuck it, Mulder, I don't know. You just looked so damn sad, alright? I didn't know what else to-" but this time Mulder interrupted him by leaning forward, mouth hanging slightly ajar, and kissing him again. Oh...
Mulder didn't know what had come over him, but from the moment Krycek had placed his fucking invasive curiosity on his own lips he could think of nothing else. He wanted to taste that fire and he wanted it now. He didn't know why Krycek was here or why he wanted Mulder in this instant, but he didn't care.
Mulder's now decidedly determined hands grasped Krycek roughly by the shirt collar as he brought the other man's mouth to his own again, and he didn't waste any time picking up where they had left off.
Krycek, who had thought it was over, found himself in utter disbelief as Mulder all but climbed on top of him, grabbed him by the shirt, and kissed him deeply. Unable to control his response, Krycek moaned against Mulder's demanding mouth, and was rewarded with a deep, guttural sound from Mulder in return. Jesus Fuck! The vibration of deep tones traveled through Krycek's entire body like liquid fire, igniting everything in its path as it went. His hair stood on end as every single one of his muscles tensed up in anticipation. Please for the love of God, Mulder, don't stop ...
Sensing Krycek's arousal, Mulder grinned against the younger man's mouth. Sweat had started to bead up on Krycek's forehead, and Mulder tore himself away from Krycek's now moist lips, slick and swollen from their eager exchanges. Making a decision, he yanked Krycek towards him by his tie, and in yet another frenzy of hot breaths, moans, and wandering hands, he untied it and grabbed hastily at the buttons on Krycek's shirt underneath.
Krycek could hardly think straight as Mulder went for his shirt. Was this what he wanted? Did he want Mulder to fuck him? But the smooth warmth of Mulder's palm against his bare chest answered his question for him as he moaned involuntarily (and loudly). Yes, YES! I want this. I fucking want this so fucking bad ...
Mulder's prying hands explored their way across Krycek's chest, and Krycek couldn't help but lean into the touch. Mulder's mouth had moved on from his own, and the scratchiness of Mulder's stubble prickled against Krycek's throat as Mulder kissed his way down his neck. Krycek couldn't even figure out what sensation he was supposed to be paying attention to as Mulder's hands untucked his shirt and made their way to his belt. Mulder continued to kiss downward and Krycek leaned back on the couch, easing Mulder's access to his now extremely restricting pants. Please Mulder for the love of ...
Sensing the eagerness of his new playmate, Mulder unbuckled Krycek's belt and unzipped his pants. Krycek was sliding deeper and deeper into the couch, his arms lost somewhere above his head while his hands grabbed and gripped desperately at any part of the leather they could hold onto.
You're making this all too easy, Alex. Mulder smirked as he brought his lips to the thin layer of fabric that was now between him and Krycek's fully erect sex.
Krycek whimpered softly as the dampness of Mulder's breath penetrated through the fabric of his briefs. Don't tease me, you sick piece of shit! But he had absolutely no agency at this point, let alone the ability to speak. All he could register was the hammering of his heart in his chest and the pressure of warm lips and tongue against his-
"Fuck!" Krycek cried out desperately as Mulder slid his sneaky, dexterous hands beneath Krycek's briefs, and in one swift movement took the length of him into his mouth. My GOD, Mulder! Krycek gasped and sucked in a mouthful of air as his mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He hadn't wanted to be teased but this man was wasting no time at all. Krycek's hips bucked and swelled as Mulder gripped him firmly by the ass and lowered those cruel, demanding, lips around him again and again and fucking again until Krycek was nearly on the brink. He couldn't help himself. He grabbed Mulder forcefully by the hair on the back of his head and thrust himself into the tight, comforting, heat of his throat-but letting Mulder know how close he was was a god-damned mistake.
One, two, three desperate thrusts, and Krycek gripped Mulder for dear fucking life-but before the twinge of relief could even begin to form, Mulder clutched Krycek by his thighs and ripped himself free. Krycek's eyes shot open in agony and looked up at Mulder, who was now kneeling over him looking disheveled with sweat pouring from his brow.
Breathing heavily, Mulder wiped his forehead roughly with the back of his hand before loosening his tie and unzipping his own trousers. Krycek's eyes burned into him, desperation and frustration written all over his face.
"Why the fuck did you stop?" Krycek whined, hating the way he sounded.
But Mulder didn't answer, he simply smirked as he freed himself and removed his own pants, and all Krycek could do was watch in anticipation as Mulder hovered over him, erect and hot as hell.
Mulder may have questioned himself in the beginning, but he knew exactly what he was doing now. He knew when he'd indulged the other man quickly, he knew when he'd stopped him from finishing, and he knew now as he leaned forward over the desperate figure below him, allowing the slightest, delicate brush of contact between their erections. It was a tactic: a carefully plotted, intricate tease. Mulder thought Krycek was going to scream, and the exhilaration rushed through Mulder at having that power over him.
Mulder leaned in close to Krycek's ear, his own heart pounding against the other man's chest. "Roll over, Alex."
"But Fox…"
"Do it!" Mulder commanded a little more harshly than he had intended. The use of his first name had caught him off guard. He should've expected to have his own tactic thrown back at him, but Krycek had proven to be quick on the uptake. You're a tricky little bastard, Alex Krycek.
Krycek looked at Mulder with sudden amusement slapped across his face, and Mulder realized too late that he had made a grave error. Somehow, in his own eagerness, he had relinquished control.
Krycek traced a finger up Mulder's back, creating a chill in its wake, and drew Mulder's ear to his lips to whisper: "Make me."
Having none of it, Mulder climbed off of Krycek, and grabbed him by the collar. Handling him roughly, he jerked him up and shoved him face down against the couch. Krycek clutched the back of the couch as he landed with his knees against the cushions and Mulder's arm wedged between his shoulder blades.
Krycek swallowed hard as he prepared himself for whatever Mulder was about to do next, but instead of another command, when Mulder's voice came close to his ear, it was soft and gentle: "Are you … should I … ?" And it took a second for Krycek to realize what he was referring to.
"I'm clean, Mulder, but I wouldn't say no if you want to use something." He was taken aback by the sudden gentleness, but it made sense that Mulder, clearly an intelligent but also a considerate man, would have safety in mind.
There was a pause, and Mulder backed off and briefly left the room. Krycek continued to kneel on the sofa, feeling suddenly very naked and cold, folding his arms and resting against the back of the couch to catch his breath.
When Mulder came back he was holding a condom, a bottle of lube, and a towel, the latter of which he tossed in Krycek's direction. Krycek eyed him questioningly as he watched him tear open the condom and slide it on. "For the couch," Mulder said, briefly meeting his gaze.
Krycek rolled his eyes and took the towel, covering the couch in front of him. Real classy, Agent Mulder. The action somehow made the whole thing feel sort of cheap, but he did respect the man for wanting to keep his couch clean.
Moving a bit slower now, realizing his hands were shaking, Mulder uncapped the bottle and rubbed some lube onto himself (Fuck! Cold!) before setting the bottle on the coffee table. Krycek still hadn't turned to look at him, and Mulder wasn't sure if this was because he was nervous, or if he was just remaining where Mulder had put him because Mulder had put him there.
"I'm sorry, I don't have a bed," Mulder said, now at Krycek's ear again, and a shiver traveled down Krycek's spine. He could sense that Mulder wasn't trying to be threatening, but there was something ominous about Mulder standing behind him while he knelt on the couch that was arousing just the same.
"I don't care, Mulder," Krycek tensed as Mulder brushed up against him. Mulder's bare skin against his own told him that Mulder had removed his shirt, and the contact was so irresistibly hot that all he wanted was to be engulfed by the heat.
"Relax, Alex … " came Mulder's voice from next to his ear, and Mulder's warm hands smoothed down his body, sending another shiver through him. Alex … he called me Alex ...
Mulder was still pushing reality to the back of his mind as he let his impulses control him. What the fuck are you doing, Fox? You work together! The concerns were there, but he couldn't hear them over the screaming urge for gratification. Krycek had given in so willingly, and now that he had had a taste all he wanted was the release brought on by the hot tightness of another warm body. Why Krycek had come on to him Mulder didn't know, but that was a question for later.
Mulder smoothed his hands between Krycek's shoulder blades and up his neck, and Krycek leaned his head back into the touch. "Are you going to fuck me, Fox? Or am I gonna have to throw you down on this couch myself?"
Mulder laughed, and Krycek was genuinely startled. It hadn't been a joke. Mulder had started off like a trailblazer, and now suddenly he was taking his sweet-ass time! But Mulder was simply amused at how readily Krycek had complained.
You're one impatient little fucker, aren't you?
Responding to Krycek's impatience, Mulder slid his fingers up through Krycek's hair and grabbed roughly, yanking his head back and causing him to yelp in surprise. But before Krycek could question Mulder's action, he felt the gentle prod of Mulder's erection at last. The anticipation was causing his own cock to throb painfully, if only that fucking tease hadn't gotten him going so easily it'd be easier to wait, but God this was agony.
Mulder bit his lip hard as he released the other man's hair and instead slid his hands down to grip him by his thighs.
Krycek moaned as Mulder's warm hands traveled over his body yet again, and leaned forward to give Mulder better access as he pushed himself inside. The friction of having Mulder enter him from behind caused Krycek's mouth to drop open involuntarily, and he couldn't help but tighten his grip on the couch in front of him. Finally.
Still exploring this new intimacy, Mulder started off slowly, easing himself in just a little at a time before retreating, and each time going just a little deeper, until he found a comfortable rhythm.
Krycek rocked back and forth with Mulder's movements, his concerns about how much trouble he'd be in if anyone found out about this little indulgence long forgotten.
After a time, Mulder reached around from behind to stroke Krycek's cock with a delicate finger and thumb, and Krycek nearly lost it. He whimpered loudly as the warmth of Mulder's fingertips traced the length of him, up and down.
"Are you alright?" Mulder mouthed at his ear.
All Krycek could do was nod as the motion of Mulder's body brought him closer to the edge, and his confident but gentle grip stroked him at the same time. "No one has ever … " done both he wanted to say, but the words were lost in oblivion as he leaned back against Mulder's shoulder and jammed his eyes shut. Mulder's gentle stroking with the simultaneous fulfillment of being penetrated was overwhelming. So much so, that Krycek let out an involuntary sound from his throat that wasn't quite a moan or a whimper, just a vocalization of animalistic desire that he couldn't control.
Krycek's cries of pleasure were almost enough to bring Mulder to the edge.
Mulder clenched his teeth as the sweat rolled off his forehead. He had been moving somewhat slowly up until this point, allowing Krycek to relax into the sensations, but the sound that had erupted from him as his head lulled against Mulder's chest sent a surge through him, compelling for more. Faster!
Mulder shifted his weight, clutching Krycek roughly by the thigh as he thrust into him more and more forcefully. Fuck. Fuck! It felt so good to be with another person. He'd been alone for so long he'd almost forgotten what it felt like: to be needed, to be craved, to have someone grasp onto you (or your furniture) so tightly like they might die if you let go … Oh god, oh FUCK! He could feel it, he was close, and Krycek's increasing tension on his tightly engulfed dick was enough to tell him he was too.
Krycek tensed as Mulder thrust into him harder and harder, and he thought he might dig his own fingers right through the fabric of the couch. Just when he thought he couldn't take it much longer, the mind-melting combination of both gentle and hard simultaneously wracking his body, Mulder slid the hand that had been teasing his cock hard up against the shaft of his body, curled his fingers delicately around Krycek's balls, and seated himself as deeply as possible within the other man. Another unidentifiable sound escaped Krycek's throat as he surrendered all his movements to Mulder's control.
In another swift movement Mulder brought his other hand up to Krycek's throat, and gripped with just enough pressure to slow the flow of oxygen to his brain. Mulder, you sneaky son of a bitch! This wasn't sloppy or impulsive, it was calculated and knowing, (the man even knew how to choke properly-suspicious) and as Krycek's mind slipped, Mulder whispered, his mouth pressed up against Krycek's sweaty cheek, "Come for me, Alex."
And wordlessly, mouth hanging ajar, and eyes rolled back, he did.
Grinning, Mulder watched in satisfaction as Krycek came, the spoils of his hard work shooting messily all over the towel Krycek had laid out. And as the other man gasped and went limp around him, Mulder closed his eyes and focused on the tight restrictions sending waves of ecstasy through his own tired, beat up body. After a few moments of rhythmic motion and ragged breathing, the climax finally began to overtake his own nerves. Fuck…
Mulder moaned lazily into Krycek's shoulder as he came, twitching and thrusting uncontrollably as the sweet relief exploded through his veins. The impulses carried his motions, and curses couldn't even form into full words in his mind until he had emptied himself completely, riding the pulses of pleasure until they fizzled out. Finally, still seeing stars but absolutely depleted, he relaxed his grip on Krycek and eased himself out.
Krycek collapsed forward onto the couch, breathing heavily. "Jesus Christ, Fox …" Krycek said, running his fingers shakily through his hair.
Mulder shook his head even as he grinned sheepishly at his satisfied companion. "Don't call me that. Everyone ..." he breathed heavily between his words, "... calls me, Mulder."
Krycek laid his head back on the couch, his chest heaving. "Fine, Mulder. Whatever. That …" he paused, still catching his breath, "that was …"
"Oh stop," Mulder said coyly, removing the condom and flopping down on the other end of the couch, "you're going to embarrass me."
"Fine," said Krycek, not having the energy to fight it. "That was just the best sex I've had in a very long time. And I don't usually let anyone …" top me … again the words were lost as he continued to breathe. Surely Mulder knew what he meant, anyway.
Mulder smirked but didn't say anything as he watched the man on the other end of the couch.
"Take your time, Alex," Mulder said, yawning purposefully, "I may take a shower."
Krycek merely waved his hand as he yawned, hoisted his pants back up, and leaned back on the couch. It had started to catch up with him how tired he actually was, and he was suddenly feeling extremely relaxed. This was a huge fucking mistake, he thought as his eyelids grew heavy, and he played with the thought that he'd just let them rest for a moment. And yet I don't regret it a single bit.
Mulder watched with mild satisfaction as Krycek dozed off, picking up the towel, folding it up, and cleaning himself off. I don't know why you came on to me Alex, and I must've been losing my mind to indulge like this. I can't let this happen again, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. Bastard.
Mulder left the room to clean himself up, and now that he was free of his babysitter, he knew what he was going to do next. Despite the morning's turn of events he found himself surprisingly focused. That's one way to clear your head, he thought, amused at his own state of mind. I guess you were able to help, after all. Mulder smiled to himself, eyeing the sleeping agent on his couch with his shirt still unbuttoned. Thank you, Alex.
When Krycek came to, Mulder was gone.