Morning-after omelet
By Palinurus
October 30, 1997
When Mulder woke up there was no warm body next to him. His first reaction was anger, but then he heard cheerful, if chaotic, noises in the kitchen. He lay still for a while, slightly sore, slightly uneasy, but absurdly happy. Then he got up and walked into the kitchen.
The mess was amazing. Pots, dishes and utensils were strewn over the countertop, blobs and puddles of unidentifiable substances covered all available surfaces. Krycek was standing in the middle of the clutter, naked, whisking away at another substance in a bowl. He looked around and winked when he heard Mulder approach.
"Morning dearest, I was just making you some breakfast."
"Krycek, I never eat breakfast, and don't call me that."
"Ah yes. Bitching and moaning, mr. Last Name gets ready for another day at the office." He smiled over his shoulder and wiggled his ass provocatively.
Mulder grinned despite himself, stepped over a puddle on the floor and leaned against Krycek.
"I never have time for breakfast."
He ran his hand over Kryceks chest and belly, again surprised at the instant response. Krycek dropped the eggbeater into the bowl, held onto the counter and ground his ass against Mulder, crooning happily.
After barely a minute of increasingly heated rubbing, kneading and writhing, Mulder reached over Krycek's shoulder and dipped three fingers into the butter that was conveniently laid out. He rubbed it into Krycek's ass, feeling slightly ashamed about such decadence.
Krycek made some very suggestive movements, then moaned loudly when Mulder entered him. He leaned back, draping himself against Mulder like a diva, closing his eyes seductively, and let his knees buckle, forcing Mulder to carry his weight. He muttered, "Oh! oh!" in time with the thrusts, evoking giggles from Mulder, and then an annoyed "Shut up or I'll stop!"
Hoping to quiet him, Mulder reached for Krycek's cock, only to find Krycek's hand already there. It didn't shut Krycek up, but at least his incantations changed tone, increased in pitch and volume, until a croaked "Ohhh..." signified the finale. Mulder held on to him, thrust several times very fast while Krycek was blessedly silent, and managed a mediocre orgasm before succumbing to giggles.
Glued together, they stood for several seconds. Mulder kissed Krycek's neck, then looked over his shoulder at the amazing chaos on the counter top.
"How do you create such a mess, Krycek? Does it require extra training?"
"It comes with another skill, Mulder. It's called cooking. But you wouldn't know that."
He cheerfully beat the eggs some more, then spooned a dollop of the multifunctional butter into the frying pan and dumped the egg mixture in immediately after. Mulder was still studying the chaos.
"Krycek, I'm not trying to be a nuisance here, but I think I'm missing a specific puddle."
Krycek looked at him pityingly. "Sometimes I'd swear you came out of
a culture flask only a few years ago. Have you never heard of morning-after
omelette? It has a specific... twist to the aroma that can really only
be obtained this way. If you hadn't shown up I'd have done it myself."
He batted his lashes at Mulder.
Please send your comments to palinurus@squidge.org
Background by Kathie