Beer And Birthday Cheer

Mulder's footsteps echoed through the near-empty parking garage as he made his way to his car. Scully had left hours ago, but he was in no hurry to get home. Sometimes he would convince himself it was the traffic that made him leave the office this late, but in reality his apartment was merely a stopover between assignments. It was the place in which he rarely ate, barely slept, and would have been devoid of life if it weren't for his fish and the mold that was growing on the bread in the kitchen.

Sometimes it hit him that he was getting into his forties with no real direction except for the unending desire to expose the myriad conspiracies that seemed to dominate his work. But lately his enthusiasm was wavering; the fact was that he had no life, no real sense of accomplishment in his career, and absolutely no friends whatsoever.

So when his phone rang as he sunk into the driver's seat of his car, the voice on the other end caught him completely off-guard.

"Oooh, answered on one ring. You were expecting me."

"Krycek." The word came out in an angry hiss. "How did you get this number?"

"You mean that other than my talent for opening beer bottles one-handed I never mentioned I was psychic as well, Mulder? Or perhaps I got the number from your business card, dumb ass. You must have been absent the day the Academy covered covert phone operations."

Mulder sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, too tired to realize how stupid the phone number question really was.

"What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something? Maybe I called to chat -- see how things were, how life is treatin' ya, Mulder, my man."

"I doubt that."

"Ah, you know me too well. In fact, I do want something."

"Tough shit," Mulder growled, and hung up.

As soon as he moved to turn the key in the ignition, his phone rang again.

"What?" he barked.

"That was rude," Krycek said evenly. "It might make me question your privileged upbringing, Fox."

"Fuck you, Krycek, and don't call me that."

"Testy this evening, aren't we? Did you have a hard day? Aliens running away too fast? Drop your gun again?"

"Krycek..." Mulder sighed, losing patience for the man's constant mind games. "Tell me what the hell you want or I'm hanging up again."

"So your interest isn't even piqued when your mortal enemy calls you at 10 o'clock at night?"

"I really wouldn't consider you my mortal enemy, Krycek."

"No?"

"You're more of a pain in my ass, not worth the trouble."

"Fox, you wound me."

Mulder gritted his teeth. "What did I tell you?"

"Okay, okay, Christ." Krycek laughed in his ear. "Fine, I'll get to the point, *Mulder*. I have a proposition for you."

"You realize I don't care, right?"

"Just wait...listen. Do you know what today is? It's my birthday, and I thought you might want to buy me a beer."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Shot of tequila, then?"

"I'm not buying you any sort of drink, you murdering son of a bitch..."

He heard Krycek sigh loudly in his ear. "Here we go..."

"What was that?"

"Oh c'mon, Mulder!" Krycek yelled. "It's been years, now. I regret it, I'm sorry, but your father was a bastard! He was involved in the project, and he knew the risks. He was no saint. Maybe you should take a good look at his supposed noble character. Do you know how many people *he* killed?"

"I...no..."

"Of course you don't," Krycek answered. "You're wrapped in your little world of UFOs and conspiracy theories, and you never once have taken a look at the big picture."

That gave Mulder pause, because dammit, Krycek was right. And he hated it.

"And what's the big picture, Krycek?"

"That we're all pawns in a big game, Mulder, and there will be no winner. Life is short -- shorter for some of us -- so the chance to sit, have a beer, and put aside the chess pieces for one night would be a welcome change."

"For your birthday."

"Yeah," Krycek responded. "It would be nice to celebrate with someone for once. I'm always alone on my birthday."

"Well, get used to it," Mulder said sharply, and hung up.

The darkness of his apartment beckoned Mulder once he shut the door behind him. Hopefully tonight sleep would come quickly. As usual, he hadn't been sleeping well again. He hung up his suit jacket and was loosening his tie when his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to make out someone sitting on the couch.

"So," Krycek said with a smile, squinting from the brightness of the lamp Mulder had just switched on, "I decided I had better bring my own beer."

"Goddammit," Mulder cursed, fumbling for his gun. He finally trained it on the man who was nonchalantly sprawled on his leather couch.

"I've just had a revelation, Mulder," Krycek said, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "You would be remarkably easy to kill, despite those..." Krycek nodded to Mulder's hip, "lightning-fast reflexes."

"Except I'm the one holding the gun."

"You'd shoot me on my birthday?"

"Yes, and I'd shoot you on *my* birthday, too, if given a chance," Mulder retorted.

"And when's that?"

"October thir..." Mulder caught himself too late, angry that he simply answered Krycek's question.

Krycek bit off a chuckle and looked up at him.

"What's so funny?" Mulder asked.

"I know when your birthday is, Mulder. I just wanted to see if you'd answer."

"Stop being such an asshole," Mulder huffed, walking into the living room.

"I even sent you a card last year," Krycek quipped.

"Shut *up*."

"It had a puppy on it."

A grinning Krycek caught the other man's eye, and the corner of Mulder's mouth quirked upward.

"You can't shoot someone who gave you a birthday card with *puppies*, Mulder."

Mulder rolled his eyes and lowered his gun. "You never sent me a card."

Krycek held up his hand. "Okay, you're right. I was busy being evil at the time, but I swear it was in my day planner."

Mulder looked down at the six-pack on his coffee table. "You actually came for that beer."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I already told you."

Mulder began to holster his weapon until he caught Krycek's eye again.

"Are you carrying?"

"Of course, Mulder. But I'm not here to hurt you. I was..." Krycek's voice trailed off, and he looked down at his hands.

"What?"

Krycek didn't look up when he answered. "I don't want to be alone tonight, that's all." His voice had dropped to that low, whispery timbre Mulder remembered as sounding dangerous. Tonight it simply sounded needy.

"And you came *here*?"

Krycek shrugged, still looking down. "I just wanted to celebrate with someone I know." He looked up then, his eyes staring defiantly into Mulder's. "But I don't blame you if you don't want to."

"No...it's all right." Mulder walked over to the couch and sat down next to Krycek, their arms brushing when he did so. He leaned his head back and released a deep breath. "I didn't anticipate having company tonight."

Krycek rose from the couch and headed for the kitchen. "I did call, y'know," he mumbled.

"What?"

The other man walked back into the room with a bottle opener. "Do you ever have company?"

"Generally only when someone's trying to kill me, so I don't bother cleaning."

"I can see that," Krycek said, shoving aside a stack of newspapers and magazines so he could sit back down next to Mulder on the couch.

Krycek pulled a bottle from the cardboard carrier, and Mulder hesitated, acutely aware of the man's disability, yet somehow strangely unwilling to offend him by offering to help. It was an odd situation; Mulder didn't want to hurt Krycek's feelings.

Luckily, Krycek's boast on the phone earlier was no joke, and he was able to easily open both bottles by simply sticking each under his arm and removing the bottle cap with his good hand.

Krycek then clinked the side of Mulder's bottle with his. "To one more year."

After a swig Mulder glanced sideways at the other man. "Is it really your birthday?"

Krycek nodded. "I'm a pretty honest guy, Mulder, except when I'm lying."

"Funny."

"But it really is my birthday. Didn't you ever read my file?"

"Yeah, but it's been years since we worked together."

"I can remember yours, and you're the one with the eidetic memory," Krycek stated, taking another sip.

Mulder looked down sheepishly.

"It's okay. You can't help the type of man you are."

"What the hell does that mean?" Mulder asked, his brow creasing.

Krycek put his bottle down and turned, moving so that their thighs touched. Smiling slightly, he said to Mulder, "Your brilliant, gorgeous mind is always three steps ahead of everyone else, but sometimes you're blind to what's right in front of you."

Their eyes met again, and when Krycek didn't look away Mulder suddenly felt something other than contempt pass between them. The sensation was unnerving. Krycek's stare was flicking back and forth between Mulder's lips and eyes, the sight of which was making Mulder's stomach quiver. Then Mulder's nervous habit got the better of him and he absentmindedly licked his bottom lip.

Krycek's sudden intake of breath sent heat cascading through Mulder's body.

"Wh-What did you just say?" Mulder stuttered, feeling as though his heart was going to ricochet around his chest and come to a stop.

Then Krycek leaned over, bracing his weight on his good arm, and brought his mouth right up to Mulder's ear.

"I said that the mysterious Truth you've been seeking for so long could be whispering into your ear right now, but you're afraid to accept it."

"Krycek, I...I..."

"Fox, I didn't come here only to drink beer for my birthday," he growled seductively, sliding closer on the couch and placing his hand on Mulder's thigh.

And then he ran his tongue along the edge of Mulder's ear.

Mulder began panting, and he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, allowing Krycek to slide his hot mouth over the artery pulsing in his neck. It was sudden and unlike him, but Mulder knew Krycek was right. He didn't need to second-guess himself or have any doubt that what was now occurring should have happened a long time ago, and he was fine with that. Christ, he was definitely fine with it. He heard Krycek sucking and lapping, moving up to his earlobe and under his ear, and then down over the length of his neck.

Suddenly Krycek was on top of him, straddling his waist, his right hand entwined with Mulder's. He licked and bit his way across Mulder's throat, tongue dancing and playing around the stubble covering his jaw.

Mulder gasped and bucked his hips, his motions answered by the man on top of him who thrust himself into Mulder's lap in time with the movements of his tongue. Teeth raked the edge of his chin, and then Krycek claimed his mouth in a deep, sensuous kiss -- their lips mashing together and Krycek's tongue squirming inside. He was rocking now, moving along with each burning touch forced over his mouth.

Krycek slid his hand under Mulder's shirt, rubbing his abs and teasing the nipples. Mulder reached up and drew Krycek closer by wrapping his arms around the other man, pulling them down on top of one another on the couch. His hands drifted down to Krycek's ass.

"Alex..."

The other man simply moaned in response.

"Al-Alex...wait, hold on...I need to say something..."

Krycek reluctantly released the other man by slowly letting Mulder's bottom lip slide from his mouth.

"I...holy *shit*...um..."

"Fox, whatever it is," Krycek tweaked a nipple, "make it fast."

Mulder looked up at him. "Happy Birthday, Alex. I'm glad you're not alone this year."

Krycek grinned brightly, and went back to kissing the man lying under him, who began to squirm again. "So am I, Mulder," he whispered in his ear again, "so am I."