Krycek Pudding

Krycek carefully counted the seconds, reciting them along with the digits his watch displayed. At some undocumented mental deadline he pushed open the door and crept into a remote corner of the darkened room. He sought out from his inside pocket a small remote, pointed it towards the wall behind the TV set, where the ceiling met it and hit a button. A green diode flicked red, confirming that the survey camera was momentarily disabled.

The entire procedure was accomplished in total silence.

The Russian's eyes, accustomed to the faint glow coming from the street lights, enhanced by the reflection of the snow, made out the sleeping form on the couch. Mulder wore his usual night outfit, loose t-shirt and sweatpants. He lay on his side, snoring softly. On the coffee table were the remains of his lonely Christmas dinner: an empty metallic box of genuine English Christmas pudding, and half a bottle of Glen Morangie.

Curious, Krycek took a few steps towards the desk to examine the small crib that sat beside the monitor. He bent over, making out the bizarre shape in the cradle; it was a Grey. The Russian straightened, shaking his head. If Sister Scully saw this, she would be utterly shocked, but to Mulder it was, perhaps, less of a blasphemy than a working hypothesis...

A noise behind him made the visitor's heart stop, and he turned towards the couch, but the sleeper hadn't woken up; his body had merely switched in a more comfortable position; he now lay on his back. Murmuring, he stretched a little. Krycek hold his breath, but nothing more alarming happened.

The dark silhouette crossed half the room to pick up a chair and bring it closer to the couch with its unsuspecting owner; he straddled it, his arm resting loosely on the wooden back. Lowering his chin to his forearm, he wondered once again what could be so fascinating about the sight of his sleeping enemy. What kept him coming here again and again, creeping in like a silent cat? He felt like a thief in the night, breaking in to a closed museum, not in order to steal anything, but to feast selfishly on beauties that were never meant for his eyes.

Mulder moaned suddenly, shaking his head as if to get rid of something annoying. His body stiffened a little, and his pelvis rocked a few times, drawing Krycek's attention to the growing bulge tenting the grey fabric. The Russian held back silent laughter and felt pleased that he'd turned off the camera. "Mulder's nights" were a must at the survey center; he suspected some of the guards traded their watch hours to more interested comrades. As much as he plainly understood the guys' attention, he couldn't help experiencing a pang of jealousy at hearing their comments; a jealousy he knew better than to show as he was perfectly aware of what would be his superiors' reaction if they came to know of his private obsession.

At least Tony was in charge tonight; he was interested in women only. His watching over Mulder was purely professional.

The Fed's sleep became more agitated. He was now sporting an impressive erection, and Krycek couldn't take his eyes from it. He found it more and more difficult to swallow. He silently rose from the chair and reverently knelt down in front of the couch. His hand came to his own crotch to nurse a similar hardness, but he wanted the moment to stretch, and he didn't dare allow himself more than a few caresses through the thick denim. He was already leacking fluids.

Mulder was moaning continuously now, his hips trying to buck but entangled in sleep gossamer. After a slight hesitation, Krycek gently fingered the fabric that displayed so much of the swollen rod. He hissed briefly when Mulder's heat went right through his own flesh. The sleeper whispered something quite inaudible but didn't show any further reaction to the clandestine attention. Krycek's hand closed around the covered cock, keeping his touch feathery. He felt a pulse racing through the rigid member and muted a painful whimper.

Still unconscious, Mulder pushed himself into the hand that pampered him, and a grin half-stretched his sweet mouth. His self-control ruined by the dreamy reaction, Krycek bit his lower lip, before grasping the sweatpants' waistband. He couldn't lower them much without waking up his target, but the sleeper's previous moves had made them already slip a little down his right hip. Krycek managed to free the glans and corona that showed dark on the white skin of the almost hairless belly. Mulder twitched a little at the brief discomfort but the fingers teasing his bared flesh made him squirm happily.

His visitor knew all of his anatomy after eagerly watching hours of survey tapes. But all he get were blurry, jumping black and white images shot at an awkward angle. The camera was placed to catch the better part of the room, and the desk with its computer was usually a target of greater interest for observers.. Krycek treasured too the memory of the few minutes stolen at the Hoover pool but he wished he had had a better look when he was allowed. His mind was too engrossed then with his current agenda, and the tough game he was to enter.

Right now he couldn't quite believe the tips of his fingers were softly rubbing Mulder's glans; he angled his hand so that his wrist could touch the tightening balls, taking care not to press in any way on the Fed's body. Krycek's throat was dry and constricted with the efforts he made not to move at all, save for his fingers; he licked his lips and continued martyring the lower one as he drank in the sight of Mulder's face. The older man was breathing heavily, his mouth swollen and half- open, his eyes frenetically rolling under his eyelids. His features contorted and relaxed by turns. His arms rested along his body, but his fists were clenching.

Krycek was deadly worried at the prospect of his former partner waking up suddenly to find his enemy caressing him. What he was doing was a long way from being rape, but he was quite certain Mulder wouldn't see things his way.

Mulder's breathing rhythm quickened, and Krycek felt a first spasm starting under his hand. Without further thought, he leaned his face into the Fed's groin and closed his mouth over the pulsing glans. The first load of warm and salty cum hit his throat, and Mulder's belly tensed against his cheek. Shot after shot Mulder emptied into the open mouth with no more than a whimper. The almost complete silence during the steamy act made it seem more of a wet dream than a folly to the Russian. He waited to be sure Mulder had nothing more to give him before raising his head and wondered at the softening cock. He hadn't spared one drop, and the Fed's skin and pants were as clean as a baby's.

Mulder shivered quietly and fell back into deep sleep. With a sigh of relief Krycek covered him again, after adding a shy kiss on the glowing tip. Then he sat on his heels and made a face at the far-too-tight jeans constricting his own erection. It hadn't subdued during the scene, far from it, and was now really painful; but he didn't want to take care of himself, not now, not this way. He felt he owed it to Mulder.

He stood up and bent lightly over Mulder's peaceful features. "Spasibo, tovarich", he whispered with a smile. Stretching he strode towards the door. He stopped into the dark corner close to the door and once more used the small remote. When the diode flickered green he counted 15 seconds silently before leaving, one shadow among so many others.

The snow had begun to fall again. The white blanket was rapidly thickening on the sidewalks. The traffic was sparse on this Christmas night, and only a few tracks intersected on the gritted pavement. Krycek raised his head to catch a last glimpse of the anonymous window on the fourth floor behind which slept his unaware lover. He clenched his thighs as if to test his raging hard-on, then he straightened himself. He turned his collar up and left at a swift pace, his lonely, feral silhouette quickly fading beyond the swirling snowflakes. The hollow tracks his heavy boots left were soon filled with fresh snow, and everything that was Krycek disappeared within the whiteness of the winter night.

Mulder woke up in a daze. He felt spent and perfectly happy at the same time. He frowned, trying to gather rags of his dream. It had to have been a wet one from the general feeling he got at the flashes he couldn't quite grasp. He stretched, yawning, and his hands went absent- mindly to his crotch. But there was neither dampness nor dry semen here, and his cock was soft.

He shrugged and tried again to capture some images. As a psychologist he made a point of listening to his own dreams. Analysing them in the morning - when he was allowed the time to do so - had often proved to be helpful. Despite his efforts nothing clear came to his mind. He had fallen into a deep sleep after the dream, which always cancelled most of it. Nevertheless an inner voice kept telling him that Alex Krycek was somehow linked to it. He felt angry, because he didn't like his nemesis to dig his way into any of his dreams, let alone the erotic ones.

Abruptly, he sat up on the couch, scratching his head as if to erase the smirk of his former partner from his mind. His mouth was dry. His eyes fell upon the Scotch bottle but it didn't seem appropriate, even on Christmas night. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. A glance outside told him the night was nowhere near over. The light he had thought to be a hint of dawn was born from fresh snow only.

Yawning again he came back to his couch and lay down again. He grunted as Krycek's face surged once more in his mind, pink mouth stretching in a mocking smile, green eyes softly blinking, his long eyelashes brushing his high cheekbones... Mulder swore loudly and blushed as he felt his cock hardening.

Looking around him he couldn't find a place where the Rat bastard hadn't been at least once, were it during their partnership or later, after his betrayal, when he had made almost an habit of breaking into his apartment, the same way he was now doing into his mind. What was wrong with him? Then Mulder wondered what was wrong with himself. Somehow he was certain Krycek had been involved in his last dream, though he had woken up in a very good mood, which was quite contradictory!

On his private theater's screen, Krycek smiled at him, licking his lips in a sensual way; for once the killer wasn't smirking, just smiling - a friendly, inviting smile as if the Rat bastard could know of the meaning of the word "friendly". The scene went on, Krycek leaning in the doorway, his leather jacket open on his black t-shirt, his hand rubbing his chest dreamily, before going lower, not stopping at the leather belt, reaching his hard-on and squeezing himself...

Mulder felt the blood flushing his cheeks, and he shut out the vision. His cock was asking for attention nonetheless, and he decided to conjure a more politically correct scene. In one of the porns he had rented two weeks before, a brunette had caught more than his full attention. She was a highly improbable burglar "working" at night in a palace. He could easily pictured himself as the handsome hotel detective who had surprised her in a corridor and taken her to a vacant room with the firm intention of investigating all of her hidden treasures.

The fantasy took place little by little. Mulder leaned back against the couch and slipped a hand inside his sweatpants to rub his swollen cock whilst his other hand cupped his sac through the soft fabric. The brunette was squirming like a wild cat under him as he pinned her to the four poster bed, her green eyes darting at him. He quickly handcuffed her, her arms stretched out on either side, leaving to his lust her chest, covered in night-black lycra. He began to lick at the offered neck, and his tongue went up to a fine and pointed ear that he started to tease. The short dark hair was silky and tickled his nose. He was brushing his body along the strong one, thighs against thighs, a similar hardness searching for his, and he heard Krycek's voice pleading, "Yes, Mulder, do me... Please, you caught me... Finish me, finish me, finish me..."

He stopped jerking off and opened his eyes in confusion. He looked all around him, but he was alone in the apartment. He realized his day-dream had slipped out of control in a way he couldn't understand. But he wasn't any less aroused. His hard-on had reached huge proportions, and maybe due to his past dream, he felt he could endure it for a good while before having to come. Shaking his head he closed his eyes and summoned the brunette again.

He couldn't find her anywhere. Krycek kept confronting him, his gorgeous beauty tantalizing and obsessing. Beauty? Yes, Mulder had to accept the fact. The Rat was everything a man might dream of having. Well, of being. Shit.

He rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt to erase the green eyes and the short dark hair and suddenly wondered at the likeness. This porn starlett he had thought of having a crush over, what did he find so hot in her? The story he could identify himself with easily, but most of the tapes he chose were similar, and lately he had turned to look preferentially for more androgynous girls. Brunettes with green eyes.

He looked down at his crotch, as if to ask it what it wanted precisely. With a sigh he wondered if driving his fantasy to its conclusion could put an end to this obsession. He had never dreamt of a man but of course, this was only fantasy here. He had fantasized over a lot of naughty scenes in his sex life, and it didn't mean he would ever act this way in reality. Whipping a girl in a fantasy was one thing; but he had never found a real abused wife to be a turn on, on the contrary. When you came down to it, his dreams were frequently filled with violence, but in every day life it just made him sick at heart.

He had worried for long over this dichotomy between his sex fantasies, and his attitude in real life, but noticing that the first hadn't the slightest influence on the second had freed his mind. So what if he indulged in a weirder fantasy for once? He would have all the time in the world to analyse it later. Right now his body was begging him, urgently.

With his usual honesty he decided to make it a full experience. A little voice deep in his mind told him it could be the one time in his life. He dropped his pants down and leaned back on the couch. He took hold of his cock that had softened a little, and his heavy sac. First he wondered if he should conjure a special scene. But he was afraid of reality interfering, and he prefered to let his "model" act by himself, so to speak.

He thought of Krycek in his casual attire, black leather jacket open on a dark t-shirt, black, well-worn jeans tightly sheathing his long legs, and he swallowed at the bulge his nemesis was sporting. As if answering his reaction the dream-Krycek bent his head to one side and smirked, "See something you like, Mulder?" The smoky voice caressed his ears and went right down to his groin. He shivered and felt his dick waking up. He made Krycek come closer and kneel down in front of him. He looked inside sea-green eyes that stared at him without wavering. "Want to touch me, Mulder? Or do you prefer to hit me?" Mulder frowned. No, he didn't want any violence between them. Not in the dream, there was enough of that in their real lives.

He shook his head and heard Krycek's low whisper, "Stroke yourself for me, please."

"Like... like that?" he answered, breathless, jerking his hard-on slowly.

"Yeeeesss..." Krycek was kneeling in front of him, but his voice was right in his ear, and he could feel the warmth of the mouth teasing his skin, even though he could see the lips moving in front of him. "I want to love you, you know that? I always did."

"Is that true?" Mulder said in his mind, his lips moving silently.

"Yes. You're so beautiful Mulder... Let me take you in my mouth, please?"

Mulder stretched as if to offer his genitals to his imaginary partner and closed his hand around the tip of his cock. Impossibly, Krycek went on talking clearly as he swallowed the Fed's dick, tonguing the underside at the same time. "Hold your balls, Mulder. Stroke them. Squeeze them, very lightly; you know I'd never hurt you."

"Yes, Alex..." Mulder answered aloud as he complied.

He went on jerking off and feeding on the sight of Krycek. His former partner had disposed of his jacket, and his hands were pinching Mulder's nipples, a little hard but not to the point of being painful. Mulder looked at his cock sliding in and out between the swollen lips while the greenest eyes he had ever known were looking up at him, filled with maddening craving.

With his mouth full Krycek spoke, "Let me rub myself against you. You make me so hard, it's unbearable, please, Mulder..."

The Fed stretched one leg in front of him and his dream lover straddled it, his denim covered hard-on stroking against Mulder's bare flesh.

"Do you know what I'd like to do with this, Mulder?"

The older man moaned, "Tell me, Alex."

"I'd like to give it to you. You must be so tight. So hot. You'd crush me until I came inside you. I know you always wanted me to do it. Yes?"

"Y... Yes, Alex," Mulder repeated in a half-voice.

"But I can't take you, not now. You will have to do it for me. Will you? You know what I mean, Mulder? You do it sometimes, I know. Will you do it for me, please?"

Lost in his dream, Mulder bent a leg - the one Krycek wasn't straddling - and turned on his side to have better access to himself.

"This way?" he asked shyly.

"Yessss, Mulder," Krycek whispered. "Let me look at you while you're finger fucking yourself.. You're so beautiful... I want you so hard..."

Slowly, as if to please a real lover, Mulder rubbed the skin under his testicles and went further to circle his opening. He teased himself gently, and little by little his insistant touch helped him to relax, until he could slip his forefinger past his ring. He hissed but went on because Alex was staring at his moving hand with bright and sparkling eyes. He pushed his whole finger inside and reached his gland, sending a jolt of electric pleasure through his lower belly.

"Yes, Mulder, do it... Do it for me... Think it's me doing you... Just preparing you for my cock... And stroking you at the same time..."

After a little more stimulation Mulder was able to add a second finger but didn't dare to use a third one. He was jerking off at high speed now, and he felt the pleasure building inside his loins.

"Alex, please.... I want to come.... please..." Somehow he felt obliged to ask for the Russian's permission.

Krycek was everywhere around and inside him. His mouth chanting sweet things in his ear, his fingers thrusting deep into his ass and torturing his soft spot, his whole body rubbing against him, his hand stroking him to completion.

"Mulder, come now... Come for me, come with me... You're so hot, oh God, it feels so good, you're so tight, you're crushing me, I'm going to come inside you, please Mulder, come for me, pleasepleaseplease...."

He felt Alex spasming violently along his leg and crying the Russian's name, he shot his own load at the same time, an endless stream of cum splashing over his belly.

Absent-mindly, he breathed, "Thank you, Alex..."

Mulder stayed for a long time curled on the couch, unable to regain his breath. When, at last, the erratic beating of his heart resumed its normal pace, he unfolded himself and stared for a while at the empty living room. The fantasy had been so vivid he was almost baffled at not seeing his former partner next to him. He stood up clumsily to go to the bathroom.

He had never had such a powerful orgasm in his whole life. But owing it to Krycek was... disturbing.

Even most disturbing was the idea that maybe he might have to resort to the same means to enjoy it again.

Krycek checked the street but it was perfectly empty. He knocked on the van door before sliding it open. The mobile unit was equiped with a full row of monitors and electronic devices. A short man in a thick wool sweater was sitting in front of them, earphones over his head.

"Hi Tony! You must be freezing in there. It's snowing hard now."

"Yes. The little heater isn't a real help, staying still this way for hours."

"Anything to report?"

Tony's eyes left the screens for a split second. "Not really. Ah, the camera at your special stopped for a while."

"Again? I should check it. For long?"

"No, Mr. Arntzen. About twenty minutes. Wait, it was at..."

His hands worked for a few seconds on the keyboard. "Here, from 00:23 to.... 00:50. The guy was sleeping before and after. He had some booze before going to bed, so I guess he just slept all the same."

"Probably."

"Anyway, it looks like he had got over the booze after that. What a session!"

Krycek frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You know what the other guys say, your special must be hot stuff! Not my cup of tea, so I'm not especially spying on him when he's jerking off. But the funny thing is, I didn't know he was some Dynasty fan."

"What are you talking about?" Krycek asked harshly.

"Well, he kept calling "Alex" when coming. I guess he's bearing a torch for Joan Collins. Good taste, he has. I must say that myself I..."

"Yes, Tony, I understand" Krycek gritted.

Dynasty. That old soap opera. He had had to swallow a pack of it during his training in American way of life, and he recalled the volcanic lady with a big mouth and insane clothes.

As Tony looked a little upset at his dry tone, he asked chattily, "She's always on the show? I haven't watched it for quite a while."

"Oh yes, Mr. Arntzen, she is. It's a never ending story, you know," he added, mocking himself.

"Right! Okay, it's already late, I don't want you to miss Christmas morning. You may go now, I'll take the watch."

"Yes? It's really kind of you, Mr. Arntzen. Julie and the kids will be very happy."

He gathered his things and, waving good bye, he left the van.

Krycek took the vacant seat and typed on the keyboard. "A hot scene, Mulder? With Joan Collins? Let's see..."

He rewound the tape to reach 00:50. The screen flickered and came to life. He himself didn't appear anywhere, but he would have been quite displeased if he had.. He saw Mulder in the same position he had left him, sound asleep, and his own erection made him flinch. He had walked for almost an hour before coming back to the van but cold and exertion had done little to relieve him.

He put the tape on fast forward and stopped when he saw Mulder sit on his couch. He inserted the earpiece into his ear and heard the Fed yawning loudly. He knew Tony had probably followed the scene in a detached way. He was an uncomplicated man and didn't appreciate hot scenes per se. He was just doing his job, noting unusual details, phone calls, etc. The Russian was glad of that - as well as for the man knowing him under an alias only. Mr. Arntzen had no first name to him.

Krycek played the tape and hit the rewind button when he caught the first "Yes, Alex". Mulder had said these words a few times when they were partners, without any innuendo, but he himself had dreamed for a long time of hearing them under completely different circumstances.

He played the scene over, hearing Mulder agree to whatever Alex's request was in a turned-on voice while slowly jerking off and rubbing his balls. The Russian's hand came unwillingly to his own crotch and caressed it with a moan. He watched Mulder stretching out one leg carefully, and his voice asking, "Tell me, Alex".

*What do you want me to tell you, Mulder?* Krycek wondered.

On the screen, Mulder accepted again whatever *he* had told him. Then his breath stopped as he saw his former partner turn to his side to show his most private parts.

Into the Russian's ear, the monotone shyly asked, "This way?" as if Mulder was talking to him directly. Krycek swallowed nervously.

"Yes, Mulder," he whispered. As if in a dream, he saw the Fed complying with whatever was expected from him, starting to finger fuck himself. His eyes were closed, his face flushed, even on the poor quality vid, and his whimpers were invading both Krycek's mind and flesh by way of the tiny earpiece. Mulder's moves increased in speed, he was jerking hard whilst fucking himself and was clearly on the edge of orgasm.

Krycek was rubbing his own cock through the denim of his jeans, unable to restrain himself at the sight and sounds.. When Mulder's recorded voice begged him through the earpiece, he moaned his authorization and saw and heard the Fed coming at once, shouting his name. His own pleasure exploded at the same time, and he fell back into the metallic chair.

A small whisper was barely audible amidst laboured breathing. He rewound a few seconds and listened closely. "Thank you, Alex," he heard Mulder say.

"Thank you too, Fox," Krycek said.

Krycek stretched and looked at his watch. It was half past two; the night was still young. He turned off all the survey devices after altering Mulder's last tape in a significant way. His final glance at the apartment 42 monitor had shown a very spent Mulder sleeping like a baby, softly snoring.

Krycek left the van after checking the ever-empty street. The snow had stopped falling, but the glittering carpet had begun to freeze, and his footsteps gave out a crispy sound. His breath was turning into a ghostly vapour. Holding his collar tight, he walked a few blocks to find his remotely parked car and drove towards Alexandria. The traffic-less streets led him to Mulder's in little more than ten minutes. He made a stop at an all-night coffeeshop to buy some muffins and croissants. With an inner grin he thought of them as a kind of peace offering.

He crept into the apartment, still silent apart the snoring of the dweller. He switched off the camera. The van equipment was off, but Alex Krycek never took any chances. That was what kept him on the good side of the gun. Most of the time.

Once in, he wondered why he had come. He couldn't wake Mulder up by saying, "Hey, I just saw you on the TV, jerking off and calling my name." That was not a way to induce a fruitful relationship. On the other hand he had little time to work out a way to remove the camera and put an end to the surveillance Mulder was subject to, but he had to find a very good reason. He did in reality have an excellent one but doubted it would fool the old men.

If Mulder could find the camera by himself... He had already detected the one in the ceiling. Of course that one hadn't been installed by Krycek. Anyway he had to tell Mulder about it, preferably before the Fed decided to shoot him! It would have been convenient to wait for a few weeks, involving the Fed into a new partnership, but time was running short; if Mulder began to shout Krycek's name loud at crucial moments, it would soon fall onto ears more clever than Tony's.

The best thing to do would be to leave a clue for Mulder. Not too obvious, or he would think of it as a trap; not to discreet, they couldn't afford the time. As Krycek was lost in his thoughts, Mulder's breath changed in tempo, and the Russian took a look at him. Christ! The man was gorgeous! His mouth was pouting as it had in the best days. His face had kept a touch of it's earlier flush, even though his last orgasm had been more than an hour ago. Suddenly Krycek felt as if the heated apartment was too warm, and he took off his jacket after laying down his breakfast offerings on the low table.

Next to the couch he dragged the chair he had come to consider as his and straddled it again, mimicking his movements of earlier that same night. He felt more at ease in his t-shirt. He wasn't in a hurry for the time being, and having let himself come in the van made his condition far more comfortable. He rested his cheek on his forearm and fell into rapt admiration of his lover. Almost-lover. Lover-without-knowing-it. He should invent a word for this very special situation, Krycek thought with a grin.

Then he yawned. He had had quite a lot of comings and goings in the past days and nights. In fact he hadn't found real time to get more than quick naps.

The even snoring of Mulder eventually lured Krycek into sleep.

The Fed rubbed his closed eyes and stretched languidly. He remembered it was Christmas and that he had the whole day to rest. Nobody was waiting for him. He had politely declined Mrs. Scully's invitation to lunch, pretending he was starting with a cold. This didn't fooled Dana, but she had pretended it had.. So he was in for a day with nothing to do. He opened lazy eyes to check his watch. A little past five.

Something amiss caught his attention. Looking towards his feet he saw a dark shadow in the dim light. With a shock he recognized Krycek. The Russian was straddling a chair next to the couch, his forearm on the back of the seat, his face on his arm, his eyes... closed. Mulder sat cautiously and searched for his weapon under the cushion. It wasn't there, and he swore silently. He remembered putting it on the kitchen table with the pudding and the Scotch. He had heated his pudding then returned to the living room with the warm plate and the bottle - forgetting the weapon in the other room.

He glanced at Krycek who, surprisingly, hadn't moved. Frowning, he moved noiselessly to the edge of the couch. He bent a little towards the young man and heard a faint snore coming from the peaceful silhouette.

Krycek was asleep. Disconcerted, the agent looked at his nemesis from head to toe and felt a wave of heat bathing him. The Russian was in t- shirt and jeans, his arms bare, the way they had been in his fantasy. Mulder rubbed his eyes a second time, thinking that it was another day- dream. It had been ages since he had had genuine pudding and expensive Scotch together, but he didn't remember having suffered induced hallucination then...

Yet the idea of having a half-naked Krycek sleeping at the foot of his couch could barely be anything else. He blushed as the word "half-naked" crossed his mind, but in his fantasy the Russian wore nothing under his jeans. Mechanically he glanced at the crotch generously displayed between the widely spread thighs. The bulge was less impressive than in his last dream, but it was more plausible, and very enticing.

Mulder sighed. The memory of his previous orgasm lingered. He tried not to think of it, but he was tempted to renew the experience. Surely he was dreaming. Usually he wasn't aware of it, but many people experienced these kinds of feelings, so why not him? If it was an hallucination, it was probably a sign of some internal disorder, for this time Krycek's figure looked extremely convincing.

The more he stared at the Russian, the more he felt the heat invading his groin. He stroked himself a few times, wondering at his stiffening cock. He had had an exceptionaly violent orgasm a few hours ago, and yet he now felt hard as a teenager. Could it have to do with this altered state of consciousness? If it was mental illness it could easily have been more unpleasant. If it was the pudding... He had better keep the box to remind him of the brand. He smiled in the dark. Krycek Sexy Christmas Pudding. Waooh.

He slipped a hand into his sweatpants and began to fondle himself. He felt ready for a long ride. He just hoped the dream-Krycek wouldn't mind. Right now he didn't see any obstacle to using his nemesis as a personal porn star. Thinking about it, he would be glad if any of the male actors were half as sexy as the Russian.

He summoned Krycek, tried to make him raise his head and open his beautiful eyes. He tried several times, but for one reason or another it didn't work. He frowned. An unyielding hallucination? The way his luck went, maybe Krycek would turn himself into a brunette burglar in lycra leotard. He grunted as he realized he prefered his fantasy to remain in Krycek shape...

He decided to push his luck. Sliding along the couch he reached the edge closest to the sleeping silhouette. He wondered how the hallucination wanted him but sent his hesitations packing. It was *his* fantasy, and it was for him to decide what he wanted. He licked his lips and bending forward a little he extended his free hand to touch a denim covered thigh. He felt shy at first and made his caress very light, but the feeling of the firm muscles under the thick fabric turned him on more than could possibly have dreamed. He pushed his hand towards the illusion's crotch and that appetizing lump.

Alex was sitting in a sauna. He couldn't see the walls. He was right in the middle of a sunny glade covered in snow, surrounding by tall firs, but he felt the heat of the sauna, and there was a pile of steaming stones. Mulder shook the wooden spoon and asked him if he should add some water on them. He merely nodded, feeling far too comfortable to voice his answer. Anyway Mulder didn't speak Russian and he couldn't give him complete instructions without the 302 he had forgotten on his desk.

Mulder poured half a bottle of vodka over the stones which began to melt like a sand castle, and Alex knew he had to gather them before they were lost. He used his towel to do so, but it wasn't enough, and he asked Mulder for his. Instead of helping him, the Fed handcuffed him to the wooden bench and straddled him, rocking his erection against Alex's. Alex wanted nothing more than to handle Fox, but his hands were trapped under his own buttocks, and he couldn't move. Fox's tail was dancing under his eyes and the red fur was tickling his nose. What annoyed Alex more, was that it prevented him from watching Mulder's cock enter him.

Krycek woke up to find himself face to face with Mulder. The Fed was wearing a sexy, dreamy smile. The Russian gasped at the hand that was rubbing his crotch. He closed his eyes again and tried to regain his composure. Where was he? Mulder's apartment. Fuck! He had fallen asleep! But Mulder's attitude didn't fit. Was he still dreaming?

"C'mon, Alex! Open your eyes... Open them for me, beautiful..."

Mulder's monotone startled him. Something was really wrong. He opened his eyes and stared at the Fed. Mulder's right arm was moving rhythmically in a way that left no doubt about his occupation. The man was jerking off, slowly but intensely, and there was no mistake either about his left hand, which was stroking Krycek's erection at the same pace.

"M.... Mulder? Are you all right?"

"Mmmm, yes, Alex... You keep coming here, do you?"

Krycek shook his head, unsure of the meaning of Mulder's words.

"Last time I obeyed you, and it was soooooooooo good, hmmm..." Mulder closed his eyes.

"Huh, last time?"

"Yeah, you know... You said you wanted to take me... I did all you wanted me to."

"Mulder... Are you drunk?"

It was the only explanation Krycek could come with.

"Drunk? Who, me?" Mulder seemed shocked. "Oh no! I only drank a little Scotch late evening."

Krycek glanced at the bottle, but it was still half full.

"But there's something else I wish I could drink... Do you want me to drink *you*, Alex? I really wonder how it would be to take you in my mouth, you know? Don't go thinking I could do this with any other man, I'm not like that. Naaaah. But when I dream of you, it's soooo sweet."

Without waiting for his hallucination to answer, Mulder slipped to the ground and undertook to open Krycek's jeans. He found the buttons harder to undo than he had thougt and began to protest. "You should already be naked by now."

The Russian wanted nothing more than to indulge in Mulder's fantasy; but he couldn't take advantage of his former partner when he was out of his mind. With somebody else he wouldn't have cared, but not with Mulder. He racked his brains to find a solution, to bring Mulder to reality without ruining the atmosphere, and it was difficult to think with Fox trying to make his way inside his pants.

Eventually he took hold of Mulder's hands and brought them to his mouth. He kissed them gently, inhaling the musky scent. "Mulder. Mulder, listen to me."

"Yes, Alex," said the Fed with a serious look.

"Mulder, who do you think... I mean, what do you think I am?"

"You are Alex."

"Yes, but which Alex? I mean, shit, what Alex? Do you think I'm really here?"

Mulder frowned. He wasn't sure of what Krycek wanted from him.

"Mulder, do you think you are dreaming?"

Mulder frowned and nodded. Then he shrugged. "As long as you're here, Alex, I don't care, you know."

"But Mulder, what about... What if you weren't dreaming? What if I was, huh, really here, in your apartment?"

Mulder thought for a while then shook his head. "Naaah, you wouldn't. The real Krycek comes now and then, but it's for his work, you know. Sneaking around. He wouldn't care about what I think or want. He would already have knocked me out, see?"

"Isn't it you who kick his butt usually?"

"Hmm, yeah, right."

"Why do you think he never answers you when you hit him, then?"

"Because he's a coward."

"Are you sure? Don't you think there's another reason?"

Mulder gave a good deal of thinking. Then he frowned again. "Do you think, he could care?"

"And if he did, what would you think he'd do?"

"Hmm, help me?"

"Yes, I'd like to." Mulder tried to free his hands as he wanted to go on playing with his Alex but Krycek wouldn't let go of them.

"So if I was really there, and you weren't dreaming, and I didn't try to hit you, but just to help you, what would you say about it?"

Mulder began to think that his fantasy wasn't as funny as the previous one. There was too much talk. He voiced his recriminations loud and concluded, "I just wanted a good fuck, you know. I haven't been laid for, oooh, I forget. Too long."

Krycek sighed. "There's nothing I'd like better. Then," he resumed patiently, "Let's say I am the real Krycek, you're not dreaming, I came to help you, and I wished the same thing as you. What would you say?"

Mulder thought furiously. "I'd ask for proof."

"Ah, now, that's my Mulder. Come on, I have something to show you..."

Krycek stood up and dragged the Fed to the wall facing the couch. He showed him the tiny stain in the moulding. "Look at this spot up there; it's a camera. I disabled it, but we must remove it as soon as possible."

Mulder stared at him suspiciously. "And how come you know that?"

"Because *I* put it there."

"You son of a bitch!" Mulder shoved him against the wall.

"Ah, you don't think you're dreaming now?!"

"No, Krycek, I'm wide awake and... what?"

"You're wide awake, and you *feel* me the way I'm feeling you. Does it look like a dream too?" The Russian slowly ground his erection into Mulder's.

The Fed blushed but didn't let go of his nemesis. Krycek was suddenly tired of playing. "Listen, you're not dreaming, I'm here to help you, believe it or not. And I'm hard as hell, and I want you as much as you want me."

Mulder remained silent; he still had his arm across Krycek's throat, but he wasn't trying anymore to block his windpipe. He stared into the deep green eyes. He read only desire in them, together with a trace of fear. But something inside him whispered that it wasn't beating Krycek was afraid of. The Russian continued his slow movements, rubbing his hardness desperately against Mulder's crotch. The Fed felt his own arousal grow mercilessly, and lowering his eyes, he looked at Krycek's mouth. The wet lips were softly shining in the dim light, half open, showing a perfect row of flashing teeth. Krycek's breath came in short gasps.

The older man leant and captured the warm mouth, tearing an almost painful moan from the Russian, who raised his arms to embrace him. He answered the kiss like a starving man, receiving Mulder's tongue as it began a delighful exploration. Lips and teeth started a sweet fight-and- conquer game, each man determined to taste the other's tender spots. Eventually Mulder pushed Krycek's arms away to kneel down. He got a strong grip on the jeans-covered hips and stuck his face in his former partner's crotch, rubbing his cheeks, mouth, nose and chin all over the hardness he craved for.

The Russian shoved himself into the caress, holding Mulder's chestnut head, his knees shaking with desire against the other man's chest. He thought he wouldn't be able to take any more, when Mulder let go of his hips to concentrate on his fly. The Fed's long fingers worked hastily on the button and zipper. With a harsh cry of hunger he violently pushed the black pants and boxers down to mid-thigh, revealing the comfortable hard-on already weeping for him. He frowned comically, "I imagined you without undies..."

"It's freezing out there, Mulder," Krycek remarked in a strangled voice.

The Fed didn't answer, lost in admiration. As rough as had been his previous moves, he now looked almost shy as he confronted the object of his dreams. Tentatively, he touched the burning cock with the tip of his fingers, causing it to jerk towards his flushed face.

"Mulder, please... Touch me... Really touch me, don't tease me..."

The older man closed his hand around the swollen member that thanked him by getting even thicker and harder. He began to jerk Krycek off slowly. Soon he changed his mind and held the reddish cock against Krycek's naked belly; he placed his closed lips right under it, in the hollow between the tightened balls. Krycek swore loudly and pushed himself into the kiss. His hands were tearing mechanically at the chestnut strands.

Deeply aroused by the salted, musky scent that was Alex's, Mulder opened his mouth to lick and nibble gently at the uneven skin protecting Krycek's balls, whilst his hands began rubbing the warm cock.

Krycek was continuously pleading, his pelvis bucking rhythmycally into Mulder's hands and face. "I can't take any more, please, Mulder! I have to come, oh God! Finish me, please, finish me, finish me, finish me..."

Mulder never wanted to leave the warm nest he was nuzzling at. He managed to hold Krycek's member firmly, letting the Russian jerk off and reach his completion. He felt hands holding his head tightly as the cock in his hands was spasming violently, the cum splashing over his cheek and neck. He went on gently pressing his tongue under Krycek's sac to empty him, listening to choked cries of pleasure.

When Krycek's trembling subdued, Mulder continued undressing him. He undid the velcro strips of the heavy leather boots and helped the Russian out of them, then finished lowering the black pants to the ground. Krycek stepped out of them and gently dried Mulder's cheek and neck with his own t-shirt. The older man stood up and drew him by the hand.

"Come here," Mulder whispered. He dragged the young man to the couch, and they both fell on it. Krycek pinned him against the leather, spreading the Fed's legs open with his knees. He leaned over Mulder, stroking his ribcage, biting at the nipples through his t-shirt, rubbing his lower belly against Mulder's cock. He didn't know where to begin, and Mulder laughed in delight.

Krycek raised himself on his arms and took a good look at Mulder. He sighed deeply, then he grinned. "So, *how do you want me*? Since it seems I'm your hallucination..."

The Fed looked up at him with widening eyes. "I'd like you to... to..."

"Yes?"

"Would you take me?"

"Tonight? I don't think so."

Mulder pouted and Krycek couldn't resist the appeal of the swollen lips. He bent over the handsome face and softly kissed his lover. He kept brushing the warm lips as he explained, "You're not ready. You never did it, not this way. I don't want to hurt you. And I'm sure you haven't got any lube here. Or if you do, it's a very, very old one, that won't do. Am I wrong?"

Mulder frowned without pulling away from the lips that were tasting him conscienciously. "Hmmmnooo." Then, "Don't you have some in your jacket?"

Krycek bursted into laughters. "Aaaah no, sweetie. I don't usually carry that kind of thing with me. Do you think I should?"

"What's so funny? Me not having anything is quite understandable, but you?"

The Russian stared at the still-pouting face. "Me? I don't get laid each time I step outside. What do you think?"

Mulder blushed before answering, "I think than half of the world must be following you panting and drooling."

"Yes? Then *I* must be more interested in the other half. The Mulder half, I mean." He nibbled on the Fed's lower lips and resumed, "And I haven't any lube with me now, because I didn't think Santa Claus would bring you in my stocking tonight. Each year you're at the top of my list, but he never complies. Stubborn old bastard. Till today."

"So you won't take me?"

"Not tonight. You deserve so much, Lis. When it happens, I'll make it your best memory, I promise. Not now, even though I'm going to make you come hard tonight," Krycek breathed in a silky voice that went right to Mulder's cock, making him moan and raise his hips against the Russian's. Conscious of the power of his words, Krycek straightened, straddling his lover. Slowly he took off his t-shirt begging, "Fox, I want you to touch me. I want to feel your fingers pinching my nipples. Please, Fox..." He offered his bare chest to the Fed who obeyed immediately. He lifted both hands and took hold of the hardening tips. "Harder, Fox," Krycek hissed.

Never letting go of the green depths, Mulder pressed the tender flesh, twisting and tearing the way he enjoyed it himself. He saw the wave of pleasure bathing the young man's features. "This way, Alex?" he asked.

"Oh yes, please, don't stop, go on," Krycek whispered. His hands went down, sensually rubbing his chest before reaching his taut belly muscles, then his long, wide spread thighs, arching in the older man's touch.

"Don't you think you're too warmly-dressed?" Krycek claimed quietly. "T- shirt," he ordered. He moaned at a last pinch on his nipples before Mulder allowed himself to be disrobed. Then he bent over his prey and his teeth took hold of the waistband of the sweatpants, lightly scratching the sensitive skin of his partner, who raised his hips with a cry of need. Pulling on the fabric he slowly bared Mulder's hard-on which popped upright to meet his cheek. His hands quickly dropped the pants down his lover's legs and he rubbed his stubble along the displayed cock. He laughed softly as Mulder shouted in agony.

Krycek stared up at Mulder's contorted face, the green-amber of his eyes filtered by the long eyelashes, and very slowly he moved his lips on the swollen flesh; going up and down several times, before tenderly kissing the heavy sac. His clever hands were running all over the older man's thighs, alternating firm squeezes and light scratches, favouring the tender skin of the inside. His teasing fingers were flying all around the most sensitive parts without ever reaching them, and Mulder began to beg.

"Alex, Alex, please, touch me, please, Alex..." The prayer went on and on as the Russian deepened his exploration. Eventually his curved thumb chose to scrub the skin right under Mulder's scrotum.

"Fox, I'll never have enough of you... You smell so good; I could come just by nuzzling you this way, hmmmm." Krycek had slowly begun to lick the grainy skin, and his tongue was laving the small area surrounding his final target. "It will be really hard waiting for the right time, knowing I'm going to enter this tiny opening of yours... Stretching you until you can receive me... Filling you... You make me so hard and so thick and so hot... I can't imagine how you'll be able to take all of me... Yet you'll do it, Fox, you're going to take everything I give you... Do you hear me, honey?"

"Yes, Alex, oh yes," Mulder wept. His hands were pulling desperately at Krycek silky hair, not knowing if he wanted the young man to stop the teasing or to go on forever with his attentions. Krycek was holding Mulder's cock flat on his belly with one strong hand and keeping his balls uplifted with the other. The Fed couldn't move his legs, trapped as they were by the Russian's body, and all his consciousness was concentrated where Krycek's tongue had decided to play. Suddenly he felt it on his ring, pushing firmly. The tip entered him and withdrew immediately, to go on with the maddening teasing.

"Alex, please, please, do it to me!"

"What do you want, Fox?" Krycek asked wickedly. "You must tell me. Ask me, Lis. Say it..." He blew jokingly on the wet ring.

"I want... I want your tongue... your fingers... inside me..."

"Hmm." Krycek seemed to think about it. "But you're not really open enough for me, see? If you want me to take you this way, and make you come hard, so hard... Do you want me to make you come this way, Fox?"

Mulder's head was twisting on the couch, and he was unable to voice a coherent answer.

Krycek raised himself. "I want you wide spread for me, Fox, do you hear me?"

"Hmmm," moaned Mulder. Alex's hands took hold of his legs, making one rest on the back of the couch and bending the other over his lover's chest. Mulder heard Krycek moving something and the sudden light of the table lamp blinded him for a short while. When his eyes became accustomed to it he saw the Russian had placed the lamp as a spotlight, leaving nothing of his intimate parts hidden. Krycek resumed his place between his legs and smiled at him.

"You're beautiful, Fox, you know. I could stay here looking at you for hours.... I think I'm going to, in fact. You're so sweet... So new... Tell me, you're sure, nobody ever touched you this way?" he asked, gently rubbing two fingers around the puckered opening. "I can't believe it," he went on on a conversational tone. "Or this way?" His tongue came flickering against the ring, eliciting new cries from his partner. "Oh, God, I want you so much!" he shouted, unable to tease Mulder any longer.

"I'm going to enter you with my fingers, Fox." His tone was serious now. "Will you come for me? When I'll order you to do so? Tell me, Fox..."

"Oh yes, Alex, please, don't tease me, it's too hard to bear! I want you now, I'll do whatever you ask, but, please, please, Alex, please, take me..." Mulder begged.

"Yes, honey." He took firm hold of his lover's cock and stroked it slowly a few times. "I'm going to prepare you with my tongue. Then I'll fuck you with my fingers until you come, I promise. Try to relax." He drank in the sight of Mulder wide open for him, the cum dripping from the swollen head of his cock, the burning member in which his heartbeat was running mad, the tightened balls, and where his widespread legs met, the soft skin surrounding the virgin hole that waited for him. Alex permitted Mulder's hands to push his head down into the warm crevice, and his pointed tongue willingly entered his lover.

Alex's tongue moved slowly in and out, pressing inside Mulder's ring, stretching it little by little, tasting the silky skin. The Fed felt it changing shape, by turns an arrow pointing deeper inside his hole or thicker, pushing against his circle. He was a mass of moans and whimpers when Krycek judged he was ready for more. The Russian withdrew with soft kisses and rapidly sucked his forefinger.

"Moy Lis, put your foot on my shoulder. You'll be more comfortable." One of his hands grasped at a round cheek to hold it apart, stretching the offered flesh. His mouth went down again to kiss the damp perineum, and he nibbled softly there, listening to Mulder's complaints.. He rubbed his cheek against his lover's balls while positioning his finger at the tight entrance.

Krycek raised his face to look at Mulder's, over his cock. He wanted to engrave in his mind his lover's features when he was about to penetrate him for the first time. He called Fox's name and their eyes met. He pushed carefully against the tight hole and felt it giving way slowly. "Fox," he whispered. "My sweet Fox..." The circle of flesh squeezed his finger, and Mulder groaned at the intrusion. "Shhh... Relax, Fox. It's all right. I won't hurt you. I'll do it as gently as you do it yourself."

Mulder nodded and relaxed his muscles. Drowning in Alex's deep green eyes, he felt his lover's finger push in a little more and begin an in- and-out slow motion. With each stroke the finger invaded him a little deeper, circling now and then to help him open wider. He realized Alex was talking to him.

"Time for a second finger, babe. You're doing well... You're tight, but you're so warm... so soft... you feel like velvet... Breathe, moy Lis..."

Mulder obeyed and felt the finger he had become accustomed to withdraw; then it was back but the second finger forced him more suddenly, sending a burning shiver through his whole body. He shouted.

"Hmmm, Fox... You're really tight... I wish I had some lube here." Krycek leant down to add some saliva to his fingers before going on, keeping up the pressure till his two fingers had totally disappeared inside Mulder's narrow asshole. "Fox? I'm going to stretch you even more."

Mulder begged for mercy, but Alex was adamant. "It's nothing. Nothing compared to what you'll experience when I'll drive my cock inside you... Or did you change your mind? Maybe you don't want me any more?" he threatened.

"NO, no, Alex, I want you, oh please..."

He began to stroke himself, but Krycek hissed, "Don't touch yourself, Fox! I'm not done with you, not by any mean!"

Mulder looked down at his tormentor, who was staring at him, a feral sparkle in his green eyes, darker now. Sheepishly he laid his hands down at his sides. He sniffled, "I'm so hard, Alex, please!"

"Shh, Fox, let me do this. It's going to be so good, I promise. Do you trust me?"

"Yes, oh, yes Alex, please..."

Satisfied Krycek prepared his ring finger with a little precum he'd gathered from Mudler weeping cock. He put his mouth down on his lover's member and begin to kiss it tenderly as he pushed his grouped fingers inside the spasming hole. He refused to listen to Mulder's sudden shriek and was fully sheathed in a few strokes. Rotating his hand he started soon to seek his lover's prostate, and the pain protests turned into pleasure cries. Mulder's cock hardened as never before, and Krycek closed his mouth around it.

"Oh Alex...!" Mulder pushed himself in his lovers throat and on the fingers that possessed him deep and hard as the continuous stimulation drove him mad. He was ready to come when the Russian suddenly pulled away and blew playfully on his wet cock. The long fingers withdrew as well from his widened hole.

"ALEX!" the older man shouted in despair, feeling that he had been abandoned on Heaven's threshold.

"Sorry, baby, but I want you too much. It's too hard... Try to calm down a little and it will be even better. I can't take you tonight, but what about the other way?"

Panting, Mulder shook himself in an attempt to clear his blurry mind. "The other way?"

"Yes, Fox... Don't *you* want to take *me*?"

Mulder looked at Krycek's shining eyes. "We... we have no lube... You said..."

The Russian sighed deeply. "Yes, but I'm not a virgin like you... And even if I haven't, huh, practiced for a while, I know how to relax. Of course, you're... quite impressive." He laughed softly. "But I want you so much... Hmm, Fox, don't you want to come inside me?" he purred in a seductive tone.

"I... I'd really love it, Alex... But, I'm not sure," Mulder stammered, "How do I do? I never made it with a... with a man..."

"I know. It doesn't matter, Fox. On the contrary, I'd be proud to be your first shot..." Krycek laughed again. Then he turned serious again. "Let me do it. Just let me do it, and everything will be fine. Okay?"

Mulder nodded energetically.

Krycek helped his lover to stretch his legs fully, rubbing the thighs to relax his tense muscles, then he made Mulder sit, his back resting comfortably against the couch. He straddled the older man and leant, asking for his mouth. He devoured him, his tongue licking at the even teeth, sucking at the inner cheeks, tasting the silky flesh. He kissed the big nose and bathed the Fed's face with kisses.

He straightened and patted his lover's thighs. "Open them wider, moy Lis. I promised I'd make you come fucking you with my fingers and we're both supple enough to achieve that," he grinned.

Holding onto Mulder's shoulder, he raised himself a little. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, relaxing his entire body before seizing Mulder's member and guiding it to his own entrance. He reopened his eyes and looked deep into his lover's. "Look at me, Fox... I want you to look at me while you're entering me... Please, Lis...", he whispered.

If Mulder had wished to close his eyes, he couldn't have done at that moment. His hands resting on Krycek's chest, he drowned in the twin green pools hypnotizing him. He felt the tender ring of muscle pushing against his oversensitive glans and softly giving way. His tip was exquisitely pressed, his corona strangled in an agonizing way, as Krycek moaned. The Russian sat completely in a fluid move, engulfing Mulder's cock inside his velvet channel.

"Alex!" Mulder shout in delight. "Alex, Alex..." He stroked the young man's chest with both hands.

Krycek smiled and bent again to kiss the gasping mouth. "How does it feel?" he asked sotly.

"Oh Christ, Alex! This is incredible... Alex...", he breathed in his lover's mouth. "God, you feel so good, so good...", he repeated.

"Moy Lis, you're so big... Hmmm, I knew you would take me that deep... I knew it," he breathed. Krycek began to move slowly, up and down on Mulder's cock, hissing at the way his anus was mercilessly forced open. "You're really, really big, you know that? Hmmm, Fox..." His mouth nestled against the Fed's neck, licking and biting at the offered throat.

"Alex... I'm very close... I'm going to come..."

"Yes, hold on, just a second, baby..." The Russian kissed the tip of Mulder's nose. "I want to keep my promise..." He sucked on his fingers then turned away a little, stretching his arm to reach between Mulder's spread thighs. He found the tight rim still ready for him and pushed his fingers as deep as he could inside his lover's ass. He had merely the time to stroke Mulder's prostate once; the stimulation was too much for the older man who shouted Alex's name loudly as he came hard between the burning walls that were crushing him. Krycek kept riding the imprisoned cock to milk his lover, relishing in the richness of Mulder's orgasm.

Eventually he pulled his fingers out from inside his lover... Mulder was so spent he barely moaned. Krycek waited for a long while, lost in the sight of the Fed's flushed features. He was kissing him soflty, licking his cheeks, nibbling at his swollen lips, insisting on the lower one he found so enticing... He felt Mulder's cock softening inside him when his lover opened glazed eyes and focused slowly on him.

"Alex... I'm dead."

"Yes, dead and buried. Inside me," Krycek chuckled.

Mulder lowered his eyes to the still erect member of his beautiful nemesis. His hand slipped along Krycek's muscled belly to take hold of his still raging hard-on. "Oh, Alex... you haven't come... Hmmm, we should take care of this... Are you still my private hallucination, Krycek?" he asked in a wicked tone.

"As long as you wish, baby. What are you thinking of?"

"Would you jerk off for me? I want to look at you while you're touching yourself..."

Alex stretched sensually. His mouth brushed the flushed face.

"I'm the only one working here, huh?"

"Alex..."

Krycek kissed the soft lips and whispered, "Everything you want, moy Lis..."

His hand closed around his hard cock and began to stroke slowly from the head to the base, pulling at the skin protecting the dark red tip. His long fingers began rubbing gently at the slit, gathering a few drops of precum and holding them to his lover's lips. Mulder opened his mouth obediently, sucking at the creamy fluid.

"I've dreamed so often of seeing my dick between your lips, sliding into your sweet mouth; I kept imagining what it would be like to feel your tongue licking the underside of my cock, licking my head... Honey... I want to see your eyes when my cock slips past your throat..." Krycek's hoarse, silky voice sent thrills along Mulder's spine.

"It's so... so big, Alex..."

"Is this a problem, Agent Mulder?" At his lover's shy grin, Krycek added, "You'll take it all the same, Fox... In your mouth and deep in your ass... Soon..."

"I don't know if I'll be able to do that... But I'll try, I swear."

"I'll teach you..." whispered the Russian. His hand came back to his cock and started to jerk off faster. He cupped his balls with his other hand, arching into his own touch. "Fox, pinch my nipples... Yes, harder, harder, please", he begged.

Krycek was purring. His eyelids were heavy but he fought to look through his thick lashes at Mulder's face. The older man was drinking in the sight of Alex losing it. "Fox, I'm going to come... Oh Fox, I'm so close..."

Mulder twisted at the painfully erected nipples and commanded, "Give it to me, Alex! Come for me, now!"

Krycek shouted his lover's name out loud. The Fed blinked as the cum spurted load after load over his belly. When the Russian's orgasm subdued gradually, Mulder drew him to his chest, holding him tight and rocking him tenderly. His mouth rested in the silky, short dark brown hair, humming a soft tune.

"This is the most incredible dream I ever had," Mulder said quietly. "This pudding was magic." He moved his hips a little, feeling his own cock coming slowly back to life inside Krycek's sated ass.

Krycek raised a sleepy head and tightened his muscles to squeeze the hardening flesh. "It's not a dream, Lisyonok. Santa Claus tucked you into my fire place, remember?"