Leaves threatened to fall from the trees. Crimson, gold and red, they
nearly glowed fluorescent in the afternoon sunshine. A gentle breeze caught
them, causing them to lazily dance on their stems.
It was warm here in the sunshine, despite the time of year. A lake was to
the east, hills rising from it, their rounded edges rolling up toward the
sky like a sea-monster. Shadows fell down their north side into the trees,
deep green fading into black.
Something caught Mulder's eye. He looked up and saw a dark hole in the sky.
Stars shone through and a planet loomed in the distance. The land around
him rumbled. He stood his ground, wavering with the earth, mesmerized by
the hole in the sky.
Then something blinked and blinked again and a large, black ship came
through the hole. It was coming right for him. Mulder didn't move. It
loomed overhead, its motors humming in sequence, like it was breathing. A
bright light engulfed him and he tried to move his arms, but they wouldn't
budge. He struggled and tried to talk, but couldn't find his voice. He
started to panic.
The light was gone.
Suddenly, he was reclining back in his office chair looking up at the
ceiling. The pencils stuck in the tiles danced as if they were snakes. His
office violently rumbled and the bright light was there again...
The crack of leather and smell of gunpowder penetrated the haze. Something
metal brushed his cheek.
// Am I still dreaming?//
He blinked his eyes open. He was in bed. Krycek was sitting on the edge,
his gun grazing Mulder's chin. The bedside light was on.
"Wakey wakey."
"I think I'm having a nightmare," Mulder mumbled, though he knew he wasn't
sleeping anymore.
"I assure you, I'm no dream." Krycek leaned forward and smiled, brushing
the barrel of the gun against Mulder's lips.
Mulder wrinkled his nose. "You ever clean that thing?"
Krycek frowned and tried to push it past Mulder's lips. "Maybe I should get
you to clean it for me."
Mulder knocked the gun away and sighed. "What do you want, Alex?"
Krycek put his gun away then smiled. "Just checking up on you. You missed
a fight."
"Bullshit."
"I called you three months ago and left a message on your cheesy answering
machine. You didn't show up, so I called again. You didn't call back. I
called you the next day at work and you threatened to arrest me for
harassment. You could have just said no, I would have gotten the hint."
"How rude of me."
Mulder swallowed and tried to contain his anger. What else had Fletcher
fucked up in his life? Even after all this time, he was still cleaning up
that asshole's mess after that freaky body-switching episode last November.
"I couldn't wait around for you to get your shit together. I have business
of my own, you know. Now I come here and there's all this..." Krycek made a
grand sweeping gesture with his arm. "What gives?"
"I haven't been myself lately."
Krycek leaned over him, studying him. "No, I guess you haven't."
Mulder scrubbed a hand over his face then looked at the clock. It was two
in the morning. He gave a hrmph and sat up in bed.
"It's been like this for months. You just noticed now?"
"As I said, I've been busy."
Mulder nearly breathed a sigh of relief. At least Fletcher hadn't fucked
Krycek.
He hoped.
But Krycek was lying about being around. Mulder had seen him at the damn
hospital the night Skinner nearly died. He'd chased him into the parking
garage for Christsakes. He knew, though, that even if Krycek was a double
crossing cocksucker, he never lied about their fights.
"Busy fucking with Skinner and those nano-diodes."
Krycek snorted. "You're changing the subject. The point is, Mulder, you
missed a fight." Krycek moved closer, a feral gleam in his eye. "You
forfeit a fight and you still have to give up your reward."
Mulder shook his head. "No way, that's not fair!"
"It's plenty fair."
Krycek ripped the covers off of Mulder revealing his yellow pajamas. He
frowned at them.
"I wasn't myself. Literally. I didn't know you called. I wouldn't miss a
fight."
"Excuses, excuses," Alex murmured. He reached out and caressed Mulder's
thigh, but his hand was slapped away.
"Fuck off, Krycek."
Krycek pushed Mulder back into the bed with his left arm and leaned down.
Mulder was immobile against the waterbed.
"I'm always 'Krycek' when you're pissed at me." He licked his lips.
"What's the big deal? You would have lost anyway."
"Fuck you!"
"Aaaah, that's it! You just want to be on top. Maybe next time." He raised
an eyebrow. "Maybe not."
"You're an asshole."
Mulder still struggled against Krycek's arm. Now he knew why he hated
waterbeds. He couldn't get enough leverage to get off of the damn thing.
The mattress bulged up around him, holding him captive. Earlier in the
evening, the bed had looked so warm and inviting. It had beckoned him like
a siren to a sailor. He knew he shouldn't have moved from the couch.
Couches were much safer.
Krycek gripped Mulder's crotch with his free hand and squeezed. Mulder
stopped moving.
"And you're horny."
Blood filled Mulder's cock at a painful rate. Yes, he was horny, but
principle was at stake here.
"You're imagining things."
"I don't think so." Krycek grasped the growing bulge more firmly. "How
long has it been, Mulder? Last time I saw you was what? Four months ago?
It's at least been since then."
"How do you know?" Mulder gasped.
Krycek squeezed Mulder's nearly fully erect cock harder as his answer.
Mulder whimpered out loud. Krycek was right. While his body had enjoyed
many secretaries, waitresses and half of the clerical staff at the Pentagon
last November; Mulder had no conscious recollection of what had actually
happened.
It always amazed Mulder how strong Krycek's fake arm really was. He
squirmed against the hand holding him down. The 'waves' he produced just
immobilized him further.
Krycek leaned in close. "You through analyzing this to death so we can get
on with it? I know you want it, Mulder, you just have to convince yourself
of that thought. I'm not leaving here until you get it." He gave another
squeeze.
Mulder finally let out the moan that had been building up inside. He was
giving up too easily. Krycek would definitely use this against him in the
future.
Krycek smiled down at Mulder, lust in his eyes. He moved his hand off of
Mulder's chest, letting him breathe again. He caressed the buttons on
Mulder's pajamas and frowned. Then he reached inside his leather jacket and
pulled out a knife.
He held it up and inspected it before showing it to Mulder. "You know I
can't undo buttons that well."
Krycek sliced each pearly white disc of plastic neatly off of the yellow
fabric. He pulled the pajamas apart, revealing Mulder's chest.
Mulder moaned as his chest was caressed with the flat blade of the knife.
Krycek had this done to him before and knew he loved it. There was always
that danger of being cut; of Krycek's wrist twisting just enough to cause
the sharp end of the blade to...
He arched up as well as he could as the fresh fire of pain ran across his
chest. Krycek always waited until Mulder was fully aroused to cause him
real pain. It was so much better like this. He sighed as the blade was
sheathed in Krycek's jacket and looked down, expecting a wide gash. It was
merely a scratch.
Krycek stood back and shrugged out of his jacket then undid his leather
pants, stroking his cock as it hung from the opening.
Mulder licked his lips as he saw Krycek's half-hard cock.
Mulder sat up and took off his ruined pajama top. He reached out and pulled
Krycek's pants down a little more. He replaced Krycek's hand with his own,
caressing the hardness.
Holding on to Krycek's hips, Mulder gradually maneuvered himself out of bed
and knelt before him, taking his cock in his mouth. If Mulder hadn't missed
this so much, hadn't missed him so much, he would have resisted just a
little bit more. But this was heaven. He couldn't admit that to Krycek,
though. Couldn't say that he loved being on his knees swallowing his cock,
sucking the precum that leaked from the tip until it exploded in his mouth.
Mulder knew he was a slut, and Krycek probably did, too. It was one reason
Mulder didn't arrest him right now for the Skinner incident (among other
crimes). If he was locked up, Mulder wouldn't have this. He needed this.
But neither of them would admit their real needs to each other, nevermind
their faults and weaknesses to each other. Instead, they played that out
when they fought.
Krycek moaned. Mulder sucked harder and kneaded Krycek's ass with his
hands. He looked up and saw Krycek close his eyes and lean his head back.
With one fluid movement, Mulder pulled his mouth off of Krycek and yanked
his legs forward, causing him to fall backward onto the carpet. Before
Krycek could reach for his knife still in his jacket, Mulder had his Sig out
of his bedside table drawer and pointed at his head. He may like Krycek's
cock, but putting up a good fight was sometimes more important.
Krycek struggled in Mulder's grasp and swore at him as he was pinned to the
ground.
"You're a sore loser, Mulder."
"Just a little payback."
Krycek rolled his eyes.
Mulder knelt on Krycek's arms. When he was in position, he stuck his hard
cock through the slit of his pajamas and bumped it against Krycek's lips.
"C'mon. Suck me."
Mulder pushed it into Krycek's open mouth, but suddenly stopped. Krycek had
his cock between his teeth.
Mulder started to sweat.
"Krycek, don't even think..."
Krycek's mouth closed slightly. "Put the gun down," he mumbled around
Mulder's cock.
Mulder kept his gun trained on the spot between the green eyes.
"Down!" came the garbled command again.
He put his gun to the side and prayed Krycek wouldn't bite hard. He gasped
as Krycek's mouth closed a bit more. It was just enough to put the fear of
God into Mulder and make him yelp in pain. He pulled back and looked down.
There was no blood, but there was a ring of teeth marks on it.
"Asshole!" He climbed off Krycek.
"Just a little payback."
Mulder swung his fist, but the punch was caught mid- air. Then he was being
flipped over onto his stomach. A pair of his own handcuffs were suddenly
around his wrists.
"I know you're not going to make this easy for me, so I'm just going to nip
it in the bud."
Mulder was cuffed to the leg of the chest of drawers. His pajama bottoms
were pulled down and wrapped around his ankles. He was pulled up on all
fours. He struggled, but couldn't release his bonds.
"Just take it, Mulder. You've had it before."
"That's not the point!"
"I don't care."
Mulder heard a flip top open, then felt cool slick squirt between his legs.
Krycek massaged the gel around for a short time, then started to push his
cock inside.
Mulder sucked in his breath. It had been a long while since he felt this.
He had missed it terribly.
Kyrcek leaned over him and started driving in and out. The cotton of
Krycek's sweater caressed his back. He felt Krycek's hot breath on his neck
and heard his moans. Mulder was moaning as well. He was tired, though and
his arms couldn't him up for long. After a few minutes, he slumped down on
his stomach. Krycek adjusted his position, but never withdrew. Mulder's cock
fucked the carpet, the fibres rough against the sensitive skin. But as long
as it was friction, he didn't care.
Krycek breathed into Mulder's ear for a long time, fucking him fast and
slow. His leather pants made a slapping sound as they stuck and unstuck
from the back of Mulder's legs. Finally, he was about to come. He
increased his pace and moaned loudly, coming hard before collapsing to the
side.
Mulder humped the carpet until he was spent.
The cuffs were undone and Mulder sat up. He had that out of body feeling he
got when he was exhausted. It was just before three in the morning. He was
going to be damn tired tomorrow. He looked up at the bed, its warm covers
calling him again. He untangled the pajama bottoms and pulled them up. He
was about to climb back into bed when Krycek grabbed him and kissed him long
and hard.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"You're still an asshole."
"And you're still a loser."
"I'm tired, Krycek. Can we banter another time?"
Krycek released him and he crawled into bed.
"Lock the door on the way out, will ya?"
He was asleep before he could hear an answer.
Alex stood there and watched Mulder fall asleep.
He knew if he waited long enough to visit Mulder about that missed fight,
he'd be so horny that he'd give it up without much of a struggle.
He caressed Mulder's hair for a second and turned away. He got to the door
of the bedroom and stopped. Before him lay the living room. The new
furniture, the carpet, the damn ugly new wave lamp in the corner wasn't
Mulder. He'd been right, he really wasn't himself those months ago. Krycek
had broken in one night and watched someone who didn't act like Mulder fuck
two women in that god-awful waterbed, smacking them on the ass, yelling
"WHO'S YOUR DADDY?!"
No. Mulder had not been himself that night.
// I wonder who, or what was really in his head?//
Alex turned around and went back to Mulder. He got his knife out of its
hidden sheath, pulled back the covers, and pricked the bed with the tip. He
reached down and felt the rubber mattress with his finger. It was wet.
He re-sheathed the knife then bent down and kissed Mulder on the forehead.
Then he turned the lamp off and left the room for good.
THE END
Prick
by Nicole S
The sky was the kind of blue you only got in the fall. That deep periwinkle
without a speck of white from horizon to horizon, and if you looked straight
up, you'd swear it was deep navy.
