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In the two weeks since I helped cover up a murder in my
apartment, I didn't hear from Krycek at all. I wasn't sure if I felt
disappointment or relief. The whole thing, Krycek's moves on me
included, had started to seem like a bad dream. How could
scrubbing a man's blood and brains off your leather couch while
his killer wrapped him up in one of your shower curtains seem like
anything but?
Last time I had a corpse in my living room, I hadn't been the one
who cleaned it up. I was just the one who'd dragged it down
here...
In the moments when I let myself remember that it had happened, I
hated myself for being relieved that Krycek was so good and
thorough at covering up crimes. No one would ever know what
had happened aside from the two of us.
The two of us... There was no "two of us," nor would there ever
be. Never mind that his visit had destroyed my enjoyment of
certain videos that weren't mine. Every time I started one, I saw
him, felt his lips and body against mine again, but I refused to let
myself jerk off to Alex Krycek. My traitorous body could suffer
with the rest of me.
So, trying not to think of sex, I was watching a musical comedy
instead of a stroke video. Reggie had introduced me to Danny
Kaye movies, since I never would have ended up with one on my
own. A protagonist who walks through a minefield of intrigues
and ever escalating disasters but still comes out ahead couldn't
help appealing to me. Add wit, Basil Rathbone, and an army of
midgets helping to save the day, and you had a demented good
time.
At the end of Danny Kaye capering madly with the midgets in the
woods during the "Never Outfox the Fox" production number, I
heard a key rattling in the lock. I didn't think much of it except to
wonder why Scully hadn't just knocked first. When Krycek
opened the door and closed it behind him, mouth quirked and eyes
gleaming like he had the most incredible prank in mind, I just sat
and stared for at least two minutes. He stood there waiting for me.
He had a key. To my door. As if he were someone I'd hand a
copy to in trust. He'd made a fucking key.
Finally, with my voice going into a higher register near a squeak in
my outrage, I asked, "What, picking my lock isn't good enough for
you anymore?"
He smiled widely and let loose his soft, velvety voice. It had
driven me insane when we were partners that I had to listen in so
closely just to make out his words. "I don't need to pick that lock
when I have a key."
As usual, he immediately started in with the double entendres.
Also as usual, at least lately, my cock responded like a trained seal.
While I sat there trying to come up with a response that could
begin to articulate my rage, he casually walked over to the couch
and slung off his backpack in one graceful motion, even over the
prosthetic arm. As he twisted, his leather jacket moved in a way
that let me see his guns, or at least two of his guns. You never
knew with him.
Whistling under his breath, he pulled a plastic shopping bag out of
the pack. I smelled chicken and rich sauce. "For you, Mulder.
You haven't been eating well lately."
"That smells like General Tso's Chicken."
"It should, because it is."
"Why would you get me General Tso's Chicken?" Even if I didn't
say it, he knew what I really wanted to ask.
He briefly glanced toward the ceiling.
"God told you I liked it?" I asked.
Krycek smirked. "I know from our surveillance files."
I wasn't aware of a decision to move. Everything went dark, and I
was flying at Krycek over the coffee table. Damn, it felt like
hitting a brick wall when I knocked him over. We rolled on the
floor with my hands around his neck. Something hit my face like a
hammer, and I came to with him still smiling in that incandescent
way, straddling me and holding a knife to my throat.
It just made me harder. Amazing how you could never hit bottom
on self-disgust; there was always further to fall.
"Bad Mulder. You have no idea what having you like this makes
me want to do."
I had some ideas. I didn't want them.
"Do you know what you're going to do?" Krycek asked.
"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."
"You're going to sit on the couch, eat the dinner I brought you, and
watch..." He glanced at the TV. "The Court Jester."
The idea of him being familiar with the movie just made
everything worse. "What if I won't?"
"I'm going to keep you pinned down on the floor. While I rub
myself up and down your"
"All right! I'll play nice."
"And I'll grip the base of your cock all the while so you can't"
"Stop! I give already." The thought of being even more sexually
tortured in Krycek's presence made a great motivator. Damn it.
"You have anything to drink in that bag?"
"Shitty American beer. You should like it."
He stood and made the knife disappear so suddenly that it could
have been a magic trick. Giving every indication of being
whipped, I peaceably sat on the end of the couch that hadn't been
covered by a dead man's remains two weeks back. I expected him
to sit nonchalantly on the end that had been, but he settled in right
next to me instead. I felt his warmth all down my leg.
"Dig in, Mulder."
For tomorrow we die? But I felt hungry despite myself and heaped
sweet-spicy chicken and rice on one of the plastic plates in the bag.
Krycek somehow balanced a plate on his leg and ate one-handed. I
had the urge to overturn it and take advantage, but he just looked at
me and said, "Don't even think about it." We ate the rest in silence,
finally chasing stray bits of rice with our forks while Danny
Kaye's Hawkins exchanged intricate wordplay with a slew of
characters who had their own agendas he didn't know of and who
meant him no good.
Alex eventually put his plate down and leaned against me, letting
his head rest against my shoulder. It wouldn't take long for my
arm to fall asleep from lack of circulation, but it also felt horribly
good to have him near. I tried not to understand how I felt seeing
such a smiling light in his face and eyes.
He brought me dinner, nonchalantly let himself in with his own
key, ate with me, then started to snuggle on the couch in front of
the TV. He was acting like...
He was acting like we were lovers.
"Do you have a reason for being here other than feeding me?" I
asked. Please let there be a reason.
He looked up at me in a way that said, "Why do you keep giving
me such wonderful opening lines?" He actually said, "That and to
tell you something."
"Well?" No answer from him. "Are you trying to drive me insane,
or is it just a pleasant side effect?"
"Definitely a pleasant side effect. Look, Mulder, in the next week
you'll face your own Vessel with the Pestle question. Two packets
of information will show up for you."
I decided to play along. For now. "Which one will have the brew
that is true?"
"One of them will be a real X-File, true brew, no strings attached.
The other will be the poisoned file, a fake case that will lead to a
trap if you choose to take it. You'll be able to see which is which
if you look closely. And you won't have to worry about
substitutions; I won't switch the Flagon with the Dragon for the
Chalice from the Palace or change which cup has the poison at the
last second."
Some days I really did feel like the hapless protagonist in a musical
comedy. "That's all you're going to tell me?"
"Yup." His forefinger stroked his neck lightly and almost absently,
drawing my attention to the bruises forming. I could see the shape
of my fingers on his skin.
"All this trouble, and that's it."
"Exactly. Hey, at least I didn't give you a stupid rhyme to
memorize to keep it all straight. I could have." He hadn't stopped
smiling and glowing since he'd opened the door; he had it turned
full-force on me now. I kept telling myself I was seeing smugness,
but it wasn't quite.
It was Alex Krycek with a pretty new toy whose string he could
pull.
And I was still aching, almost mindless with lust.
"And this all plays into your master plan."
"Of course."
He stood and shrugged the backpack on. "What are you doing?" I
asked.
"I have a job to do. You'll see me again sometime soon. Be good,
Mulder."
Daddy's going off to work. I somehow resisted the urge to giggle
as well as I resisted the urge to scream. My head hurt.
He kissed me. I think he meant it to be brief and casual, but he
ended up sitting astride my legs with the two of us trying to
breathe each other's air in a close dance of lips, teeth and tongues.
As he rocked against me, making little panting noises, I felt
something harsh and overwhelming gather at the base of my spine.
I was going to come in my jeans, and there wasn't anything I could
do but sit back and try to enjoy it.
But the bastard pulled away before I reached it and gave me the
same slow, sensual, feline rub of his cheek against mine he'd used
last time before he walked out, now whistling the tune to "Never
Outfox the Fox." If my brain hadn't been so scattered, I would
have tried to rip his throat out with my teeth first.
I saw his plan. Denying my attraction to him would only give him
another tool to use. He would frustrate me, mentally and sexually,
to the point of insanity, at which point I would pounce on him,
unable to comprehend why it was such a stupid idea anymore.
I couldn't let him get away with that. The bastard had even perved
The Court Jester for me! I had to make a plan of my own...
First, though, I'd have to jerk off before the pain killed me.
I needed payback. We would see who drove whom insane.
THE END
Libra Gemini |
6/1/99
RATING: R; M/K. If m/m interaction bothers you, pass on by. SPOILERS: none. SUMMARY: The mind games continue. FEEDBACK: Hell, yes. Feedback can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com DISCLAIMERS: All things X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and 20th Century Fox. The Court Jester belongs to Dena Pictures, Inc., Packwood Enterprises, Inc., and Edward Dukoff c/o Paramount. Danny Kaye, unfortunately deceased, probably belongs to his estate now. No infringement intended. Suing me would be a waste of time, since my descendants will still be paying off my college loans. Happy birthday, Janet! Imagine my surprise when I discovered that one of my favorite feedbackers shared my day... Thanks for giving Lucretia friends. Inspired by InfoSpace Daily Horoscopes (© 1999 Kelli Fox and Astrology.Net(TM)) found at http://pic1.infospace.com/_1_165483437__info/horo.html? Thanks to Ladonna for beta goodness. One of her comments inspired a line. |
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