Title: Incubus/Succubus

Author: Elektra Pendragon

Fandom and Pairing: X-Files, Mulder/Krycek

Archive: Yes, if you want it.

Disclaimer: You know what belongs to you know who, this was just a wild idea out of hand. I don't know much about X-Files, just Krycek.

Summary: Krycek gives Drunken!Mulder a wakeup call he'll never forget.

Rating: NC-17, explicit non-con m/m sex.

Note: This hasn't been edited since I wrote it; eventually this interlude will become a part of a bigger fic.

Incubus/Succubus

by Elektra Pendragon

incubus

He came, stalking like a wolf, quiet as a spirit, into the anonymous hotel room. The sleeping occupant did not stir, sleeping the sleep of the well inebriated. The oppressive heat of the midsummer night followed the spirit into the room, making him sweat under his leather jacket. The sleeper, too, was sweating, but from a different kind of heat; the salty droplets coated his naked skin in a sheer sheen of glitter and plastered his hair to his forehead in slick spikes. He was fully erect and twisting against the sheets in his dreaming. Not even the click of a gun safety was enough rouse the typically light sleeper from his midnight visitation.

"Just distract him a little," is what his taskmaster had said. "Keep him away SL 42." So Alex Krycek had come to distract Agent Mulder, only now, he couldn’t remember why. "Oh yeah, that’s right," he thought, "if I don’t, then we both die." First Mulder for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, then Krycek for not keeping him away. Krycek took a deep breath of stale air to calm himself, but it was a mistake. The scent of an aroused Mulder hit Alex like a physical blow, throwing his step off balance.

He stumbled against a shoe left next to the bed and only his instincts kept him from falling on top the man in an uncontrolled heap. As it was, he was leaning heavily over the sleeping frame, sex-heated breath warming his face as his arms disappeared into the pillow on either side of Mulder’s head. His every muscle froze as he waited for his target to wake.

Mulder didn’t wake to the bed jostling, only moaned to his dream lover. Alex moved his gun hand away from Mulder’s head, placing his weight more on his left arm. The move caused the pillow to buckle heavily under his weight, bringing Mulder’s head with it. Like a cat, Mulder rubbed his cheek against Alex’s inner wrist, humming deeply in his throat.

How many times had Krycek thought of being in this same position, other circumstance? One hundred? Two thousand? Too many to count? He wasn’t sure, and had little enough spare blood in his brain to keep him alive, let alone contemplate the mysteries of the universe. When a hand began to rub his knee where it knelt on the bed, Krycek was lost. He had been told to distract the Agent, and though this was probably not what they had in mind, it would do. Gently for fear of waking his target, Alex extradited himself from the bed. Mulder moaned out a protest when the soft skin escaped his touch and his brow furrowed, but he did not wake.

Krycek stripped off his clothing with record speed and stealth, leaving them pooled at the end of the bed. His weapon he left on the bedside table behind the phone, within his reach but out of sight of the other man. Mulder’s weapon was loaded and waiting on the small table on the far side of the bed. It took him more time to ease onto the bed than it did to get undressed as he stopped after every movement to be sure Mulder didn’t stir, but once he was lying along side Mulder, nearly touching, he wasn’t sure what he should do.

He knew what he wanted, what he’d wanted for a long time, but how much could he get away with before Mulder woke and realized what was going on?

Mulder was lying on his back, his erection still alive and hungry. With small touches, Alex ran his fingers from the juncture of his hip to his throat. When the eyes didn’t flutter open, he splayed his fingers across his slick chest, feeling the strong heart beat against his ribcage, the steady lift and fall of his breath. "Now or never," Alex whispered to himself, then leaned forward. His lips found Mulder’s slightly parted and dry, so he licked them then kissed them tenderly before pulling away to gauge his reaction.

There was little response other than a quickening in his breathing, but he didn’t wake either. Encouraged, Alex slipped down, nipping at the stubble on his chin and neck, then sucking at the line of skin below his midnight shadow. He stopped before he left a mark and moved on, covering the sweat-sweetened skin with his lips and tongue as he made his way down Mulder’s chest. By the time he reached his groin, both men were breathing hard and Alex had a pretty good idea about what he wanted to do with Mulder now that he had him where he wanted him. And it most definitely would "distract" the errant investigator long enough to prevent him from finding the answers waiting for him in SL 42.

He withdrew his kisses and stared down at his ex-partner. Mulder was writhing against the bed, lost in his dream and Alex’s tactile stimulation. His cock bounced against his stomach as he moved to increase contact with the phantom lover. When Mulder’s hands grasped his hips possessively, Alex pulled them away and laid small kisses on the pads. "Not yet, baby. I’ll make you feel so good." Sleeping Beauty merely moaned again.

Alex held both Mulder’s hands in his own as he looked around for something to use as a lubricant. Inside the drawer was a complimentary bottle of hand lotion. Alex unscrewed the top and sniffed at it. Lightly floral, but he’d used worse. Squeezing a generous portion on his hand, Alex gently encouraged Mulder to roll onto his side. The white globes barely glimpsed in the dark room were tempting to Alex, but he restrained his desire. One day he would know what it is like to be buried deep inside that gorgeous ass, but when that day comes, Alex wanted Mulder to be awake, willing, and begging for it.

Leaning back, Alex reached behind himself to find his entrance. He shivered as he smoothed the hand lotion around the tight opening, then moaned when he slipped his fingertip inside.

Working one handed, Alex prepared himself while smoothing a generous amount of lotion over Mulder’s erection. He couldn’t wait long enough to properly prepare himself, and didn’t want to chance Mulder waking up before he fulfilled one of his own dreams. Satisfied that they were both as greased as they were going to get, Alex laid on his side and turned his back to Mulder. Using his hand to guide Mulder’s cock, he backed up until he could feel the blunt pressure of his erection against the tight ring of muscle of his ass. Breathing out with a contented sigh, he pushed back. There was pressure, then with a pop the head pushed inside. Together, the two men moaned.

Mulder’s hand reached out and covered Krycek’s hipbone, startling the man momentarily. He stilled completely, biting his lower lip as he controlled his breathing. It was very difficult when Mulder’s fingers were caressing his skin, skimming temptingly close to the line of hair running from his navel to his groin. Slowly craning his neck, he could see Mulder’s eyes still closed tight, his countenance a vision of hungry pleasure. Whatever he had drank to make him sleep so deep must have been some damn good stuff.

Relaxing his backside, Alex pushed back again, maneuvering another two inches inside. It had been a long time since he’d done this with a waking partner, and the lack of proper preparation made the penetration painful. His ass burned, but it was a good pain, like the beatings he’d suffered at the hands of the interminable FBI Agent. Anything he received from Mulder was accepted like a benediction from God, be it a slap, a right hook, or a smile of pure contempt.

Krycek released Mulder’s cock, pushing back a little more with a tilt of his hips. There was a sensation of acute pressure, his senses telescoping on the point of entry, then he felt something inside give way. Alex hissed against the sudden stabbing ache and knew that he’d ripped from the invasion. His hand clasped Mulder’s on his hip, reflexively entwining their fingers as he road the wave of pain. It was an agony he knew too well as one accustomed to being taken by force, but not even the damage to his colon could stop him from reaching his goal this night. Alex was not going to let something like a little blood--as long as it was his--ruin what could be the single most important night of his life. If he had to suffer to know what it was to be filled by Mulder, then so be it.

Whimpering in spite of himself, Alex let go of Mulder’s hand and brought his own to the back of the unconscious man’s neck, pulling him forward as he pushed back. He twisted, half impaled on the column of dream-hardened flesh, to relieve some of the pressure on the intestinal tear and inadvertently pressed on his prostate gland. The shuddering pleasure erased most of the pain, and instinctively he bucked, his stretched hole swallowing the rest of Mulder’s cock. The two men’s moans mingled in the stale air, one filled to breaking, the other consumed totally.

Alex could feel Mulder’s harsh breath on his cheek. He twisted again, feeling the thick stiffness shift and slide inside him, as he pulled himself up by the hand around Mulder’s neck to lick at his lips. Alex could feel his chest slick against his back, the wet hair tickling against his skin, the nuzzling of his balls against his stretched butt cheeks. If Mulder woke up at that moment and killed him, Alex would die a happy man.

"Oh, Mulder," he whispered against the lips that had haunted his dreams for years.

As if in answer to his need, Mulder moaned into his mouth, becoming an active partner in the experience. Before Alex could think, thick lips were devouring his mouth, and a large warm hand was gliding over his stomach. And then Mulder began to thrust.

Arching his back into it, Krycek bent forward, pulling Mulder with him as he changed the angle of their bodies. Bursts of color exploded in the corners of his eyes before he reluctantly tore his lips from Mulder’s and gasped for air. Alex wrapped both his arms around his (waking? sleeping?) lover’s neck. Mulder nuzzled against his nape, taking up the rhythm and responding to Alex’s silent directions. The men fell into a steady gait, Mulder wrapping his arms snugly around Krycek’s chest, squeezing his breasts and pinching his nipples. Alex felt as if he were the one dreaming, loosing his hold on reality in the grip of indescribable pleasure. Closing his eyes, he imagined Mulder was panting his name, whispering in his ears the things he wanted to do to him instead of grunting sleepily.

This was a night he would never forget.

succubus

Mulder was dreaming of a red-haired nymph dancing through a summer’s woods. Her short locks glittered in the surreal foxfire. The gun in her hand too glittered as though it were covered with diamonds.

Gun?

Before his dream-mind could grasp hold of the inconsistency--this was, after all, just Wet Dream #13, wasn’t it?--the weapon disappeared behind a small tree stump. The nymph moved closer, her steps silent in the calm night air. Her clothes were nothing more than thin strips of translucent gauze that revealed more than concealed. When she was within reach of his hands, the inconsistent musk of leather wafted from her creamy skin. Not her usual smell, but it excited him nonetheless.

He tried to pull her into his arms, but she danced out of his reach again and again, merely gracing his skin with her quick touches and kisses and pulling away before he could return the caresses. Mulder was slowly going insane with need. He felt he would burst apart when she held onto his reaching hand and laid butterfly kisses on the pads of each finger.

Dream-skipped ahead, Mulder was now on his back on a bed of thick, spongy moss. The fiery nymph was above him, stroking his hard penis with her small hands. And then she was on top of him and he was inside of her and she was so tight! and she smelled of flowers and God it felt so good!

Wakefulness came slowly and pleasantly to Fox Mulder. The feeling of her body sheathing his urgent cock followed him as his eyes opened. The forest was gone, but the nymph was still there, writhing and moaning at his thrusts. Her lips moved away from his before he was fully aware he was kissing her. He wanted to call out her name, tell her the things that lovers say, but Mulder was afraid he would then wake up and it would be over. His head was heavy and all he could think was the feel of her smooth skin and her tight hole.

Her face was turned away from his, so he nuzzled into the back of her neck, licking at the close-shorn nape and sucking at an earlobe when he could reach it. Her small arms, surprisingly strong, wrapped around his neck and held on as he thrust into her. Mulder thought he’d heard her whimper his name as he pinched her tiny nipples, but her voice was so low with breathlessness he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just his imagination.

In the pale light, Mulder could just barely make out the curve of her slim hips as she undulated against him. It was hot in the room; the air conditioner didn’t work and there was no breeze at all in the oppressive southern summer night. Their bodies ran with perspiration, filling the small hotel bedroom with the pungent scent of sex as they slid against, inside, and around each other.

When the starbursts began in his mind signaling his approaching climax, Mulder ran his hand down the slightly tapered side over the ribs and to the nest of curly hair, intending to bring her to orgasm with him. Instead of finding her clit, his hand came across something large and silky, hard and frighteningly familiar. He was too far gone to stop his own climax, but he howled his rage and completion while the thick male organ in his hand throbbed and spurted into his angry fist as they came together.

It was the most incredible orgasm in his life.

When he came back to himself, Mulder was panting against a well muscled back, feeling murderous despite the nearly overwhelming desire to simply fall back to sleep. Throwing off the slack arms from around his neck, he used a shaky hand to turn the face of his--rapist? seducer? demon lover? --into the sparse light where he could get a good look.

"Krycek!" Perhaps "demon" wasn’t that far off from the truth. The lying, murdering rat bastard had the audacity to look happy and completely sated. His pelt-like short dark hair was matted down with sweat, his heavy-lidded eyes half-closed with the exhaustion of their exercise, his mouth opened as he still struggled to regain his breath. "I’ll fucking kill you, you degenerate slime-sucking whore."

The rat only smiled dreamily, darting his tongue to wet his dry lips. "It was good for me too, Mulder."

Mulder snarled, digging his fingers into the delicate skin of Krycek’s neck. "I’ll give you three seconds to tell me why you are here."

Though close to being choked, Krycek didn’t even seem to be afraid of the eminent end of his short and pathetic life. "I thought that much was pretty obvious, lover." His voice was deep and startling intimate, rumbling through his narrow chest and into Mulder’s own. Like a cat being petted, Krycek purred and rubbed against his body.

It was as though his entire nervous system had shorted out with his common sense and the basic order of the universe as extreme pleasure hightened by his recent climax flowed through his viens like a silver river. Desperate to hold onto his control, Mulder closed his fingers, cutting off his tormentor’s supply of air. A few seconds of oxygen depravation ceased the sensual movements and fed Mulder’s growing fury. "Who fucking sent you? Did they tell you to do this, or was it all your idea?"

The younger man swallowed delicately when the force was lessened on his windpipe. Lessened, but not removed. "You can’t tell me you didn’t like it, Mulder."

"Like it!" he yelled. "You break into my room and...violate me in my sleep and you think I’m supposed to like it?" Mulder grunted, disgusted. "You’re even sicker than I thought, Krycek."

The odd angle he was holding Krycek’s head must have been painful after so long in the same position, but the assassin didn’t make a move to suggest it was anything but slightly annoying. "You say that now, but isn’t that your cock I still feel in my ass? What’s the matter, can’t get enough?" The lithe body shifted just right, vibrating through Mulder’s spine as he realized they were still joined, and he was rock hard again. His own body betrayed and disgusted him. As his grip on Krycek’s neck slackened further, the man twisted to plant another kiss on his tightly pursed lips and grind against his erection. "You are such a slut. How about one more for the road, huh baby?"

Rage and humiliation exploded in a primal yell as Mulder pull out of the offending body and dove for his nearby weapon. The rat bastard, though, was quicker, and before he could turn completely around, he was pinned on his back to the bed, a black gun pointed at his face. "Aww, Mulder, and I thought you cared," Krycek purred as he removed the clip from Mulder’s weapon and tossed it over his shoulder.

"What more do you want, Krycek?" In spite of himself, Mulder shivered beneath the naked body pressing on him, both more aroused and more furious than he could ever remember being.

The other man’s head cocked to the side, his lip pouting as he thought about it. "Just a kiss good night, baby, before I leave. Something to tide me over until next time." Before he could pull away, that pouting lip crushed against his mouth, sucking and biting at the skin and moving away before the FBI agent could bite him back.

Mulder snarled, baring his teeth like a caged animal. "I’ll fucking kill you."

"Before or after you fuck me?" He cut off Mulder’s comeback with a tap of the gun on his nose. "Besides, you already said that, and I’m still alive." Keeping the gun trained on the supine man, Krycek backed off his body and the bed until he was standing a few feet away next to his clothes.

"You won’t be alive for long." The intense fury was lessening as Krycek was no longer in close proximity, and it was replaced by an icy coldness that sat low in his belly. As he pulled on his pants, the experienced killer had no trouble keeping Mulder in his sights. It wasn’t really necessary; suddenly Mulder’s limbs felt heavy and a lethargy was overtaking his body. He couldn’t have moved fast enough to cause Krycek any problem anyway. It was as though invisible restraints kept him strapped to the bed, unable to act or react, simply to watch, disconnected. Cold.

Picking up his jacket and T-shirt, Krycek made his way to the door. It was a small room, so it was a short trip. He took the chain off one-handed, but paused before opening the door. "I’ll live long enough, Mulder. I’ll make sure of it." With a wink, the door opened and Krycek disappeared in a flash of florescent hallway light.

Trembling, nauseous, and exhausted, Mulder simply rolled over to the far end of the bed. He couldn’t keep his eyes open even if he wanted to. He simply wanted to return to the dream before he woke up in this nightmare. The room was suddenly too cold, and the previously discarded comforter was pulled close to his shivering body. Tears stung behind his lids, but he didn’t fight them off. The entire experience was too bizarre, even for an X-file. Too unreal.

"It was all a dream it was only a dream it never happened it was a dream nothing happened nothing happened nothing happened," he whispered over and over to himself, already half-convinced that it was all the fault of the cheap vodka he’d used to drink himself into a stupor. His whispered words continued until he fell asleep, the taste of his tears and Alex Krycek on his lips.

By morning, he was completely convinced that it never happened. The residual hangover and empty bottle only served to reinforce that belief. The semen stain also supported the nightmare/wet dream theory. Though the blood on the sheets, the disembodied shame lurking at the back of his mind, and the fact his clip was against the far wall contradicted it, Mulder wrote it off as another by-product of his drunken stupor.

Just the same, he stayed in the hotel bed, wrapped in the comforter in a vain attempt to keep warm. Despite the hundred degree heat outside, he turned on the heater to high. Scully would be arriving in the evening, and together they could check out the lead. Suddenly, he didn’t care if whatever secrets were hiding in SL 42 were gone by the time they arrived. For now, he simply wanted to be alone, to get warm, and to forget. But it was a night he would never forget.

For Fox Mulder, it was all just an awful nightmare.

And for Alex Krycek, it was all just a beautiful dream.

"...being basically sexless, because inhuman, [the demon] could turn itself into an incubus to lie with a woman and a succubus to tempt a man into carnal sin...Mostly such dreams are pleasurable; but if feelings of guilt and the terror of sin intervene, the phantasms take on a darker tone, and the dreamer enters the realms of nightmare."
Doreen Valiente, The ABC of Witchcraft.

END