Alpha Male
Crap
Author: Lycanthrophile (lycanthrophile@imadethis.org)
Fandom: The X-Files
Originally Posted 2002
Spoilers: Season 7
Disclaimer: I asked Santa for them for Chirstmas, but I got
a black, lacy thigh-hi full of coal instead. I guess that
means that Mulder and Krycek still belong to TenThirteen
Productions and the Fox Network.
Rating: NC17 for male/male sex
Summary: Mulder catches up with an old enemy and gets some
answers.
Word Count: 4,111
Notes: This story was originally published in Over eXposure by IIBNF Press.
Archive: Please inform me.
Mulder opened the door to the hotel room, keeping one hand
on the collar of his prisoner. A cursory glance around the
room assured Mulder that no one was waiting for him. "Get
in there," he snarled, shoving the handcuffed man in ahead
of him. Normally, he would have turned over any suspect to
the local FBI field office instead of keeping him in
personal custody. But this prisoner was no ordinary
suspect, so unusual actions were to be expected.
Alex Krycek stumbled ahead a few steps before regaining his
balance. He sat down on the only bed the room had. "Shit,"
Mulder swore. He had asked for a room with two double bed,
not a single queen. Mulder shoved Krycek back towards the
top of the bed. Ignoring the cold plastic of Krycek's
prosthetic wrist, as well as the trickle of blood from
younger man's nose, Mulder cuffed him to the headboard,
threading the chain between the rail at the top and the
spindles. Mulder placed the key to the handcuffs on the
bedside table, well out of Krycek's reach. Krycek half-sat,
half-reclined in sullen silence as Mulder phoned the front
desk.
"I asked for a room with two beds.... Isn't there anything
else available...?" Mulder hung up the phone in disgust.
Krycek settled on the bed, using one leg to push himself up
into a fully sitting position. "Afraid you'll give in to
your desire to ravage me, eh Mulder?"
Mulder shot him a disdainful look. "Don't flatter yourself,
Krycek."
"So what are you going to do with me?" Krycek taunted,
echoing Mulder's thoughts. "You turn me into the
authorities, even if I wanted to talk, I'd be dead before I
could, no matter how many G-men are assigned to protect
me."
Mulder said nothing, but looked around the room again. The
only other furniture was a cheap set of drawers, a mirror
bolted to the wall, and a table with two rickety looking
chairs. There was no way he would spend the night sleeping
in either one of them. With a small sigh, he removed his
jacket and folded it neatly over the rough upholstery. Soon
the tie joined it, as well as the dress shirt, shoes and
socks. The undershirt and the slacks stayed on.
He could feel Krycek glaring daggers at him, but he
continued to ignore his prisoner. "So what the hell are you
going to do with me? You going to keep me in the dark?" the
triple agent asked as Mulder turned down the covers on his
side of the bed.
Mulder stared at him blandly. Even when Krycek winced, as
if remembering how Mulder had punched him the last time he
asked that question, Mulder kept his face expressionless.
Mulder watched the toned muscles tense as he raised a hand.
"Yes," he said, flipping off the light switch. Mulder
settled onto his right side, his back to Krycek. He
couldn't help but grin when Krycek cursed under his breath,
realizing that Mulder intended for him to be cuffed to the
headboard the whole night without even the minimal warmth
of a top sheet. Eventually Krycek quieted down, and Mulder
allowed his eyes to shut.
He almost didn't feel the first shiver. Thinking it was
from the chill in the room, Mulder ignored it, telling
himself that Krycek deserved the discomfort. The second and
third tremors were accompanied by whimpering noises. Mulder
cracked open one eye as he looked over his left shoulder.
The triple agent was still asleep sitting upright. Krycek's
eyes were closed and his mouth was open. He was breathing
in short, harsh gasps when he wasn't making distressed
sounds. Krycek squirmed again, pulling his prosthesis loose
from his shoulder. A fine sheen of sweat covered the
younger man. Ruthlessly quashing his twinges of sympathy,
Mulder turned on the light, reached out, and shook Krycek's
shoulder. "Wake up, Krycek." Krycek gave a sharp yelp and
opened his eyes. He stared straight ahead, breathing
heavily. "You have nightmares?"
"What do you care?" was the snarled response.
Mulder responded by rolling onto his back. "Only because I
want a good night's sleep, Krycek. Are you going to have
those for the rest of the night?" If they were anything
like the nightmares he had, they would both be in for a
sleepless night. He wasn't thrilled when Krycek nodded
fractionally, face set in stone. "How do we stop you from
having them?"
"We don't." Krycek continued to stare straight ahead.
Mulder studied him for a moment, considering the fact that
Krycek hadn't made a single smart-ass comment since Mulder
woke him up. Unless he was off the mark, Krycek was
frightened by his nightmare. "What is it? Your arm getting
cut off? Being used by the oilien? Waking up in the missile
silo?"
"Just turn off the damn light." Krycek gritted through his
teeth. The younger man turned away, refusing to look at
him.
Mulder sat up. "Or maybe it's Augustus Cole? Duane Barry?
Melissa Scully? Maybe even my father? You know, the people
you murdered in cold blood."
Krycek growled.
"Of course, killing isn't the worst thing you've done,"
Mulder said in an almost conversational tone. "Those
nanomachines you infected Skinner with really did a number
on him."
Krycek's head snapped around. "Shut the fuck up!"
Bingo, Mulder thought. "Why Krycek, I had no idea your
feelings for Skinner went so deep. Were you so jealous of
the fact that Scully kissed him that you tried to kill him?
Or did you screw up and let him live by accident?"
Krycek squirmed back against the wall, partly to ease the
discomfort in his right arm. "Mulder, you have no idea what
the real objective was."
Mulder sat up, not caring enough to try to mask his
curiosity. "Then enlighten me, Krycek."
"The nanomachines weren't meant for Skinner. They were
meant for you."
"What?"
Krycek's voice held only clinical detachment. "Conventional
means of curtailing your activities were not producing the
desired results. You were supposed to be infected once the
technology had proven reliable in lab rats, but I pushed
for a human test subject before your infestation."
Mulder swallowed. Skinner had almost died a grisly death,
and if what Krycek had implied was true, it could easily be
his fate. "So why haven't I been 'infested,' Krycek?"
"Because I skewed the data. I backed off the controls just
after they reached fatal levels, then changed the program
to a repair mode, and said that the nanomachines had failed
to kill Skinner."
"So what does this have to do with your nightmare?"
"In my dreams, it's not Skinner on the hospital bed
flat-lining. It's you."
"And I'm sure it just broke your black heart. Was it a
nightmare because you didn't push the button?"
"You still don't get it!” Krycek sounded exasperated and
frustrated and Mulder couldn’t figure out why. “I did it to
protect you! I've done nothing but protect you since the
day I met you."
"Yeah, only in your mind."
"I shot Augustus Cole when I thought he was about to shoot
you. I kept you off Skyland Mountain. If you had
interrupted Duane Barry, he would have killed you."
"So you let Scully be abducted."
Krycek continued his litany, ignoring Mulder's accusation.
"The Smoking Man would have killed you if Bill Mulder told
you anything."
"Sure, Krycek. You really did me a big favor when you
killed my father."
"First of all, we both know I didn't kill your father,
although I hope to one of these days. Second, there was no
way to get you out of there. You were in danger, and you
weren't in any state of mind to listen to me."
"Thanks to the drugs you were putting in my water," Mulder
retorted. "And what about Scully's sister?"
"I did not shoot Melissa Scully. Cardinal was sloppy, and
should have waited to be certain it was the right mark. And
before you accuse me, it wasn't my idea to kill Scullly
either."
"Of course not. That wouldn't have been 'protecting' me."
"You don't know how many times I put my ass on the line for
you, Mulder. When the oilien took control of me in Hong
Kong, it wanted to kill you once we reached the U.S. It
didn't need you, but I managed to convince it to let you
live."
"Yeah Krycek, and then you exposed it to me in Tunguska."
"None of that was my doing! The camp commandant ordered the
test before I spoke with him. I was about to get us out of
there when you attacked me and everything went wrong."
The two men fell into a sullen silence. Eventually Mulder
shut off the light and settled back down onto the mattress.
He did not fall asleep. Staring into the darkness he
considered Krycek's statements. Each did have a ring of
truth about them, but could also provide convenient cover.
The answers came too easily, almost as if they had been
rehearsed.
There's no way to know for sure, Mulder mused. There was
also one incident Krycek hadn't mentioned, an omission that
Mulder found intriguing. "Krycek?"
"Yeah?"
Mulder knew he would never have a chance to ask this
question again. "What about that night in my apartment?"
"You lost your way. I was setting you back on course,"
Krycek answered in an offhand way.
Mulder shook his head once. "That's not what I'm talking
about."
"Oh." Krycek was silent a moment. He did not look at
Mulder. "That was an indulgence."
"You break into my apartment, ambush me, hold a gun to my
head, kiss me, and you call it an indulgence?"
"My orders were to anonymously deliver you the information
about Wiekamp Air Force Base. You weren't supposed to know
who provided it."
"So you disobeyed orders. Nothing out of the ordinary for
you. Why'd you do it?" Krycek's response was mumbled. "I
didn't hear you, Krycek."
"I wanted to see you."
"And you kissed me because…"
Krycek's words were carefully enunciated. "I wanted to
since I first met you."
"So you weren't feigning interest in me." There had been a
few surreptitious gropes, a few seemingly accidental
fondlings that could have either been inadvertent or clumsy
attempts at seduction. Flattered, attracted, and hopeful,
Mulder had held back from either encouraging or
discouraging Krycek until he could be certain his new
partner was trustworthy.
"No. Once my cover was blown, I knew I didn't have a chance
with you. I didn't realize until that night that you felt
the same way about me."
"Felt the same way about you?" Mulder said in puzzlement?
Maybe once, but he now hated the ratbastard for betraying
him.
Didn’t he?
"Mulder, I gave you my gun and turned my back to you! I
gave you the perfect opportunity to shoot me and all you
did was sit there. Every other time you've caught up with
me, you've roughed me up, but not permanently hurt me. It
took me a while to figure out that it was foreplay."
Mulder raised his eyebrows. "So you think I equate violence
with foreplay." Having Krycek bound and at his mercy
presented an interesting scenario in Mulder's mind.
"Violence, hostility, all that alpha male crap. Yeah, I
think you get off on it."
Mulder placed his hand on Krycek's knee, fingers splayed
wide. "Maybe I do, Krycek." The fingers slowly crept up the
inside of Krycek's thigh. "But then you keep coming back
for more. So what does that say about you?"
Krycek practically purred under Mulder's touch. "You're not
going to hit me first?" He spread his legs wider and tilted
his head back, exposing the white column of his neck.
Mulder grinned and slipped between his legs without
touching Krycek's body. Leaning forward, Mulder fastened
his lips on Krycek's Adam's apple. Krycek gasped and
squirmed, desperate for more of Mulder's touch.
Mulder slowly worked his way up Krycek's throat, leaving a
trail of kisses, licks, and bites. He followed Krycek's jaw
up to the delicate ear. Mulder flicked his tongue against
the lobe. Krycek arched up beneath him, seeking more body
contact.
Mulder sat back on his haunches. "Alex, you seem to be
overdressed."
He didn't miss Krycek's indrawn breath when Mulder used his
first name. "Get these cuffs off of me and I'll do
something about it," Krycek growled, jerking against the
restraints.
"Just because I want you doesn't mean I trust you." The
harshness of Mulder's words snapped Krycek's eyes wide
open. Mulder gave him a grim smile before lowering his head
to Krycek's taut neck. Slowly his tongue snaked out from
behind pouty lips to lap at the sweat slicked skin.
Krycek moaned and tugged against the cuffs. He looked like
an angel. A fallen angel, Mulder reminded himself as his
tongue licked across most of Krycek's neck. The trick would
be how to remove the sweat drenched T-shirt without freeing
Krycek... Mulder slid back up to Krycek's ear. "Alex,
where's your knife?"
"You frisked me, ahh," Krycek hissed as Mulder bit down on
the lobe, "and took all my guns, remember?"
Mulder blew gently into Krycek's ear, causing the assassin
to squirm. "I said knife, Krycek. Where is it?"
"Left jacket pocket. Oh god, don't stop," Krycek moaned as
Mulder resumed tracing his ear with a very wet tongue.
Mulder slid his hand across the hips of Krycek's jeans,
barely brushing the pronounced bulge. He was smugly pleased
when Krycek bucked violently at that near caress. Still
concentrating on Krycek's ear, he felt for the pocket and
extracted the switchblade. After raising it into Krycek's
field of vision, Mulder snicked the blade open and placed
the flat edge against Krycek's chest. Krycek shuddered as
Mulder drew the weapon down his torso and teased it under
the hem of his T-shirt.
The knife cut cleanly through the fabric - one slit the
center of the torso, and one along each sleeve. A hint of
panic entered Krycek's eyes and breathing when Mulder
worked on his left arm. Mulder set the knife aside and
began to spread the fabric apart. Krycek had closed his
eyes as Mulder's long fingers began exploring his chest.
Mulder could barely suppress a quiver at the sight of
Krycek running his tongue over his lips. He pulled back and
stripped off his shirt, his eyes never leaving Krycek's
mouth.
Their kiss started gentle with Mulder merely brushing
against the corner of Krycek's mouth. Enraptured with the
feel of Krycek's smooth skin, Mulder parted his lips and
licked at Krycek. Krycek turned his head towards Mulder and
opened his mouth, silently begging. Mulder, however,
responded by licking and nibbling all around his lips.
Krycek began twisting his head, nuzzling Mulder's face and
trying to work his lips onto Mulder's. Eventually Mulder
gave into Krycek's insistence and his own desire.
Krycek's mouth was a furnace. Mulder thought he would be
seared, if not consumed, by its moist heat. As their
tongues dueled for dominance, Mulder mentally smiled.
Krycek may have been restrained, but he was going to exert
what control over the situation he could. He would make
Krycek fight for every inch of ground he gained. Mulder let
Krycek plunder his mouth before mounting his own assault by
pinching Krycek's nipples.
Krycek arched up and howled more in surprise than in pain.
He settled back onto the bed when Mulder started to soothe
Krycek's nipples. Krycek gave soft, breathy sighs with each
swipe of Mulder's tongue. Mulder concentrated on the salt
taste of Krycek's skin, alternately kissing, sucking, and
licking the rosy nipple. Krycek continued to squirm under
Mulder's talented mouth. He wrapped a denim-clad leg over
Mulder's, reminding the FBI agent that both he and Krycek
were still overdressed. Pushing Krycek's leg aside, Mulder
sat back on his haunches. The crotch of Krycek's jeans
looked obscenely tight, and Mulder's boxers felt the same
way. Mulder skimmed out of his shorts. He gave Krycek a
shit-eating grin as he lightly stroked his cock, relishing
Krycek's growls.
Mulder toyed with the buckle of Krycek's belt before
removing it, admiring the slim waist while considering his
next move. He reached for the knife again. Tapping the flat
of the blade against his palm, he debated slicing along the
inside seams of Krycek's jeans, but decided against it for
fear he'd cut something important. Instead, he carefully
slit up the legs of the jeans to the waistband. With a
quick snap of his wrists, Mulder jerked away the cut denim,
baring Krycek's legs. Mulder grinned an evil grin when he
saw the damp spot on Krycek's cotton briefs.
Krycek dug in with his heels and lifted his groin,
offering. Mulder grabbed the left leg and lifted it,
causing Krycek's right one to slide down. Mulder shifted
the foot onto his lap, pulling the boot and sock off.
Elegant fingers teased up the bare arch. Mulder smiled as
Krycek shrieked and tried to pull his foot out of Mulder's
grip. Taking a firm hold with one hand, Mulder stroked
around Krycek's ankle before tracing up his calf. Krycek
continued to twist as Mulder followed his fingers with his
tongue. Mulder's fingers snaked up Krycek's thigh, combing
against the downy hair that grew thicker the further up he
went. He pulled down the cotton briefs, careful not to snag
the waistband on Krycek's cock. Mulder's eyes locked on the
drooling head, his mouth watering in anticipation.
Under his scrutiny, a drop of pearly precum beaded at the
head of Krycek's cock. With cat-like precision, Mulder
licked away the moisture, relishing the ocean salt
addictive taste of Krycek. Mulder looked up to see Krycek
toss his head backwards, thumping it against the headboard.
Deciding to put him out of his misery, Mulder began licking
the purple head, coaxing more fluid from it. Mulder then
swallowed Krycek whole. He felt his cock throb when Krycek
began a low, constant keening noise, broadcasting his need.
Mulder ignored it, intent on savoring the flesh he had
lusted for. He concentrated on the glans, making butterfly
flicks against it with his tongue before sucking hard.
Ignoring Krycek's warnings he was about to cum, he
delicately ran his teeth along the throbbing vein on the
underside. Krycek let out a noise between a moan and a
scream. Mulder barely had time to taste Krycek's cum before
it shot down his throat.
Only when Krycek's cock began to soften did Mulder look up.
Krycek's eyes were dilated and slightly crossed and his
expression radiated pure bliss. He watched Krycek close his
eyes and smile as he began to crawl up Krycek's body.
Mulder answered with his own smile before kissing hungrily
Krycek's lips. Krycek returned the kiss languidly, basking
in the afterglow.
Mulder sat up and reached for the handcuff keys and leaned
forward to unlock the cuff restraining Krycek's artificial
arm. His fingers then strayed to the straps holding the
prosthesis. When Krycek nodded his approval, Mulder gently
unbuckled the straps and removed it. Mulder stopped for a
moment considering the shackled right arm. Krycek grinned
widely as Mulder then unlocked it.
Mulder answered with a grin of his own. He then flipped
Krycek over and rechained his right arm low the headboard
in one fluid movement. He stroked down Krycek's back, a
hand coming to rest on a round buttock. "Just because I
want you doesn't mean I trust you," Mulder repeated in a
silky whisper as the hand tightened possessively. He then
smacked the asscheek in emphasis.
Mulder glanced around for something to use as a lubricant.
His eyes landed on the complimentary bottle of hand lotion
sitting besides the plastic wrapped drinking cups. It would
make his dick smell like lavender, but at this point he was
beyond caring. Mulder bounded off the bed, and was back
with the lotion almost before the bed settled. Krycek
twisted around, trying to figure out what Mulder was doing.
Mulder pulled Krycek's hips up and pushed a pillow under
him. He opened the lotion, grimacing slightly at the floral
scent, and shook some onto his fingers. Mulder placed his
index finger at Krycek's anus and pressed. Krycek's muscles
tensed, as if he was not expecting penetration, and then
relaxed. There was no resistance when Mulder added a second
finger and began to spread them. Mulder began scissoring
his fingers, and Krycek began moaning and pushing back
against him. Once he felt Krycek had been prepared enough,
Mulder pulled his fingers out.
His cock felt ready to explode. Mulder lightly coated it
with the lotion, afraid he'd shoot prematurely if he
touched himself too much. He placed himself at Krycek's
entrance, and was gratified when the assassin lifted his
hips. Mulder pushed hard, grimly smiling at Krycek's grunt.
The heat surrounding his cock was incredible. Mulder had to
hold still for a moment, afraid of cumming too soon. But
when Krycek pushed back against him, Mulder gave up on any
semblance of self-control. He began to thrust ruthlessly,
not caring if he tore Krycek while seeking his own
satisfaction. He began mentally chanting a litany, each
word timing with each stroke. ‘This is for killing Scully's
sister. This is for helping abduct Scully. This is for
making Skinner your slave.’ His hand worked under Krycek's
body to find his cock hard again. ‘This is for putting me
through hell in Tunguska. This is for killing my father.’
Krycek's ass began to spasm, and Mulder felt the tingling
build at the base of his spine. ‘This is for making me love
you.' His world exploded into white hot light. Mulder shot
his seed deep into the man he desperately hated and loved
and detested and wanted.
Mulder collapsed on top of Krycek, who was breathing
heavily. He worked the soiled pillow out from beneath their
bodies and flung it across the room. He lowered his head ,
placing his ear against Krycek's shoulder. Lulled by the
steady heartbeat, he was almost asleep when Krycek spoke.
"Mulder, the cuffs. Please?"
Mulder didn't open his eyes. "If I uncuff you, you will
leave while I'm asleep."
"I won't leave you, Mulder." For some reason, Mulder felt
that even if Krycek had lied to him about everything else
this evening, he wasn't lying about this promise. But it
was still with some misgivings that he reached for the key
and unlocked the handcuff.
Krycek stretched his arm, and Mulder more felt than heard
the sigh of relief. Telling himself that he wasn't being
apologetic, but not believing it, Mulder gently stroked
along the arm, helping restore circulation. Krycek wiggled
and rolled until Mulder was spooned into his back. Mulder
found it harder to keep his eyes open. The last thing he
felt was Krycek rhythmically stroking his thumb against the
inside of his hand.
There were no more nightmares, so he slept soundly. When he
woke up, he knew he was alone in the bed even before he
opened his eyes. He scanned the room. Fuck, he thought
bitterly. What the hell were you expecting? Him to make you
breakfast? Profess undying love? Berating himself for being
stupid, he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom.
After taking a piss, he came back into the main room to
take stock. The handcuffs were placed neatly on the end
table, The knife-cut clothes were still discarded on the
floor. And the prosthetic arm had been laid on the dresser.
Alex Krycek sat down on the bed and debated his next move.
Mulder's probably far away from here by now, trying to deny
what happened last night. If he were going to turn me in,
this place would be crawling law enforcement.
Krycek then noticed that Mulder had left him a parting gift
of sorts - the change of clothing Mulder always carried in
his car for emergencies. He replaced his artificial arm and
dressed as quickly as he could. Almost as an afterthought,
he picked up the bottle of hand lotion and placed it in his
jacket pocket. Not allowing himself to feel the pain at
waking up alone any longer, he stepped out into the morning
light to face the day and the curveball Mulder had thrown
at him. You wanted him. Now you've had him. Are you going
to be able to leave him alone? Or will you seek him out
like a junkie seeks his next fix?
He had no way of knowing that twenty five miles down the
road, Mulder was having the same thoughts.
The End
