Mulder sat up in the dark, unsure for a moment whether he was asleep or
dreaming.
He jumped as something crashed against his door hard enough to shake it in
its frame. He fumbled for the lamp, nearly knocking it off the end table. He
blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light.
"Mulderrrr..."
His own name, echoing in the hallway. Not shouted so much as howled, the
voice raw and desperate.
What the fuck?
He grabbed his gun from the coffee table and stood up, his heart pounding.
The door shook again and a frantic scrabbling ensued as though someone were
trying to claw right through it.
"MULDER!"
A shriek this time, tinged with hysteria. Mulder stopped cold, the hair on
the back of his neck standing up. Even raw and broken and screaming loud
enough to wake his most distant neighbor, there was no mistaking that voice.
Mulder edged toward the door. He cocked the gun, pointing it straight up as
he reached for the doorknob, which was twisting and rattling violently.
He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing in anger. On the other side of
that door was a rat bastard with a death wish. He took a deep breath and yanked
the door open.
Krycek was on him in an instant, panting and wild, his rain-chilled lips
smothering the curse that rose in Mulder's throat. Mulder stumbled backwards and
Krycek followed, grinding against him, his hand grasping at Mulder's crotch.
He smelled of leather and rain and sweat.
Mulder broke free and shoved him against the wall. Krycek fell against it
with a howl of frustration. Mulder slammed the door and then leveled the weapon
at Krycek, barely resisting the urge to smash his face in with it.
"Get the fuck off me!" he snarled.
Krycek stood, silver raindrops weaving down black leather before falling to
join the growing pool around his boots. He was soaked. Even his eyelashes
were wet, standing out starkly against his pale skin. Mulder watched him warily.
Krycek seemed to be unable to stand still. He kept moving forward even as
his chest made contact with the barrel of the gun, his chest heaving with each
ragged breath, his burning eyes fixed unwaveringly on Mulder.
Mulder shoved him again, harder this time.
"You touch me again and I'll put a bullet right between your eyes, you son of
a bitch."
Krycek moaned a little but moved back, biting his lip and wrapping his one
arm around himself, hunching forward as if in pain. He shivered, his haunted
eyes devouring the man who stood before him, his hair still sleep-tousled, his
finger on the trigger of his service weapon. Mulder cursed and shoved the
barrel of the gun under Krycek's chin. Green eyes opened wide.
"M-Mulder..."
"Shut up," Mulder hissed, his face inches from Krycek's. "I don't know what
you're doing here, Krycek, but you're about two seconds away from leaving in a
body bag."
Krycek caught his breath. Mulder found himself watching a single raindrop
thread its way down Krycek's cheek. It rolled slowly over ashen skin until it
reached the corner of his mouth.
That mouth....
Mulder cursed and ground the gun harder into Krycek's jaw. Krycek pressed
closer to Mulder even as he grunted in pain. His eyes seemed to be eating up
his face, almost glowing, lit from within by some mad unquenchable need.
His lips barely moved, the words breathed more than spoken.
"Fuck me."
Mulder's eyes widened and he stepped back. He didn't know what he had
expected Krycek to say, but it sure as hell wasn't that.
"What?" he snapped, feeling his face grow hot.
Krycek moved forward, trying to close the gap between them. He was panting
again, running his hand over his chest and belly, dipping down to his crotch,
drawing Mulder's gaze there, to the hard cock straining the wet denim. Mulder
took another step back, gripping the gun like a talisman. He gaped at Krycek.
"Fuck me, Mulder," Krycek said, his voice dark and dangerous. "I need it."
Mulder felt his own cock stirring and resolutely ignored it. Maybe he was
dreaming after all, he thought even as he kept the gun trained on Krycek. He
was horny, that was all, and his subconscious had put together this fevered
little offering for his viewing pleasure. Alex Krycek, soaked to the skin,
standing in his living room, panting like a wanton slut and begging to be fucked.
That was it. A dream. He'd wake up in a minute, wet and sticky, flushed with
embarrassment like the teenaged boy he'd once been, sneaking down to the
basement to wash his sheets in the middle of the night.
Krycek certainly looked like a wet dream come to life. His clothes molded to
his long lean body, those red, swollen lips parted, his hand roaming over his
flat belly and up to his hard nipples, pinching them through the nearly
transparent white cotton. His desperate cock pressing painfully against his black
jeans, the musky scent of arousal coming off him in waves. The way he
constantly fidgeted, shaking, barely able to control his arousal.
Mulder glared at him. "No, thanks. But feel free to go fuck yourself."
Krycek tossed his head angrily.
"You think I want to be here, Mulder?" he demanded, his eyes flashing. "I
didn't ask for this! Just listen to me-"
"No, you listen to me, Krycek," Mulder bit out. "You actually think I'm
going to fall for this little act of yours? I don't know what you're on, but -"
"Neither do I," Krycek whispered darkly.
He slipped his leather jacket off and let it fall to the floor. Trembling,
he held out his right arm, his wounded eyes never moving from Mulder's face.
Mulder saw the angry red puncture mark in the tender hollow of Krycek's elbow.
His eyes drifted down to the rope burn around the slender wrist and he looked
away, his jaw clenched. "The Smoking Man did it to me," Krycek continued,
his voice quavering. "I don't know what it is, but...God...I n-need it, Mulder.
I need to be fucked." He looked down, his throat working. "Please," he
said, his face contorted with pain, the sound of himself begging almost more than
he could bear.
"I'm not running a stud service, Krycek," Mulder said coldly.
Krycek growled, a sound of pure animal need. He grabbed a videotape from the
table beside him.
"This what gets you off?" he demanded.
He threw it against the wall, smashing it. He took another step forward,
heedless of the gun leveled at his chest, forcing Mulder to retreat farther into
the living room. "You don't need that. You've got the real thing right here.
I'm begging for it, Mulder. Fuck me!"
Mulder's finger tightened on the trigger. "I told you to get away from me!"
Krycek didn't seem to hear. He rubbed himself shamelessly, his hand
continuing its fluttering journey from nipples to belly to crotch and back again.
"You want me, Mulder," he purred slyly, his husky voice like honey. "I know
you do. You've always wanted me."
Mulder cursed and backhanded Krycek. Krycek stumbled and fell, catching
himself awkwardly with his single hand. He looked up at Mulder. "That's it,
Mulder," he said, his eyes glittering. "Hit me. It makes you hard when I bleed
for you, doesn't it?"
Mulder gritted his teeth. It took everything he had not to pull the trigger.
"Even if I believe you've been given some sort of...aphrodisiac," he said
through clenched teeth, "that doesn't make it my problem. You're a liar, a
killer and a whore, Krycek. What makes you think I'd touch you?"
Krycek pulled himself up to his knees, resolutely staring Mulder down. He
touched the corner of his mouth, letting his fingers trail along the slowly
darkening bruise there.
"Maybe because you touch me every chance you get," he husked.
Mulder's eyes narrowed. "You've still got one hand left, Krycek. Use it."
Mulder savored the brief flash of pain that crossed Krycek's face. Krycek
looked down and whimpered. "I did but I...I can't anymore. It hurts too much."
He blinked back tears and looked at Mulder pleadingly. "Fuck me, Mulder.
Fuck me hard. Please."
Mulder turned his back, disgusted. "Get the hell out of here, Krycek.
Before I change my mind and shoot you after all."
Krycek leaned forward and began crawling awkwardly toward Mulder. Mulder
turned, his mouth dropping open, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of
Alex Krycek, wet and weeping, crawling to him and begging to be fucked.
Krycek looked up at Mulder, tears sparkling in his lashes, his eyes hollow
and burning. He dragged himself along with his one hand, any pretense at
dignity long gone. Mulder backed away until he felt the hard edge of his desk press
into his back. He leveled the gun at Krycek, trying not to notice how his
hand shook.
"Don't come any closer," he snarled.
Krycek whimpered again and knelt a few feet away, his thighs spread wide,
displaying the bulge his jeans barely kept restrained.
"You're right, Mulder," he whispered. "I'm all those things you said. But
you can punish me for it. This is your chance to make me pay for all the
things I've done. Beat me. Hurt me. Just fuck me." He looked down, his hair
obscuring his tortured eyes. "Please."
Mulder's cock throbbed at the thought of punishing Krycek. God, the thought
of it...holding him down, fucking him hard and painful, taking every ounce of
vengeance he was due...
Mulder tore himself away from his dark fantasy. He stared down at Krycek,
his lip curled. "Look at yourself, Krycek. You're fucking pathetic."
Krycek moved a little closer, his boots scraping the floor as he crawled. He
knelt again, swallowing hard as he looked up into Mulder's blazing eyes.
"Do you remember when we were partners?" he asked softly.
Mulder scowled. "That was a long time ago, Krycek. I fell for your act
once. But you can't play me now like you did then."
An almost comical expression of hurt crossed Krycek's face. "It wasn't an
act!"
Mulder blinked. The little son of a bitch was pouting!
"Are you trying to tell me you were a virgin, Krycek?" he sneered.
Krycek looked down. It was a moment before he spoke.
"No," he said, so quietly that Mulder could barely hear him. "But you were
the first one I got to choose."
Mulder leaned forward, the barrel of the gun pointing at Krycek's head. He
was shaking badly now.
"Shut up!"
Krycek looked up again, his eyes wide, so much like they had been that night
long ago. "Any way you want it, Mulder," he breathed. "I'll do anything.
All those things I wouldn't let you do then...you can do them now." He leaned
forward eagerly. "Tie me up, Mulder," he said, his voice rough and urgent.
"Bend me over and strap me raw. Make me scream. I deserve it. I'll take it.
I'll take it all and I'll thank you for it."
Mulder's cock was hard and aching now, and he remembered the cheap motel room
with scratchy bedsheets and the neon sign buzzing outside their window.
Remembered Alex lying beside him, nervous as a new bride. God, the way he'd
blushed when Mulder had playfully dangled the handcuffs from one finger and told
him how beautiful he was! Mulder had been half-crazy with the need to claim
Krycek, to capture him and explore every inch of him, to make him moan and cry
out with every touch. But green eyes had dropped shyly, white teeth nibbling at
that plump bottom lip, and Mulder's lust had turned to desire, slow and
smoldering and gentle. He'd taken Alex into his arms, and those lips had parted
under his, so timid and so sweet...
Mulder looked down at Krycek. The rat knelt there, looking up at him,
somehow managing to look innocent and slutty at the same time. Mulder choked back
bitter rage. The little bastard was playing him! Pushing all his buttons,
manipulating him, willing to say or do anything to get what he wanted.
"Shut the fuck up!" Mulder shouted. He was gripping the pistol so hard his
knuckles were white. "I'm sick of your bullshit, Krycek! Sick of you turning
up like a bad fucking dream! You fuck with me, you fuck with my life, and
then you show up here in the middle of the night and expect me to service you
like some kind of rent-a-dick?"
Krycek trembled. "Mulder, please..."
"Just. Shut. Up." Mulder growled, his eyes flashing. "You think you'd like
it, you little slut? You think I'd make it easy on you? Believe me, you
wouldn't like what I'd do to you."
Krycek's eyes rolled back and he gasped, his hips bucking. "Oh G-god,
Mulder!" He hunched over, panting, his one hand clutching at himself. Mulder
watched, astonished, as Krycek's face flushed with humiliation, his breathing loud
and uneven as he tried to get himself under control.
God, the Rat had just come in his pants!
Mulder realized with something like wonder that it wasn't an act, that Krycek
had been telling the truth when he said he'd been shot up with some kind of
sex drug. Mulder's own cock was tenting the fabric of his boxers, so hard it
hurt. He gritted his teeth. Damn it all, he was not going to give in to
Krycek!
Mulder swallowed. "Forget it."
Krycek knelt there, utterly still, his eyes searching Mulder's face. Mulder
watched, speechless, as he began shuffling forward on his knees, stopping only
when his forehead was pressing against the barrel of the gun.
"Then finish it," Krycek whispered brokenly. "Do it to me, Mulder. Please.
I can't take it anymore." He leaned into the gun, as if willing Mulder to
shoot. He turned his eyes up to Mulder, his tears shining in the lamplight.
"Have that much mercy on me, please."
Mulder's finger tensed on the trigger. For a moment he was tempted to end
it, to finish the little rat once and for all. His stomach clenched and beads
of sweat stood out on his forehead. He looked into Krycek's eyes and was
stunned to see something there besides that grasping, clawing need that had brought
them both to this point.
It was trust.
Slowly, Mulder lowered the gun, his own harsh breathing loud in the sudden
silence.
Krycek's face crumpled and he looked down. He sounded like he was crying.
Mulder's gun hand dropped to his side. "Krycek..."
Krycek looked up, his face wet with tears. "I want you, Mulder."
Mulder shook his head. "That's not you talking, Krycek. It's the drugs."
Krycek made a sound that was part despair, part frustration. "No!" he
shouted. "You don't understand. It IS me. I just c-can't control it." He ran his
hand through his hair, searching for the words that would get through to
Mulder. "Why do you think the Smoking Man did this to me and then turned me
loose?" he continued, his voice rising. "Because he knew what I'd do! He knew
I'd come straight to you!"
Mulder stared at him. "Why?"
Krycek looked away. "To teach me a lesson," he whispered. "To make me
crawl. To make me beg at your feet like a dirty little whore." He hid his face,
not wanting to see the look in Mulder's eyes. "It's always been you, Mulder."
Mulder stood dumbstruck. He watched as Krycek slowly rose to his feet,
graceful even though his spirit was broken. He looked at Mulder, anguished.
"You won't fuck me and you won't shoot me," he moaned, his hand desperately
scrabbling at his crotch. His face contorted with pain. "Oh God what am I...I
can't..."
Mulder stepped forward, searching that beautiful agonized face.
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.
Krycek gave him a look of disbelief.
"Oh, God!" he shouted, his hand clutching at Mulder's shirt. "Now, Mulder,
please!"
Mulder glanced toward the bedroom. Krycek was gone before he could open his
mouth to speak.
There's a devil crawling along your floor
(how much longer?)
There's a devil crawling along your floor
With a trembling heart he's coming through your door
With his straining sex in his jumping paw
There's a devil crawling along your floor
And he's old and he's stupid and he's hungry and he's sore
And he's lame and he's blind and he's dirty and he's poor
Give him more give him more give him more give him more
There's a devil crawling along your floor
Mulder stood in the doorway. Krycek was already naked and on the bed, his
ass in the air. He was shaking and moaning, unable to hold still.
"Mulder!" he wailed. "Pleaaaase..."
Mulder moved to the side of the bed, quickly stripping off his own clothes.
Krycek turned his face toward him, his eyes huge and dark with need.
"Are you going to tie me?" he whispered.
Mulder nodded.
"Damn right I am."
He considered returning to the living room for his handcuffs but decided
neckties would be sufficient, especially in light of the raw rope burn on Krycek's
wrist. Mulder went to the closet and returned with a handful of ties, making
sure to select the ones he liked the least. He had a feeling that once he
and Krycek were done, there would be little chance of salvaging them.
"This what you wanted, Krycek?" Mulder asked as he knotted the necktie around
Krycek's wrist. "Because believe me, you're going to get it."
Krycek whimpered.
Mulder quickly secured Krycek's real and prosthetic hands to the headboard,
being sure not to put too much pressure on the juncture of Krycek's left
shoulder and the artificial limb. Krycek mewled and lowered his hips, trying to
hump the mattress, heedless of his raw cock.
"Stop that!" Mulder ordered. God, the way the Rat quivered at the sound of
his voice! Every word seemed to push him to even more dizzying heights of
arousal.
Trembling, Krycek struggled back to his knees, panting through his open
mouth. "M-Mulder-"
"Up! I want it nice and high, slut!" Mulder barked. He slapped Krycek's
ass hard.
Krycek screamed and shot explosively. He clung to the headboard and panted.
Mulder watched in amazement as Krycek's cock immediately stiffened again,
hard and aching. A drop of precum oozed from the tip. Krycek watched too, his
eyes wide with horror.
"Oh, God!" Krycek screamed, his body wracked with tremors. "Mulder PLEASE!"
He hung his head and sobbed.
"All right, Krycek," Mulder said quietly. "I'm going to give you what you
need."
"Oh God, thank you, Mulder, thank you," Krycek babbled. He squeezed his eyes
shut, the tears sliding down his cheeks.
Mulder grabbed Krycek's hips, waiting while he shuddered through another
wrenching orgasm, and guided him into position. Head down, ass up and out, thighs
spread wide. He stroked his cock, unable to tear his eyes away from the
vision before him. It really was his wet dream. Krycek, naked, ass raised high
in the air, sobbing and pleading for Mulder's cock. Mulder grinned and climbed
onto the bed, reaching over Krycek to the nightstand. He tore open the
condom packet with his teeth (discreetly checking the expiration date) and rolled
it on. His cock was diamond hard and weeping, practically straining to get at
the bounty before it.
Mulder knelt there for a moment, mesmerized by the little muscles twitching
under the smooth skin of Krycek's inner thighs, his balls hanging heavy and
swollen between them. He stroked Krycek's back gently, as if taming a wild colt.
Krycek's skin was smooth and hot to the touch, almost burning. Krycek
shuddered and began babbling again, a litany of pleas and promises, begging for
release. Mulder lubed his fingers and spread Krycek's cheeks, dipping two
fingers in. Oh God, so hot. So wanting. Krycek shrieked and came again, his
muscles bunching and rolling. Mulder watched, fascinated, twisting his fingers and
delving deeper, just brushing against Krycek's prostate.
Krycek howled and came yet again, fighting the restraints even as they
comforted him. He hung there dazed, gulping air, his bottom lip bloody where he had
bitten it.
Mulder leaned forward. "Krycek, you've pissed my neighbors off enough for
one night. I'm going to have to gag you if you can't be quiet."
Krycek nodded, pressing his face against the mattress. "S-sorry." He bucked
his hips again, trying to hump thin air. "Mulder pleeeeeeeeeease..."
Mulder considered slapping his ass again but Krycek had already come so many
times he was near collapse. He wanted him conscious for at least a little
longer. He positioned the tip of his cock at Krycek's opening and coated both
liberally with lube.
"Gonna fuck you now," Mulder breathed. "Just stay still and take it."
"Yes, yes," Krycek panted. "Fuck me. Do it hard. Please."
Mulder thrust into Krycek in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt.
He began fucking Krycek, long hard strokes, driving him into the mattress.
Krycek screamed with every thrust, pushing his ass up for more. Mulder was
tempted to follow through on his threat to gag him, but God, the sounds he made!
Fuck the neighbors.
"Slut," Mulder growled, giving in to the desire to leave another handprint on
that smooth pale skin. "Take it, fucking little slut."
"Yes," Krycek gasped, his mouth open, sweat glistening on his bare skin.
"God! More...please...more!"
Mulder redoubled his efforts, slamming into Krycek. Krycek howled, his one
hand clawing at the headboard, and Mulder knew tying him was the most sensible
thing he'd done all night. Krycek came again and again, his thighs and belly
spattered with semen, his cries breathless and hoarse. Mulder's sweat dripped
onto that graceful naked back as he pounded into him, his hands leaving marks
on Krycek's hips, Krycek sighing and writhing and begging beneath him.
It was glorious.
Mulder felt his orgasm building and deliberately slowed his pace, ignoring
Krycek's plaintive whine. After a moment he stopped completely and pulled out.
Krycek cried out at the loss of friction.
"Wh...what are you doing, Mulder?" he whimpered. He looked over his
shoulder, sex-stupid and struggling to focus.
Mulder stared down at him, panting. His cock ached and yearned to plunge
back into that sweet intoxicating heat but his profiler's mind wouldn't rest.
He's at your mercy, he told himself. Helpless...stripped of all his defenses.
When are you going to have another chance like this?
He needed answers. He needed that even more than he needed to come.
He leaned forward, covering Krycek's body with his as Krycek squirmed under
him, his back pressed against Mulder's chest, hot and slick with sweat.
"Did you kill my father, Krycek?" Mulder asked softly.
Krycek stiffened. Mulder felt him draw a deep, ragged breath.
"Oh, no," Krycek begged, his voice edged with panic. "No, Mulder, please
don't, don't do this-"
"Did you?" Mulder demanded. "Tell me the truth or I swear to God, I'll get
up and leave you here."
Krycek's breath quickened. "No, please!" he begged. "I'll tell you!"
Mulder waited.
Krycek sagged in his bonds and let out a sound of pure desolation. "Yes," he
whispered. "Spender made me choose. It was you or your father." He rested
his cheek on the mattress. "I chose him."
Mulder was stunned. He stared at Krycek for a long while before speaking
again.
"Do you know where my sister is?"
Krycek moaned. He struggled against his bonds, but Mulder had tied him well.
Mulder frowned and brought his hand down sharply on Krycek's ass, making sure
it was hard enough to be a punishment and not a reward. Krycek cried out in
pain and surprise. He shook and sobbed as another orgasm wracked him.
"Pleeeeeeeeease..." he whined.
Mulder raised his hand again. "Answer me."
Krycek stopped struggling and lay still, his back rising and falling against
Mulder's chest with every gulping breath. He swallowed hard. "No," he said,
so quietly and so simply that Mulder knew it was the truth. "Spender makes
sure I can't get near that kind of information. I...I've tried, Mulder. I
swear."
Krycek tried to move back onto Mulder's cock but Mulder gripped him hard,
holding him still. Krycek screamed with frustration.
"Damn you, Mulder! Move!"
"Not until I get what I want," Mulder said, tracing one finger along the
reddened curve of Krycek's buttock. "Scully's sister, Krycek. You shot her,
didn't you?"
Krycek shuddered. "N-no," he said quickly. "It was Cardinale."
Mulder considered this. "Were you there?" he asked, almost gently.
Krycek blinked. The only sound was the sound of their breathing. After a
moment he swallowed hard and said, "Yes." Mulder sat up on his heels, his cock
still stiff and wanting. Krycek lay still, ready for whatever Mulder wanted
to give him.
Mulder sat silently, lost in his own thoughts.
"Mulder?" Krycek said softly. "I'm sorry. I swear to God I'm sorry. Beat
me if you want. Just please don't stop."
Mulder shook himself out of his reverie and looked at Krycek, frowning.
"Shut up, Krycek." He emphasized the command with another ringing slap to
Krycek's ass. Krycek groaned and came instantly.
Mulder watched as his muscles spasmed and his hand opened and closed, heard
his muffled cries as he pushed his face into the mattress. He brought his hand
down on Krycek's ass again and stared fascinated at his own scarlet handprint
glowing on that creamy white skin. Krycek cried out and came yet again, his
cock spurting and then instantly leaping up, stiff and hard against his belly.
Mulder slapped his ass again, the left cheek this time, and Krycek yelped
even as he thrust his ass up for more.
"You like that?" Mulder growled, smacking Krycek's ass harder. "You love it,
don't you, little slut?"
Krycek moaned, panting through his open mouth. "Yes! L-love it..."
"You deserve it, too, don't you?" Mulder demanded. "Fucking little whore.
You know you've got this coming."
Another slap.
Krycek screamed into the mattress. He turned his head to the side, his
sweat-soaked hair plastered to his forehead.
"Yes, Mulder!" he gasped. "P-punish me...make it hurt..."
Mulder slapped his ass twice more, hard enough to push him forward into the
mattress. Krycek screamed, his knees buckling as he came. Mulder brought his
hand down hard on one reddened cheek.
"Up!" he shouted. "Get that ass back up right now or I'll get my belt." He
leaned over, his mouth close to Krycek's ear, his voice low and dangerous,
"And I promise you, you will NOT like it."
Krycek made a mewling noise in the back of his throat. Mulder felt him
shiver and exulted in it, his cock raging, his blood pounding, all for this
beautiful wild thing crouching between his thighs, pushing his ass up like an
offering, ready for more pain, more unendurable pleasure, more of whatever Mulder
wanted to give him.
He brought his hand down across Krycek's ass again, delighting in the crisp
sound it made. Krycek bucked and moaned, thrusting his ass out shamelessly,
gasping as Mulder slapped it hard again. Mulder increased the speed and
strength of the blows, lost in watching Krycek's ass turn deep crimson, every gasp,
every wail going straight to his aching cock. He groaned with the effort of
holding back. Just a little longer...
"Mulder," Krycek whimpered, trying again to push back onto Mulder's cock.
"Need you inside me...please..."
Mulder ran his hands over Krycek's red, swollen ass, tracing the marks he'd
made, feeling the heat from Krycek's punished skin seeping through his fingers.
He squeezed one round buttock, hearing Krycek hiss and groan.
"You don't deserve my cock, Krycek," Mulder said, his voice silky and dark.
"Do you?"
Krycek took a ragged breath. "N-no," he whispered. He turned his face to
the side and Mulder saw a single tear slip free and wend its way down Krycek's
flushed cheek.
"That's right," Mulder answered, his long fingers still kneading, touching,
making Krycek catch his breath as they explored his hypersensitive skin. "You
don't. So you'll have to pay for it, won't you, little slut?"
"Y-yes, Mulder," Krycek said, so softly Mulder could barely hear him. His
hand clenched above the necktie bond and he squeezed his eyes shut, black lashes
fanning over his flushed cheek. Slowly, shaking, he pushed his ass farther
out, spreading his thighs wider, keeping no part of himself hidden, his long
graceful back bent in surrender.
Mulder grinned. He began spanking Krycek in earnest, alternating the
strength and placement of the blows, savoring every shudder and sob he wrung from
Krycek's exhausted body. Krycek's orgasms were coming a little more slowly, but
were still astonishing in strength and number. His ass was glowing deep red
now, and Mulder turned his attention to the tender tops of his thighs,
deepening their color to match.
"Mulder, please," Krycek begged through his tears. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Soon," Mulder said softly. He continued spanking Krycek until he was
sobbing and hiccupping, the sheet under his cheek wet with tears. Mulder glanced
down at his hand and saw it was red and swollen. He would have to ice it later.
He looked down at Krycek, stroked his hair. "What do you say?" he asked,
his voice oddly gentle.
"Th-thank you, Mulder," Krycek choked. His chest hitched and he sniffled
into the mattress.
Mulder almost groaned aloud at the sight of him. God, such sweet submission.
Mulder's cock hurt with the need to make that submission complete, his
muscles ached from the sheer effort it took not to tear Krycek apart in a haze of
animal lust. Wanting, hurting, possessing....
Fuck.
He curled his fist into Krycek's hair and leaned over him, sinking his teeth
into the back of his neck as he thrust into him roughly. Mulder tasted blood
and growled, letting himself go, his fingers digging into Krycek's hips as he
slammed into him, slapping his ass with every thrust. Krycek howled and
babbled and came as Mulder set a punishing rhythm, thrusting faster and faster,
finally coming so hard his ears rang. He slumped over Krycek, breathing hard.
He lay like that as the last of his climax ebbed away, his cheek resting
between Krycek's shoulderblades, one hand carding through Krycek's glossy black
hair. At last, he pulled himself up. Krycek lay motionless, his muscles slack.
Mulder reached down and lifted Krycek's chin.
"Hey, Krycek." He slapped Krycek's cheek gently. "You in there?"
No response. Krycek was passed out cold.
Mulder sighed and got up, returning with a warm washcloth. He removed Krycek
's restraints and manhandled him onto his back. He cleaned them both up as
best he could, passing the cloth gingerly over Krycek's abraded cock, soft at
last in its nest of dark curls. He grimaced as he looked down at the bedsheets.
Krycek had made one hell of a mess. Grumbling, he threw a towel over the
worst of it, then threw Krycek over that. Let him sleep on the wet spot.
Mulder awoke the next morning with a groan. Someone was knocking at his door
again. He raised his head blearily and glanced beside him. Krycek lay
snoring softly, right where Mulder had left him. Mulder swung his legs over the
side of the bed and got up, grabbing his boxers off the floor. He stepped into
them and padded barefoot to the door, pulling his T-shirt over his head as he
went.
The boy in the red jacket seemed nonplussed by Mulder's state of undress.
"Package for you, Mr. Mulder," he said cheerfully. "Just sign here, please."
Mulder took the clipboard and scrawled his name on the form. The boy handed
him a package wrapped in brown paper, surprisingly heavy for its size.
Mulder's wallet lay on the table beside the door. He reached for it and pulled out
a five dollar bill.
"Thank you, sir. You have a nice day now."
Mulder closed the door and looked at the package with a mixture of curiosity
and trepidation. He hadn't been expecting a delivery. He briefly wondered if
it might be a mail bomb, then decided what the hell. If someone wanted to
get to him, there were far easier ways to do it.
He placed it on his desk, feeling in the drawer for a letter opener. He slid
it under the flaps at either end of the package and the brown paper fell
away, revealing a burnished wooden box. Slowly, Mulder raised the lid. A piece
of cream notepaper, old-fashioned and heavy, lay folded inside. Mulder picked
it up, his brow furrowing as he saw what lay beneath it. He unfolded the
paper and read.
My dear Fox-
I hope this small gift brings you many hours of enjoyment.
-C.G.B. Spender
Mulder crumpled the note and turned back to the box. He ran his finger over
the small glass vials. There were a dozen of them, each one filled with a
faintly rose-colored liquid. There were a dozen syringes as well, each one
sealed in a sterile packet. He hesitated a moment, hefting the box in his hands,
hearing the faintly musical clink of the vials inside.
He heard a noise behind him and turned. Krycek stood in the bedroom doorway,
rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He saw the box in Mulder's hands and his
eyes widened.
Mulder grinned.
Krycek whimpered.
L is for LOVE, baby
end
Loverman
by Lorelei
There's a devil waiting outside your door
(how much longer?)
There's a devil waiting outside your door
It is bucking and braying and pawing at the floor
And he's howling with pain and crawling up the walls
There's a devil waiting outside your door
He's weak with evil and broken by the world
He's shouting your name and he's asking for more
There's a devil waiting outside your door
O is for O yes I do
V is for VIRTUE, so I ain't gonna hurt you
E is for EVEN if you want me to
R is for RENDER unto me, baby
M is for that which is MINE
A is for ANY old how, darlin
N is for ANY old time
