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Excess Baggage
by Aries


So. Here I am. On a passenger train heading west to Bumfuck South Dakota. In the freightcar. Looking through piles of shit for one unmarked three by two black bag. Nice. What the fuck am I doing this for, again? Nobody'll appreciate it. If anything, my ass'll end up seriously dead. So tell me, why should I give a shit who gets it?

Ah, crap.

Because I'm tired of being on the wrong side. Not that I want to play for the home team, mind you. Too many rules. I hate rules.

So does he. But he's stuck. Fenced in. It drives me crazy to see him like that. Some people need rules. Structure. Like her. She needs that. Not him. I want to rip that fucking suit off of him. Blow that goddamn Ford up, book little red on a one way flight to Bora Bora...

We'd be fucking awesome together. I know it. If he'd only see things my way. We could get this shit cleaned up in no time. He'd do it if given the opportunity. He would. I can see it in his eyes, everytime he cold cocks me.

Goddamn it, Krycek. I wanna be with you. I wanna save the world your way. Kill everybody who gets in my way. Double cross people. Blow shit up... Help me, Alex. Set me free...

Someday, gorgeous. I'll have you by my side. And in my bed. Oh yeah, that's there too. In his eyes.

I hate you, I hate you, fuck me senseless, I despise you, I'm gonna kill you, rock my world, you sexy beast...

I wonder if he knows just how badly I want to jump him, when he tells me what a slimy low-life I am?

Shit. Somebody's coming. Hide...

Tall figure slithers into the car. Quiet. Feline. Shit, would you look at this? Ask and ye shall receive.

A soft click from my direction makes him spin, drawing his gun. We stand frozen, pointing our weapons at each other. The right corner of his mouth slants upward.

"Well, now I know I'm in the right place."

I taunt him softly. "Right place for what?"

"Don't play stupid, Krycek. It doesn't become you."

"There's a compliment in there somewhere, I think."

"So, you've been demoted to delivery boy?"

"I'm here for the same reason you are, Mulder. To stop that bag from reaching its destination."

"Let's assume for a second that that's true, you lying sonofabitch..."

Oh, yeah. He wants me.

"What would you do with it, then?"

He's never gonna believe this.

"I was going to call you. By the way Mulder, can we put our guns away, now?"

"Hey, you drew on me first."

"I was just protecting myself. I had to let you know I was here and if I'd done that unarmed, you probably would have shot me on sight."

"Well, since you were going to turn the bag over anyway, I guess you won't mind me asking where it is."

"Put the gun away."

He stares at me a full thirty seconds. Chewing the inside corner of his bottom lip. Not a soul in the world can convince me that this bastard doesn't know exactly what he's doing to me right now... If you're still doing that in ten more seconds, you fucking cock tease, you're going to find yourself bent over this crate, here...

He secures his weapon and I do the same.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know. I just got here a little while ago." I look around. "There's a lot of shit in here. I was trying to decide where to start when you popped in."

"Well, let's start looking."

We search every box and package in the car and turn up nothing.

"Shit!" He turns to me. "What did you do with it, Krycek?"

"Nothing!"

"Bullshit."

"I'm telling you, Mulder! We've been taken. Apparently, somebody leaked the wrong information."

"Well, that's great. That's just fucking great. Now I'm stuck here on a train that won't stop anywhere for," he growls, checking his watch, "five hours...with you. This is just perfect."

I sit down on the floor, leaning up against a large box and watch him pace. No. Not pace. Prowl. Mmmmmmmm....

"You look good."

Shit, did I just say that? Ah, fuck it. Too late to take it back, now.

He stops prowling and stares down at me. "What?"

I shrug. "You look good." I look him up and down, quickly taking in the worn jeans that hug him in all the right places, black jump boots, black turtleneck and black leather jacket. "I like this look better than the suits. Not that you don't look damn good in Armani, I'm just saying..."

He studies me with strange, unreadable eyes.

"You look good in leather." I give him my cockiest smirk. "Almost as good as me."

He starts to laugh. Not a bitter or angry laugh but a full, humorous, honest to God laugh. Amazing. I've never seen him sincerely amused before. Makes me want to rise to my knees and pull his zipper down. I change the subject.

"So...five hours, huh?"

"Yeah, and me without my harmonica."

He slides down to the floor, sitting across from me, leaning against a box similar to mine. I watch him quietly as he surveys the car. His gaze comes full circle and meets mine.

"Cold in here."

"A little."

"Where's Scully?"

"D.C."

"She know where you are?"

"No."

"She gonna be pissed when she finds out?"

"Probably."

"Well, I feel better now. I thought I was the only partner you ever ditched."

He folds his arms across his chest and looks away.

"We could keep warmer if we sat closer together."

"Yeah. Keep waiting."

We sit in silence for long minutes. Him staring at his folded hands, me with my forehead down on bent knees. A tiny sound draws my attention to his face. He's got his arms wrapped around himself now, shivering delicately. I don't offer. I just get up and sit myself down beside him. Close enough so that our thighs touch. He shivers harder.

"Still cold?"

"Aren't you?"

"Yeah. Look Mulder, don't punch me or anything, okay? I'm just trying to keep us both from freezing."

I place my hand on the back of his neck and push him forward just far enough to get an arm behind him. I move my other arm around the front of him and lean close. He sits rigidly in my embrace. At least he's not moving away or looking to deck me. Hey, it's progress.

"Warmer now?"

"Not really."

I rub his arm and back. "Well why the hell are you so tense? Loosen up, for Christ's sake."

He bolts from my touch and begins to pace the length of the car.

"I'll be better off if I keep moving."

"Better off, how? Warmer? Or safer?"

Only the sound of shuffling feet over the rumble of the train.

Fifteen minutes pass. I've had about all I can take of this pacing.

"Mulder, sit down, you're making me dizzy."

"So, don't watch me."

Oh, I'm really pushing it.

"I like to watch you. You're nice to look at..."

He spins on his heel and glares at me.

"But not when you're pacing a hole in the floor." I pat the empty space beside me. "Come on and sit down."

Oh, shit. He's sitting. I cautiously touch the back of my hand to his face. "You're freezing."

"I'll live."

I get to my feet and start moving around the car, looking. I find a quilted cover, wrapped around a large box over in the corner. I rip it off and bring it over to him.

"Here."

He looks up at me.

I sigh and squat down beside him, wrapping the quilting around him. "Is that better?"

He nods, eyes never leaving my face. "What about you?"

"I'm okay."

I sit down again beside him, crossing my arms over my chest and close my eyes. A long time passes...well, at least it feels that way. I hear him clear his throat.

"Were you really going to turn that bag over to me?"

Something in his voice. His tone. It's...

"Yes."

And if I wasn't going to give it to him, I would have told him that too, just now. I wouldn't have lied, no matter what.

Brief silence.

"You're shivering."

"No, I'm not."

There's some movement, some shuffling and then I feel him pulling the cover around my shoulders. I open my eyes and look up at him. His eyes flit away.

"It's big enough for the both of us."

I nod and again lower my head to my knees. I feel warmer already. His heat fills the space under the cover and wraps me in invisible comfort. It feels wonderful...and he isn't even touching me. God, if he was...

As if he'd heard my thoughts, he shifts slightly, bringing our thighs in close contact. I remain as still as I possibly can. If this was a move and not just an accident, I don't want to scare him off. He shifts again, leaning sideways and rests his upper body lightly against mine.

If he puts his head down on my shoulder, I'll die...

He doesn't. I can live. Dammit.

He's quiet. I chance a glance out of the corner of my eyes and see that his eyes are closed. Hell, I might as well catch a wink too. I lean my head back against the box and close my eyes. I can feel his head very close to mine. Can almost feel the fine golden-brown strands of his hair, tickling the side of my face. I turn slowly and carefully until I can actually, really feel it. It feels so cool against my now warmed skin. So soft and silky. I choke down the suddenly overwhelming urge to bury my face in it.

His right hand that until now, had been clutching the quilt under his chin, lets go and slides to the side, coming to rest against my arm.

Oh, this is too much, this is just...

I stay perfectly still, waiting to see if his hand moves again. It does. And at the same time, his head drops onto my shoulder.

Shit, oh shit, oh shit...

His hand slides down my arm, stopping at the wrist, then moves back up again. His head moves a fraction and I feel his lips, those incredibly full, outrageously sexy lips, brushing my neck. I can't breathe. I can't move, I can't...I have to. I force myself.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"I don't know," he whispers against my neck. His hand sweeps down to my thigh. "Stop me..."

I weave my fingers through his hair and pull his lips up to mine. My voice comes out in a low growl. "No way in hell."

Our lips meet with more tenderness than I ever though either of us capable of. His fingers tighten on my upper thigh. Not so much a passionate gesture I think, but done to prevent his hand from traveling any further up my leg.

My hand comes up slowly, molding itself to the back of his head, holding it still as I coax his mouth open. Not that he needs much coaxing. He opens willingly for me and beating me to the punch, his tongue sweeps inside my mouth, stroking, tasting. Searching for my own tongue and finding it almost immediately.

How long has he wanted this, I wonder? His actions don't seem to me to be those of a man who has only just now discovered some new and totally alien feelings. They seem more to me like something that's been simmering for a long long time and now, with no place else to go, is boiling up to the surface.

Or maybe that's just wishful thinking. I don't know. And this point I really couldn't care less. The feel of his tongue so soft and pliant, tangled with mine, is driving me nuts. That hand...the one trying so hard to remain still on my thigh, is losing it's battle and creeping higher. He tears his mouth away from mine and again pleads.

"Alex, stop me. Don't let me do this..."

"If you really want to stop Mulder, you're going to do it yourself." I force him to look at me. "See, I want this. Have for a fucking long time and I'm not about to let it go so easily." I move in and lick the corner of his mouth. "Are you?"

I time every shuddering breath as it falls from his lips. Wait on his decision. A tiny twitch of the muscle in his right cheek is all the warning I have and he's on me, pushing me onto my back. The quilt that's wrapped around us both tightens, pulling him along and he lands on top of me. There's an almost inaudible groan as his mouth finds mine.

Oh my God. Oh God.

I close my eyes and open them again. Okay...he's still here...sprawled on top of me, his mouth doing things to mine that I never thought a mouth could do.

My hands slip inside his jacket and clutch the soft black wool of his sweater. He sighs softly into my mouth then pulls away.

"Get up."

I stare up at him, confused as hell. "Have you changed your mind?"

He gives a small shake of his head. "The quilt is getting all twisted. You're laying on the cold floor." He pulls me up and yanks the cover off of us then proceeds to spread it neatly on the floor. He guides me back down to one end and settles himself on his side, right up against me. A flick of his hand and the rest of the quilt floats down over us.

I lie immobile, letting him explore my face with the tips of his fingers. My tongue slides over my lower lip, trying to rid it of the itchy, tickly feeling after his fingers leave it. He takes notice and lowers his head, mimicking my action. Funny though, my cock didn't want to leap out of my pants when I did it...

"I must be out of my fucking mind," he says so softly, I can just about hear.

"Of course you are. So am I. So what?"

He traces the line of my jaw with his index finger. "So we shouldn't be doing this, that's so what."

"Who says?" My hands slip up under the sweater, stroking heated skin. "If it feels good..."

His hand moves from my face, down to my chest, sweeping back and forth across my sweater. Under it. "God, it feels good."

Undress me.

My mind is screaming it so loudly, I wonder if he can hear it in some way. I pray that he can, because I don't know if my lips will form the words.

Wow. Check this out. A psychic connection.

He lifts himself on one elbow and wrestles me out of my jacket, then goes to work on the sweater. Once he's got that off, his hands wander my chest and sides.

"You feel just like I thought you would."

"You've thought about how I feel?"

"Does that really surprise you?"

"Not so much that you've thought about it, but it does surprise me to hear you admit it."

"Well, this ought to shock the hell out of you, then." He reaches for the waistband of my jeans, undoes the button, then takes hold of the zipper. "I want to fuck you till I die."

He's right. I'm shocked.

"I can't let you do that"

He stops tugging at my zipper. "No?"

"Uh uh." I grin up at him. "You don't think once is going to be enough for me, do you? I'm going to want you all the time after this."

"You don't know that. Maybe I'll be really lousy."

I laugh at him. Urge him to finish unzipping me. "Well, what do you say we find out?"

He flips the quilt back and finishes removing the rest of my clothes. He kneels beside me, his eyes sweeping the length of my body. Shameless slut that I am, I arch and writhe in the heat of his stare, silently begging to be touched. I twist my upper body and emit a loud gasp as his fingertips graze a path down my chest and stop on a nipple, brushing across it, gently. Okay, so maybe I overdo it a little, but I'm just trying instill a little confidence in him...just in case he needs it.

He leans over and captures the other nipple in his mouth, sucking gingerly. My fingers tangle in his hair, holding him against me as my hips jerk upward, seeking contact.

"Please," I ask softly. "Mulder, please touch me."

He hesitates for a moment, then moves his hand down to my cock, skimming it lightly with his palm. This time, it's no exaggeration. I moan deep in my throat and buck into his hand. His fingers close around me and his thumb rubs back and forth across the tip, spreading the slick fluid that's gathered there. He releases me and brings his hand up before his eyes, studying the slick thumb pad. His eyes meet mine and he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking the moisture away. I draw in a deep breath.

"I know where you can get more of that..."

He shrugs out of his jacket and peels off his sweater. He stands and quickly he removes the remaining clothing. Oh, that's nice. My eyes travel down his slim, muscular body, to the solid length his cock. Ohhh, that's really nice...

"Come here."

He lowers himself once more beside me and pulls the quilt over us. He again reaches for my cock. I bite my lower lip, squirming under his touch as he begins to work me slowly and gently. My eyelids flutter then close. Goddamn, this is good...

His hand leaves me and just as I'm about to launch a protest, I feel the wet warmth of his mouth surround me. Shit, did I just say that his hand felt good? If that was good, then this has got to be the last stop on the way to heaven.

His hand is wrapped around the base of my cock and his mouth...that mouth...sucks me steadily. Unable to help myself, I begin to rock, attempting to thrust deeper.

He can't. He's unable to take all of me. Not yet. He stiffens and backs off as I push forward. I stop movement, afraid of scaring him off. I feel him begin to relax. His mouth opens slightly and his tongue flutters around the head, drawing a long sigh from me.

"M...Mulder..." My hands clench in his hair and I pull him up to face me. His mouth covers mine, giving me a taste of myself. I untangle one hand from his hair and slip it between us, grasping his rock hard cock. He grits his teeth, hissing softly through them. I stroke him firmly and he moans into my mouth.

The air around us is getting colder by the minute, but all I can feel right now is the incredible heat emanating from his body. Christ, I need him. I need that heat inside of me...

"Do me," I grate against his mouth. "Right now." I pull him on top of me and open myself to him. I lick my hand and transfer the moisture to his cock, then encourage him to guide it to my ass. "Nice and easy, now..."

He presses forward and I feel myself begin to stretch to accommodate him. Holy shit. I haven't done this in while. Combine that with the fact that the man is rather generously proportioned...okay, he's hung, and this turns out to be just a little more uncomfortable than I anticipated...

I feel the head enter me fully and then he stops. His breaths come hard and fast. "Alex..."

"It's okay." I stroke his arms and shoulders. "Stop as long as you need to." I continue to touch and soothe him, even through my own nagging impatience and finally he's ready to move again.

"That's it," I encourage, trying to keep my voice level and calm, as he inches slowly into me. He stops again, halfway, fighting for control. Once regained, he braces my hips with his hands and sinks in to the base. My body stiffens involuntarily and I let out a loud gasp, prompting a whimpered apology.

"It's all right. Don't stop. Don't you fucking stop."

He doesn't. Couldn't. He's completely carried away by these new sensations and goddamn if he isn't the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. He wears pleasure as beautifully as he does one of his Armanis...or worn denim and black leather.

"Oh...God...God..." My name falls silently from his lips as he moves into a steady rhythm.

He's not going to last. I didn't expect that he would, this first time. I tangle one hand in his hair and take hold of my cock with the other.

"It's all right. Harder, Fox..." I jerk myself in time with his thrusts. "That's it...that's...harder...Jesus, yeah..."

In an instant, we're both tumbling out of control, our screams muffled by the rumble of the train and the creak and rattle of the crates surrounding us.

He collapses on top of me, his loud gasps ringing in my ears. I stroke his damp back and murmur against his cheek.

"Ohhh, I don't know about you, but I'm in trouble, now."

Long seconds tick away before he raises his head and looks down at me. "What d'you mean?"

"Are you going to be able to walk away from this and never think about it, again?"

He lowers his head to my shoulder and slowly shakes his head.

I smile into his hair. "I didn't think so."

"What are we going to do, now?"

I pull him up by his hair and meet his eye. I want his undivided attention. "Well... since you ask... I've got a little proposition for you..."

xx

MMCUSN@aol.com

28 Nov 98
Summary: Okay, which one of you chicks proposed this one? I can't for the life of me, remember...okay, Nic says it was Orithain. The boys get stuck in the baggage car of a train together.
Rated NC-17 for language and explicit m/m sex
Disclaimer: They're his, okay? End of disclaimer.
Feedback: Yes, please. You can reach me at MMCUSN@aol.com
Big shout outs to Nic and Orithain and Deb and the lovely Pat. I love you chicks!

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