Mulder had put up a decent enough fight countering most
of the kid's arguments with excuses as to why they
couldn't or shouldn't get together. Finally, it had
come down to the fact that Mulder just wasn't cynical
enough to put him off. The kid's shine must be rubbing
off on him.
A muffled knock sounded again. Mulder opened the door to
find Krycek standing in the hallway with two large pizza
cartons balanced on hands that each held a six-pack of
beer. Two large bottles of classic coke rolled across
the top of the pizza boxes and were only stopped by the
bags of chips perched between the boxes and Krycek's
chest.
Mulder stared for a moment, his hand on the doorjamb
blocking Krycek's entering.
"You didn't have to bring food," Mulder mumbled, a
little stunned by the quantity.
"I haven't eaten," Krycek started but the pop bottles
began to roll again. "Would you grab the coke,
Mulder?" After Mulder had taken the two bottles away
Krycek hitched up the boxes and stood for a minute
staring at Mulder who still blocked the door.
"Either you let me in, or you pay for the pizza. And I
won't go away without a big tip."
Mulder stepped back and let Krycek walk past him.
"The kitchen is around the corner," Mulder threw after
him as he followed.
Krycek hadn't come from work. He was dressed in khaki
drawstring shorts, an open, short-sleeved blue
pinstriped shirt over a blue mesh tank top and he wore
running shoes. He looked like he'd just come from...
That stopped Mulder. As he watched Krycek put the food
on the table, adding bags of M&M's that were stuffed
into the deep patch pockets of his shorts, Mulder wasn't
certain he could say where this guy had been. It was as
disconcerting to see him dressed like this as it was to
see all the food he'd brought. He'd just come from some
other life, some non-cheap suit, non-bureaucratic drone
life that Mulder apparently knew nothing about.
"I didn't know what you liked to drink," Krycek said as
he took the two bottles of pop from Mulder and turned
towards the refrigerator.
"You bought two pizzas?"
"Yeah," Krycek looked up from the refrigerator where he
was putting away the pop and beer. "Looks like a good
thing I did. What is it, the day before grocery
shopping?" He gave Mulder a knowing smile. "One pizza
is pepperoni, Canadian bacon and pineapple. Some people
don't like pineapple. The other one has everything on
it but pineapple and anchovies." He walked back to the
table and handed an unopened beer to Mulder. "That
okay?"
"One pizza would have been enough."
"I meant the beer. And one pizza is never enough." He
twisted the cap off his own beer and took a long drink,
then reached for a bag of salt and vinegar potato chips
that were already open. "You see, Mulder, I eat a lot.
But you wouldn't know that, because we've never had more
than a cup of coffee together."
"It's just never worked out..." Mulder started quickly
as he felt a guilty heat rush up his face.
"Don't worry," Krycek said around a mouthful of potato
chips. "I'm not here to lay any guilt. Believe it or
not?" He grinned and it threatened to break into a
laugh. "I actually like being around you."
"Must be a masochist." Mulder smiled back.
"Never officially diagnosed," Krycek said as he looked
around. "Any clean plates? Like I said, I haven't
eaten."
"Dish drainer."
Krycek retrieved two plates, handing one to Mulder. He
loaded his own plate with pizza from both boxes and
grabbed an extra beer from the refrigerator before he
went into the living room.
Mulder stood with the refrigerator door open, trying to
decide whether he wanted pop or the beer Krycek had
given him. With either beverage did he want to use a
glass? And why did he feel overdressed in jeans and a T-
shirt despite the fact that he was barefoot? And just
how long could he stand in the kitchen and not go out to
join Krycek who was suddenly so shiny Mulder felt a need
to wear shades.
"Whoa! That has got to hurt. Yes!"
Mulder jumped at the sudden whoop from Krycek in the
other room. The muffled sound of the television grew
louder. The roar of some unseen crowd accompanied
Krycek's next outburst.
Mulder moved back to the table and scooped up a piece of
the pizza that had everything on it. He picked off a
few pieces of green pepper and tried to see what Krycek
was watching without being caught. The television was
in the corner so all he could see was the kid's
reaction. There was no need for him to be subtle.
Krycek was locked into the image and oblivious to Mulder
as he watched him.
"Brick! Brick! Brick!" Krycek chanted as the noise of
the crowd increased. "Mulder! Get out here or you'll
miss it. He only does 'The Bricklayer' once a match."
Mulder stepped into the room just as Krycek came off the
couch with a roar of approval at the action. He
couldn't believe what he was seeing. Krycek was
watching what's jokingly called 'professional'
wrestling.
One steroid poisoned lout was about to dump an equally
pumped up opponent to the mat.
"And POW!" Krycek echoed the exploit as the other man
hit the mat.
Krycek moved over on the couch, silently asking Mulder
to join him. Mulder sat beside him placing his plate
and beer on the coffee table in front of them.
"That's The Brick. He's the Intercontinental Champion."
"Why, because he's the flavor of the month?" Mulder let
disgust ring in his tone.
Krycek seemed oblivious. "The unconscious guy is..."
"He's not really unconscious," Mulder interrupted.
Krycek turned and gave him an irritated grimace.
"I know that! What? Do you think I'm six? I know it's
fake, but it's a good show. God, Mulder!"
"Just Mulder will do," he replied.
Krycek turned to him and laughed. "Yeah, you like to
think you're God. What's the matter, you don't watch
wrestling?"
Mulder snatched the remote out of the younger man's hand
and changed the channel.
"Before you arrived, I was watching Washington Week in
Review."
"You poor bastard." Krycek laughed again. "You really
don't have a life. You know what they say about guys
who need to have control of the remote?"
Mulder could feel heat flash across his cheeks. He bit
back the things he wanted to say about wimp losers who
get voyeuristic thrills by watching wrestling. He
wanted to ask Krycek wasn't it customary not to have a
full set of teeth in that land of cousin marriages where
he must come from as the kid's toothy grin assaulted him.
"I think the sooner you realize that politics is
inherent in what we do..."
"Oh, I watch Washington week," Krycek countered. "I
just tape it and watch before I go to bed. Puts me
right to sleep. But then someone your age wouldn't have
any trouble falling asleep." He picked up his beer and
took a long pull. He was fighting a smile as he stole
the remote back from Mulder and wrestling appeared once
more.
"You don't watch wrestling at all, Mulder?"
Mulder reached for the remote but Krycek held it just
out of reach and smiled that infuriating grin again.
"Let's go into what they say about guests who take over
the remote."
"It says the guest has a good host. But you never watch
wrestling?"
"Of course not," Mulder sank back into the couch to pout.
"Not even, oh here they come, the women?" Krycek sat
forward on the couch as several muscular, scantily clad
women made their way through the cheering crowd.
"They've got some hot babes on this show." He turned
towards Mulder and gave him a leering smile. "One
Christmas break, when I was at Quantico, a bunch of us
went to see the Hard Core Event when it came to DC. It
was so good. When you go in person they don't even
pretend it's not about sex. They saved the women till
nearly the end of the show. Well, there were a few that
came out as one of the wrestler's bitc... ah... girls
and they were all gorgeous and falling out of whatever
they were wearing and teasing that they were going to
flash everybody. So, by the time the women came out, we
were all out of our minds."
"I think you're out of your mind anyway to watch this
trash."
"Don't be such a prissy old woman, Mulder. You're not
going to get better jerk off material, anywhere."
Krycek stood and picked up his plate. "You want more
pizza, beer, M&Ms?"
"I want the remote," he stated flatly.
Krycek tossed it on his lap. "Go ahead; put on William
F. Buckley, Jr. on Crossfire. I didn't expect you to be
normal. I heard your personal fetish involved anything
with Roswell in it somewhere."
Mulder watched him walk to the kitchen and dig into the
pizza. He couldn't look away from the long well formed
legs or the tight ass that was outlined against the
shorts as he bent to pick up a package of candy he'd
dropped. Mulder had muted the TV but hadn't changed the
channel. The silent image of two women straining
against each other for dominance tweaked at an arousal
he didn't want to acknowledge. He knew, however, the
best defense was a good offense and Krycek had had
enough fun at his expense.
Krycek walked back into the living room, his mouth full
of pizza. He glanced at the screen, and his eyebrows
flashed up with surprise. He took his seat next to
Mulder and cleared his mouth with a pull from his beer.
"You hooked?" He asked with a grin.
Mulder hit the mute and the raucous sound of the crowd
came up again.
"I didn't want you to think I'm not normal" Mulder
said sarcastically. "If this is what passes for normal."
Krycek shrugged and looked back to the TV screen. "I
never thought you cared what I thought about anything."
"You're my partner," Mulder blurted out.
Krycek turned to him. The amusement was gone from his
eyes. "Scully was your partner. I'm just the rookie
you're saddled with." His head swiveled back when the
crowd noise surged as one woman pinned the other.
A sly smile moved Krycek's lips. "That brunette is one
stone cold bitch. She's so fucking hot." He took a
long drink from his beer and sank back into the couch
next to Mulder. "There is never enough of the women."
"They're not the point," Mulder said. He was tired of
Krycek putting him off balance by alternately making him
feel like one of his college buddies talking about sex,
then some old man he was visiting out of obligation.
"What?" Krycek asked between mouthfuls of M&Ms.
"The women are just the trappings to make everything
appear normal, as you put it."
Mulder pointed at the television as two testosterone
polluted-gladiators tried to rip each other's heads
off.
"It's really the homoerotic elements in wrestling that
attract so many young men."
Krycek's face squinted into a frown as Mulder's relaxed
with a muted smile.
"Sound familiar?" Mulder asked the younger man.
"That's so much bullshit, Mulder. You don't like it, so
from high atop your god-Mulder perch you declare it's
queer."
"I'm not saying it. There are hundreds of studies and
reports that show a direct correlation between
homoeroticism and wrestling."
"Really?" Krycek gave him another one of those smiles
that made Mulder want to beat it off his smug
face. "Reports and studies, huh?"
Mulder nodded.
"Are those the kind of stroke books you snuggle up with
on lonely nights?"
Mulder ground his teeth for a moment but his voice came
out sounding surprisingly calm.
"You're the one with the penchant for watching nearly
naked men grab at each other. What do you like best,
the violence as they substitute their fists for their
dicks and beat on, or more to the point off, each other?
Or the..."
"I like the athletic ability it takes," Krycek
interrupted. "I like to watch them throw each other
around the ring. I like to see them do these impossible
feats of jumping off the top rope, or taking it as some
guy jumps on them because they have the skills to make
it look real." Krycek motioned to the screen as one man
flew off the ropes and into the forearm of his
opponent. Krycek looked back to Mulder. "And I like
the show. This is the American dream in short hand.
It's all about power, money and sex."
"It's certainly about sex," Mulder agreed as he nodded
towards the television.
Krycek turned to see a pair of referees move in on the
villain of the piece as he pulled the other, barely
conscious, wrestler's arm up between his legs and jerked
it as he thrust, giving a passable parody of anal sex.
"I've...I've never seen this before." Krycek stammered.
Mulder smiled, more than pleased with the younger man's
discomfort.
"You're the one who said they don't even pretend it's
not about sex. I agree with that part, but you're wrong
about the American dream. This is like all the rest of
television. It's all about promoting white-trash
values."
Krycek laughed suddenly and turned towards Mulder
leaning close to him on the couch.
"Is that what this is really about? Not the homoerotic
elements?" He said the words as a taunt. "You're such
a fucking snob, Mulder. Just because the rest of us
didn't grow up on Martha's Vineyard with the Kennedys,
and attend private prep schools, and go to college at
Oxford we're white trash?"
"I was generalizing," Mulder said quickly as he tried to
slide down the couch.
Krycek grabbed the remote and killed the sound of the
commercial as he scooted closer to Mulder. He tossed
the remote on the coffee table and shoved the piece of
furniture away with his foot before he turned.
"Well, then I'll generalize a little. You had a lot
more opportunity to encounter homoerotic elements than I
have. Being poor white trash I never went to one of
those swank summer camps where you have a choice of
kayaking, water polo or pulling each other's dicks. And
what about the hallowed halls of Old Oxford? It's
practically a graduation requirement there that you get
your balls slammed in a drawer when you and an upper
classman play 'the milkmaid and the Nazi'. Stop me when
I get to a part that doesn't ring true."
Mulder started to get up, but Krycek grabbed him by the
shoulder.
"You ever wrestle, Mulder? Or were you too light in the
ass?"
Mulder shoved Krycek's hand away.
"Get the fuck off me, Krycek," he snarled. "Or you're
going to find out what I can do."
"Oh yeah?" Krycek kept up the taunting tone. "I'd like
to see what your keen awareness of homoerotic elements
has taught you."
"Not as much as those two." He pointed at the
television, and Krycek turned his gaze to follow.
What Mulder had learned from all his years of privileged
education was that surprise often won out over strength.
As soon as Krycek turned, Mulder bowled him off the
couch. They struggled for a moment but Mulder easily
grabbed Krycek's arm and twisted it up behind his back.
Mulder lay across his back. Krycek tried to bridge
himself on one hand to throw Mulder off. He was about
to succeed when Mulder remembered another old school
trick that had been pulled on him.
Mulder snaked his free hand down to the loose fabric of
Krycek's shorts as he struggled under him. His fingers
darted in to find the crease between his leg and groin
and stroked lightly.
Krycek stilled as the feeling registered. Mulder
increased the pressure and raked his fingers across the
sensitive area. Krycek bucked then dropped to the floor,
trying to stop the tickling.
"Mulder, you prick," he sputtered as laughter was pulled
from him.
"Give up!" Mulder urged as he increased the torment.
"No!" Krycek barely got the one word out before he was
howling as Mulder found a spot that was unbearable.
With Krycek's arm still held high behind his back Mulder
was able to lever him off the floor enough to grab at
the leg of the shorts and reach inside. He spidered his
fingers up the younger man's thigh till his fingernails
scraped against the edge of his briefs and over his
hipbone.
Krycek pushed back, trying to avoid the touch that made
him jump and writhe. He rolled Mulder over and lay on
top of him, still caught and still struggling. He
grabbed at Mulder's hand inside his shorts. But instead
of trying to pull it away, he only shifted it to the hot
hardness under his briefs.
Mulder stopped at the unexpected move. He lay silent,
Krycek holding his hand in place, feeling the heat
radiate under his fingers.
"What's the matter?" Krycek's voice was breathy and
still marked with laughter. He pressed his butt back
against Mulder. "Did you come, already?"
Mulder loosened his grip on Krycek's arm and let him
roll away. But as soon as he was free, Mulder pushed
him to the floor and pinned Krycek's arms over his head.
"Is this why you wanted to come over?" he asked, his own
voice husky and determined.
Krycek giggled and moved provocatively under him. "I
want to come, I know that much."
Mulder fought the urge to kiss that damn smile off his
face as Krycek lay under him, grinning back and bumping
against him.
"I'm a senior special agent. I'm your superior..."
"You're my partner," Krycek yelled back at him. "I'm
not your lackey, I'm not your errand boy, and I'm sure
as hell not the kid you seem to think I am."
"I could lose my job over this on so many levels. You
could too."
Krycek gave a disgusted laugh. "Thanks, Mulder. It's
always nice to be an afterthought."
Krycek thrust his hips up and ground himself into Mulder
who couldn't help but press back.
"You like it?" Krycek asked, his voice smooth and
seductive. He relaxed back on the floor; his hands
still in Mulder's grip. "You should. You've been
bumping into me every chance you got for the last four
months. I don't know how many times after one of our
meetings where you'd stand over me and give me the old
full body press while we were reading something, that I
had to go in the can and jerk off."
The thought of Krycek being as aroused as Mulder had
often been, sent a jolt through him.
Krycek laughed again. "Guess I should have checked the
stalls. I wasn't the only one jerking off, huh? If I'd
known Mulder I..."
"Is that why you asked yourself over, for sex?"
The mocking smile disappeared, and for the first time,
Krycek looked away. "I asked myself over because I'm
you're partner, goddamn it. Senior Agent Mulder, my
supposed superior Mulder, you treat me like some spaz
from the mailroom. I thought if we could hang out maybe
you'd finally see me, respect me."
Mulder saw the pain in Krycek's face as he turned back
to look at him. His expression was sad, but still
hopeful.
Mulder wanted to tell him not to take it personally. It
wasn't just him. He treated everyone as if they were an
inconvenience in his life. He'd even started out with
Scully the same way. But he'd never straddled Scully,
pinning her to the floor and wanting so much to have her
lips pressed to his. The kid was right. It was
personal.
"It's hard for me to trust people," Mulder offered.
"You trust me enough to play bump and grind with me in
the elevator. 'Oh here, Alex let me reach right across
your dick and push the floor we want.' Or did you think
I was just too stupid or straight to figure out what you
were doing?"
"I haven't been fair with you," Mulder conceded. "I was
angry that they split us, Scully and me, up."
"So you took it out on me?" Krycek challenged.
"I didn't say I was proud of it. I have a lot of
faults. Is that what you want to hear, that I've been
self-centered and childish and a bad partner to you?"
"I know all that shit." Krycek smiled again, a scoffing
glee lighting his eyes. "I want to know why you have a
steel hard boner, and why you still have me pinned to
the floor?"
Mulder gave himself a mental shake. He was still
holding Krycek down and oh God he was still so hard. He
leaned close to the other man, almost kissing him, and
garnered a small gasp for his trouble.
"This changes everything," he warned.
Krycek closed his eyes and rubbed himself against
Mulder's hardness.
"It makes it better," he replied in a smoky
whisper. "But tell me. Tell me why you want me."
Mulder darted his tongue out to outline the perfect bow
of Krycek's upper lip.
"Because." The tip of his tongue made contact with
Krycek's. Mulder probed and slid a kiss over the kid's
luscious mouth. He broke away panting and nibbled at
the corners of Krycek's mouth as he moved under
him. "Because you're a stone cold bitch." He brushed a
kiss across Krycek's lips as they moved into a
smile. "And you are so fucking hot!"
"Fox," Krycek moaned over and over as Mulder sprinkled
kisses covering his face, brushing his open mouth over
the taut jaw line and along the younger man's sensitive
neck.
"What do you want?" Mulder answered each time Krycek
said his name. Finally, he found his voice and the
answer surprised Mulder.
"Make me give up," Krycek said in a sultry whisper. His
eyes, dark with arousal, flickered shut for a moment as
if he were giving away a secret.
"You like to be submissive?" Mulder asked, suddenly
wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
Krycek struggled at the question, just enough to make
Mulder uncertain whether this was a game or not.
"I like to be overpowered," Krycek told him, his words
coming in gasps as he ground up into Mulder's own
hardness. "I'm a big guy. I respect the strength it
takes to bring me down."
"I didn't use strength." Mulder stated the obvious but
the idea of this powerful, aroused kid at his mercy was
more than he could resist
Mulder secured both of Krycek's hands in one of his.
His free hand went immediately to the front of the other
man's shorts and began to tease over the growing bulge.
"Fox!" He nearly laughed as the fingers that tormented
him found a particularly sensitive spot.
Mulder lessened the torment for a moment, but didn't
stop.
"What's the reward if I make you give up?"
Krycek gave an incredulous laugh. "You win."
"I win what? I need a prize, not just you saying uncle."
Mulder dug his fingers into a spot that made Krycek jump
and threaten he would break free to avoid it. Mulder
let up again just scratching over the seam in the front
of the light cotton shorts, teasing the erection that
twitched and jumped under his touch.
"A blowjob," Krycek panted out after he caught his
breath. "You make me give up; I'll give you a primo
blowjob."
"Okay," Mulder said as he admired how scratching one
particular spot near the outline of the head actually
made Krycek shiver. "We sixty-nine, and I stroke you
while you blow me, but you can't come till I say you
can."
"Fucking sadist." Krycek laughed.
"You're the one who said he liked to be around me."
"Can't make me give up," Krycek cooed the words like
other people flirted during a seduction.
Mulder felt his erection jump at the raw sex in the
kid's voice. A warning went off in his head. Back off.
It wasn't too late to stop. He risked everything giving
into his attraction for this kid who was probably only
here because he didn't have a date.
Krycek arched into Mulder's hand as it lay unmoving over
his straining erection.
The warning went quiet. "I don't need strength, you
do." He released Krycek's hands and snagged a pillow
from the couch. Mulder pushed it under the other man's
butt.
"Spread your arms out."
"What are you going to do?" Krycek asked but wouldn't do
as he was told.
"I'm going to overpower you." Mulder was pleased by the
flush that colored Krycek's face.
Slowly, Krycek spread his hands out. But the moment he
had, his head came up, and he looked questioningly at
Mulder.
"What are you going to do, just tickle me?"
"I told you. I'm going to overpower you with
sensation. Although, there are studies that some men
find that particular stimulus so erotic they can reach
ejaculation by that sensory means alone."
Krycek shook his head. "God, Mulder! You can make the
sexiest fucking stuff sound so damn clinical. Ahhh!"
Krycek jerked as Mulder ran a hand up each of his legs
and inside the shorts.
"Keep your arms out flat or you lose. And just tell me
when you need to give up."
Krycek lasted a good five minutes. Mulder thought he
had him a couple of times, but the kid was tough, and
fought through several teases that made his skin twitch
involuntarily. There was no mistaking when Mulder
finally had him. It was a spot on the inside of his
thighs along the leg of his briefs. Once Mulder had
found one spot he traced his fingers in the opposite
direction on the other leg causing nerves and sensation
to fire in counterpoint to each other. Krycek held on
for another minute, till his breath was coming in ragged
gasps that barely disguised the laugh he struggled to
contain.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Alex." Mulder
watched as his words caused Krycek to bite his lip.
The truth was that they were both sweating, and Mulder
was certain that he was going to die if he got any
harder. Worse, he seemed to be growing more rigid with
each moan or stifled laugh from Krycek.
His touch grew lighter letting each brush of his fingers
startle more sensation from the over-stimulated skin.
Krycek finally broke when Mulder made tiny circles on
one leg while making zigzagging little strokes on the
other leg with his fingertips.
Krycek curled into a ball and thrust Mulder's hands
aside. His own hands went inside his shorts to scratch
away the remaining sensation.
After a moment he straightened and smiled up at Mulder.
His heavy lidded eyes gleamed with wanton need. Krycek
reached out and grabbed the bottom of Mulder's T-shirt
pulling it up.
"You're good at this." His voice was husky as he pulled
the T-shirt over Mulder's head. "If I didn't know you
never had to worry about money, I would have bet you
worked your way through college as a Master."
"I did my graduate work in England." Mulder didn't
explain further but pulled off Krycek's shirt and tank
top. The body underneath was lean and muscular, not
what he'd expected. A runner of hair shot up from his
groin, but otherwise Krycek's skin was smooth, and his
muscular body was as perfect as anyone pictured in the
best sex magazines Mulder owned.
Krycek unzipped Mulder's pants and pulled them off his
hips.
Mulder scratched his fingers lightly over the rise of
Krycek's hipbone, eliciting a little shudder from the
younger man.
"How do you know about this sort of thing?" Mulder asked.
Krycek had Mulder's pants down to his knees and was
pulling off his briefs.
"It's a hobby," he said, his explanation as vague as
Mulder's. "Take off your pants."
Mulder pulled his jeans the rest of the way off. He
pushed the coffee table further away, giving them more
room on the floor. He pulled off Krycek's shorts and
tossed them aside but left the ribbed tan briefs on.
Krycek started to pull off the underwear, but Mulder
caught his hands. A wicked smile moved his lips.
"Leave the briefs."
Krycek bit his lip again and reached for Mulder's stiff
cock. The silky glide of his fingers along the shaft
made the other man shudder.
"You a wrestling fan now, Mulder?"
Mulder settled himself on the floor beside Krycek, head
to cock.
"I'm a fan of yours." He gasped as Krycek touched
Mulder's gland to his lips.
Krycek teased and stroked the hard length of Mulder with
expert ability. His warm breath sent shudders through
Mulder, and all but made him forget about the torment
he'd planned for Krycek.
After the initial rush of sensation from the soft lips,
Mulder took a deep breath and tried to mentally step
away from the exquisite sexual touch.
Krycek's ample package was at eye-level, straining for
release from the ribbed cotton briefs. Mulder ran a
finger over the other man's balls, his touch traced over
the thin material. The cock gave a satisfying twitch as
he ministered to the heavy balls. Krycek bucked a
little at the tease, and moved his legs away.
Mulder grabbed him and pulled him close, burying his
face in the heated groin.
Krycek did the same, trapping Mulder's legs in the
circle of his arms. He licked and moaned tiny
vibrations along Mulder's bare skin. Krycek found the
spot at the crease between hip and thigh that he had
found so unbearable. He slowly dragged his tongue along
the responsive skin till Mulder jerked and gasped. The
gasp only served to flood his genitals with a burst of
warm stimulating breath. Everything he did to pull a
reaction from Mulder resulted in some equal tease. They
were caught in each other's erotic torment.
Mulder put his open mouth to the hard cock hidden under
the tan fabric. He blew a tingling warmth over the
organ that made it buck to get free.
Krycek licked and sucked at Mulder's engorged cock, his
tongue always returning to the sweet spot just below the
head. He knew Mulder was holding back. The thought
that Mulder was struggling not to come just as Krycek
was doing threatened to push him over the edge.
Each man did things they knew would make the other
crazy, fingertips tracing over the backs of legs while
mouths and hands nurtured the other's hard-on. Each one
fought against the pleasure. Mulder to prolong the
tease he visited on the younger man as a payback for his
smart mouth, and Krycek to prove Mulder couldn't
overpower him again.
Krycek finally found a rhythm that made Mulder moan and
buck with each slide of his mouth. He worked his tongue
over the silky hardness and rolled the substantial balls
between his fingers.
"Alex." The name came faintly at first but grew and was
repeated as the pleasure jerked from Mulder till "Oh my
God, Alex," crescendoed from his lips as he climaxed.
After a few moments of silence between them Krycek
reached for the beer on the coffee table. He swallowed
a long draught, cleansing his mouth. He put the bottle
back and smiled at Mulder.
"Just Alex, will do," he teased as he rubbed himself
against Mulder's unmoving hand.
Mulder looked up at him and smiled as well.
"You want something, God-Alex? And that was a pretty
damn God-like blow job." He squeezed gently at the
hardness under the briefs.
"Yeah, I want something." His voice threatened to break
as Mulder toyed with him. "How about you make me scream
your name."
Mulder began to slide Krycek's briefs off but the other
man stopped him.
"Like you said." Krycek's voice was thick and sweet
with arousal. "Leave the briefs. Make me come in them
like I nearly do when I'm around you at work."
Mulder sat up and pulled Krycek up into a kiss. His
hand went to the heat between the other man's legs. He
broke the kiss and placed his lips next to Krycek's ear.
"What do you think about when we're at work?" he asked
in a tantalizing whisper. "Do you imagine me bending you
over the desk, riding you till we both come? Or is it
just you, alone, that becomes all hot and out of control?
Mulder slowly inched his fingers inside the waistband of
the briefs. He combed through the soft pubic hair and
Krycek shuddered against him.
"Or maybe we're in the copy room on the fifth floor, the
one in the back. We need to copy some files and you go
over to the machine and start." His hand grasped
Krycek's hardness and pulled it towards him so that just
the head peeked over the waistband of the underwear. "I
close the door and come up behind you. I unzip your
pants and take out your cock."
Krycek moaned as the images combined with the strokes
Mulder administered.
"But you can't make any noise," Mulder admonished. "The
walls are paper-thin. You have to just take it and hope
the sound of the copier chugging along will cover any
cries you can't hold in." Mulder tightened his grip and
started a piston rhythm that made Krycek press his head
against Mulder's shoulder.
"I stroke you and tease you and tell you how fucking
gorgeous you are. And you don't know if I'm in a good
mood and will let you come, or if I'm feeling mean and
will bring you to the edge and walk out with the files
you copied."
Mulder felt the vibration of the moan Krycek let out
against his shoulder.
"Then how would you get out of the copy room and back to
our office with that healthy boner sticking out? But
I'm feeling generous today."
Mulder kissed his way down Krycek's neck to his chest.
"Come for me Alex," Mulder coaxed before he licked then
sucked at a nipple.
Krycek put his fist to his mouth to stop the cry this
act tore from him.
"Come on baby, give it up," Mulder teased as he
continued the firm strokes along the cock that now
tensed and jumped in his grip. "I've wanted this as bad
as you have."
The admission drew a low moan that Krycek couldn't
contain. He rocked against Mulder as he spilled over
Mulder's hand with a whispered chant, "Fox! Ahhh, Fox!
Fox!"
Mulder stopped when the last of the tremors left
Krycek. He wrapped an arm around him and gave the
younger man's balls an affectionate squeeze before he
moved his hand away.
"Mulder," Krycek's voice was a spent whisper, "you are
so fucking good."
"As good as you thought?" Mulder joked.
"Better." Krycek turned his face to look at him and the
smoky green eyes threatened to burn through him.
Mulder's stomach growled and broke the spell.
Krycek ran his hand over the back of Mulder's head.
"You hungry? You didn't eat anything earlier?"
Mulder laughed, and returned the gesture gently running
his fingers through Krycek's hair.
"I'm always hungry when I'm around you, partner.
Tag Team
by LeFey
Mulder paused before he opened the door. How did he
ever get himself roped into this? He didn't even like
Krycek. He certainly didn't respect the wet-behind-the-
ears, intrusive pup. Mulder shook his head. The damn
smile was spreading across his face already. The same
smile he fought to hide every time Krycek rolled out one
of his over-eager tricks. The kid was such a kick. He
had that new shine to him. If there was a 'new car'
smell, Krycek had a 'new agent' shine. Mulder was
certain that the kid believed that if he just tried hard
enough he could make anything happen. And he had made
Mulder ask him over on a Friday night. On a Friday
night that he would normally have been... well... not
doing much of anything.
Krycek tossed his head; eyes squeezed shut as he fought
the titillation.
"You keep doing..." He broke off trying to regain
control. "I'm going to come and you're not going to
have anyone to play with," he blurted out before he bit
his lip.
"You're not as strong as I am," Krycek continued with
his sexy taunt.
"I can do this for hours. Can you stand it that long?"
