Nobody Has to Know III
Pain Between Lovers

by Aries

May 2004

X-Files M/K

Rated NC-17 for m/m sexual situations and language

Disclaimer: All XF characters are the property of Chris Carter, yadda yadda yadda

"Have a good weekend, Mulder."

"Yeah, you too."

Mulder loosened his tie as he walked to his car. Sighing loudly, he unlocked the door, threw his jacket inside and fell into the driver’s seat. He sat staring at nothing in particular for a long while then started the car and headed for home.

The drive was long and frustrating as were most Friday night drives on the Beltway, and by the time Mulder made it home, he was in no mood to make anything for dinner. Instead, he called out for a pizza.

Showering and changing, he grabbed a beer out of the nearly empty refrigerator and settled down with the newspaper. After page three he grew bored and grabbed for the remote. He’d only just turned the TV on when the buzzer sounded.

The acne-faced kid smiled as the door opened, and his favorite customer greeted him.

"Hey, Kenny."

"Hey, Mr. Mulder. Gearin’ up for another exciting Friday?"

"Yup," Mulder answered, giving the kid a hint of a smile. He paid the boy, tipped him well, then carried his pizza into the living room. Dropping the box onto the coffee table, he flipped the cover and pulled out a cheese-laden slice. He piled the dripping cheese back onto the slice then stuffed it into his mouth, biting off at least a third. While he ate, he raced through the channels and settled on Wheel of Fortune.

Usually Mulder yelled at the TV, calling the contestants names when they couldn’t solve what he deemed to be easy puzzles, but tonight, as with every night for the past three weeks, he sat quietly, watching but not really paying attention.

He dropped the fourth, half-eaten slice back into the box and folded his hands behind his head as he slouched back against the sofa.

"....Son of a bitch."

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks since Krycek had been there. Three weeks of reliving that night over and over and fucking over.

Three weeks of second guessing himself.

He was doing it again tonight.

Mulder shook his head, trying to rid his mind of such useless thoughts. Nothing had happened. Krycek had turned and left. There was no point in thinking about it...any of it.

But he couldn’t stop. And he hadn’t stopped.

Not for three long, goddamn weeks.

There was something he’d wanted to do. Until now, pride and whatever good sense he’d had, had kept him from it. But tonight, as he watched some Kansas City housewife and mother of four win a trip to Paris, he snapped, and he gave in his unreasonable, potentially dangerous desire.

Mulder got to his feet and walked around the living room.

"Krycek. You still there? Are you listening? I...I’d like to talk. Don’t you think we should talk?"

He waited for the phone to ring. It didn’t.

"Krycek...I...I don’t know why I went to that club. I didn’t go there with the intention of doing what you said I did. I guess it just...it happened."

He couldn’t believe he was pacing the length of his living room, trying to explain himself to thin air.

Not that thin air was answering.

"Are you still upset with me, Alex?"

Maybe the use of his first name would grab his attention.

Mulder paused and waited, but the phone didn’t ring.

"Do still think I’m an easy slut? It bothered you, didn’t it? Why, Alex? Because you wanted me for yourself?" Mulder licked his lips and plunged on recklessly. "What if I told you that you could’ve had me that night?"

Nothing.

"What if I told you that you still can?"

He stopped again, hearing nothing but the silence.

An inexplicable, dangerous combination of anger and hurt flooded in until Mulder could feel it in his throat. Whirling around, he headed into his bedroom and came out nearly half an hour later, dressed in the tightest pair of jeans he owned and a black tank top. Grabbing his keys, he stalked out the door, slamming it behind him.

"So you think you want a piece of this?" the smirking man murmured to the young blonde as he looked around the club. "You might want some time to rethink it."

The kid who couldn’t have been any more than twenty-three took a deep, shaky breath and nodded.

"Yeah. I..." He winced at the nearby crack of a belt. "I want to..."

The rest of his words were lost on the man as he caught sight of the tall babe he recognized from a few weeks ago entering the club.

"Yeah. Yeah, uh...okay. We’ll start right now. You stay here. Don’t move, don’t talk to anyone until I come back." He started to move away then turned back to the befuddled man. "Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes sir."

"Good boy."

Looking around for the babe’s psycho boyfriend and deciding the coast was clear, he approached quietly from behind.

"Look who’s here."

Mulder turned with a start and stared into sharp, brown eyes.

"You skip out again?"

Mulder frowned. "Huh?"

"I don’t see your man anywhere. You sneak out on him again?" He shook his head, tsk-tsking. "You’re a bad boy."

Mulder gave no response. Instead he asked where the man’s companion was.

The other shrugged. "Haven’t seen him since your boyfriend mopped the floor with him that night." He moved a bit closer. "What’d he do to you?"

"Do to me?"

"Yeah."

Mulder’s gaze slipped away from the man’s face. "Nothing."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"It’s true. He didn’t do anything to me."

The man gave him an odd stare. "So, tell me what you’re doing back here."

"Been thinking about this place," Mulder said, leaning back against the bar and looking around. "What I saw." And in a much softer tone. "What I did."

"You seemed to enjoy yourself."

"I was drunk."

"Yeah, you were a bit tipsy."

"I was drunk. You and your friends took advantage of that."

The man wrinkled his nose. "Took advantage? Nooo. We just gave you what you wanted."

"What I wanted? I asked for it?"

"Pretty baby, you begged for it."

Mulder lowered his head. A few seconds passed, then he picked his head up and looked directly into the other man’s eyes.

"I’m not drunk now."

The other cocked his head. "No, you’re not." He licked his lips. "What’re you after?"

"I don’t remember any of it," Mulder said in a steady voice. "I want to know."

The man grinned broadly. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it and shut his eyes.

"Ah, shit."

Mulder was about to ask him what was wrong, when he felt a presence at his back. A mouth, millimeters from his right ear, growled softly into it.

"What do you want to know?"

Mulder lost his breath and turned slowly as the other man slunk away. Coming face to face with the man belonging to the voice, Mulder stared into blazing green eyes.

"I..." he rasped softly. His gaze went from Krycek’s eyes to the hard set of his mouth. "...What’re you doing here?"

Krycek stared for a moment then reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a thick black strap with a silver buckle and...

Mulder’s eyes flew to the other man’s face. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Mulder’s eyes followed the line of Krycek’s arm, hanging loosely at his side and stopped on the object dangling from his fingers. He paused a while longer then took a tentative step forward. His gaze rose to meet Krycek’s briefly before he lowered his head. Long seconds later, he felt gentle fingers under his chin, lifting.

Alex searched twin pools of gray-green, lit with tiny sparks of amber before he lifted the collar and securely fastened it around Mulder’s neck. That accomplished, he reached into his other pocket and withdrew a black leather leash. He snapped the clasp on the heavy silver loop and, holding Mulder in a mesmerizing gaze, backed up slowly.

The slight tension on the leash jostled Mulder out of the haze he was in, and he followed, never breaking eye contact with the other man. Once satisfied that Mulder was with him, Krycek turned around and began to make his way through the crowd. Only then did Mulder really notice his attire. His cock noticed, too, and stiffened in intense appreciation.

In place of the usual jacket, Krycek was wearing another one. Black leather, but fitted. Much newer looking than the comfortable, worn one Mulder was so used to. It creaked softly when he moved. Black leather gloves. And his pants. Christ almighty, they were second-skin black leather pants that showed off the delicious curve of his ass to fucking perfection.

Krycek stopped walking and sidled up to the man he’d twice scared away from Mulder.

"I’d like a word with you."

The man turned and paled a bit when he saw who was standing beside him.

"Don’t worry; I’m not here to start anything." Krycek assumed a loose stance, draping the leash over his shoulder. "I just want to clear a few things up." He tossed his head in the direction of the man standing quietly behind him. "This is Fox. He’s mine. No matter where you see him... what he says, who he’s with. I trust you and your friends will all remember that, yes?"

"Yeah, uh...yeah. Sorry, man. It was an honest mistake. He didn’t look like... he wasn’t..."

"I know," Krycek said in an understanding tone. "And I apologize for the confusion. How about you, Fox? You want to apologize to the nice man for giving him the wrong impression?"

Deeply embarrassed but aroused beyond all reason, Mulder lifted his head and looked at the man. "I’m sorry," he said in a small voice.

Krycek used the leash to pull Mulder in close.

"Very good," he purred, reaching back to pet the other man’s head. "Let’s go, now. I feel like a drink." Krycek sauntered off, leading Mulder to the bar. Ordering his drink, he turned around and leaned back against the highly polished surface. His eyes traveled the length of Mulder’s body then came back up to rest on the older man’s face.

"You look good. But uh..." His gaze lowered and rested on Mulder’s chest. "...Lose the shirt."

Mulder stared as if he didn’t understand. Krycek flicked one finger at him.

"Let’s go."

"Krycek..."

Krycek held one gloved hand up.

"Alex."

"Alex?"

"Yeah. I’m not into that ‘sir’ or ‘master’ bullshit. Not with you, anyway." His eyes caressed the other man. "No. Call me Alex. Say it the way you did earlier. You know, when you were trying to turn me on and draw me out."

"...Alex..."

"Better."

"Alex, I don’t think I’d be comfortable with my shirt off."

"You accepted the collar," Krycek said softly. "You’re mine."

Mulder opened his mouth to argue, but the look in Krycek’s eyes stopped him. He swallowed hard then slowly peeled his shirt off. Krycek let go of the leash long enough for him to completely remove the tank then caught the swinging end.

"Very nice," Krycek whispered roughly. "Come here."

Mulder moved forward, stopping when they were only a breath apart. His lashes drifted down over his eyes as Krycek reached around and placed a hand on his ass.

"You were very upset tonight," Krycek rumbled, gently squeezing Mulder’ ass. "Why?"

"I..." Mulder fought to keep his thoughts together. "I’d been thinking about you since you left my apartment that night. And..."

Krycek just barely brushed his lips over Mulder’s.

"And... tell me."

"I...I wanted you to stay."

Krycek’s breath flowed over Mulder’s lips. "...Why?"

"I w-wanted you to..."

Krycek’s hand tightened on Mulder’s ass and jerked him into the hard cradle of his hips.

"To what?"

Mulder gasped a few ragged breaths, and he got the words out in a sobbing whisper.

"To fuck me."

The next thing he knew, Krycek’s mouth was on his, sucking, devouring, demanding for no less than his total surrender. Before he had a complete meltdown, Krycek released him and turned to pay the bartender and pick up his drink.

His head spinning, Mulder watched Krycek take a long swallow. He waited to have his attention again, and when he did, he moved in to brush his lips over Krycek’s, silently asking for another kiss. Krycek’s fingers tangled in his hair

and pulled his head away.

"You do nothing without my permission."

Mulder blinked and stepped back, lowering his head.

Think about this, Mulder, he said to himself. What are you doing? What the hell are doing in this place half naked, being led around on a leash held by Alex fucking Krycek?

If his mind couldn’t answer that question, his body sure as shit could. And it was in control.

"Let’s go for a walk."

Did he have to put it that way? Sounded like he was talking to a goddamn dog.

Mulder followed Krycek through the sweaty, thrashing mob through a doorway and down a flight of stairs to a...

He looked around, eyes growing wide.

A dungeon? He didn’t know this was here. How did Krycek know that this was here?

The sound of leather slapping bare flesh and cries of pain rose from all sides of the huge underground complex, making Mulder more than a bit nervous even as his cock throbbed in response.

"The amateurs stay upstairs," Krycek murmured. "Down here is where the serious players come."

Mulder stared at him. He’d obviously been here before. Mulder held a wave of unexplainable jealousy in check and looked around. His gaze fell on a man shackled hand and foot to a wall. His cock and balls were bound by an evil-looking contraption, his head covered by a latex mask, completely sealed except for the air holes in the nose, and another man, wearing nothing but leather pants was in the process of attaching silver clamps to his nipples. The shackled man’s head jerked back and forth as his chest arched away from the wall. The veins stood out on his neck, and a low, guttural sound gurgled in his throat.

"He’s in pain," Mulder whispered more to himself than anyone else, but Krycek heard.

"Of course he is," he purred. "It’s what he wants. It’s what he craves. That’s why he’s here." He moved toward Mulder then stepped behind him, letting their bodies just barely touch. His voice sounded again, in Mulder’s ear, soft and smoky.

"Pain is just pain, Fox. If delivered and received for the wrong reasons. But in a sexual context, it’s a whole different world. And pain between lovers is... exquisite."

Mulder’s eyelashes fluttered, and his chest rose and fell heavily.

"In my mind that’s what we were," Krycek said, lightly stroking Mulder’s chest. "All those times you beat on me. You had no idea, did you, that I actually got off on it?"

Even as Krycek’s hand gently caressed Mulder’s chest, the tension on the leash increased, forcing Mulder’s head back.

"I came in my pants, once," he whispered, his cock throbbing at the sound of Mulder’s labored breathing. While you were hitting me. You’d always struck me as such a dominant force, Fox. Imagine my surprise when you showed up here a few weeks ago." He tightened his hold a bit more and let his hand drop to the hard ridge in Mulder’s jeans. I drove myself crazy the last few weeks thinking about it."

Mulder’s eyes closed, and he tried to breathe through his nose.

"Don’t fight it," Krycek whispered, feeling the panic rise in the older man. He squeezed the bulge harder. "Just feel it."

Mulder’s body jerked as the lack of air and control increased Krycek’s stimulation of his cock tenfold. An explosive orgasm loomed, tickling every raw nerve, and he’d quickly reached the point where he didn’t give a fuck if he was found dead here in this dark, forbidding place wearing a collar and leash and no shirt, as long as he came first.

Krycek smirked, knowing that the dam was about to burst. He removed his hand from Mulder’s crotch and released the tension on the leash, and Mulder nearly collapsed at his feet.

Gasping and panting, Mulder managed a pained whimper as Krycek held him up tightly against his chest. A sound gurgled in his throat, and Krycek strained to hear.

"What is it?" Krycek asked, kissing the other man’s flushed cheek.

"Please."

The smirk returned.

"Please what?"

Mulder turned slowly and lowered his head to Krycek’s shoulder as he draped his arms around the younger man’s waist.

"Finish."

The smirk turned into a smile.

"No."

More whimpering.

"Not yet," Krycek soothed, petting the back of the golden-brown head. "You have some things to prove to me before I can reward you." He moved away and pulled gently on the leash. "Come with me."

Mulder followed Krycek to a door at the end of a long hall and came to a halt a few steps behind the other man. Krycek knocked twice on the door, and a bald man with hard chiseled muscles and facial features to match stepped out to greet them.

"Hey, Alex."

"C.J."

Fathomless, ice blue eyes slid past Krycek’s face to the man who stood behind him.

"This has got to be him."

"Yeah."

"You weren’t shittin’."

One corner of Krycek’s mouth tilted upward.

"We ready?"

We? Mulder let out an audible gasp. We?

"All set," the man called C.J. said, stepping aside and letting the two men enter.

Krycek felt Mulder hang back a bit, and he sensed the other man’s growing apprehension.

"Come on, Fox," he said softly but still making sure that Mulder heard the authority in his voice.

Mulder’s gaze flicked back and forth between the two, then he moved forward.

"Sit there."

Mulder walked over to the corner indicated and sank to the floor. He stared hard as the two men moved a few feet away and began a conversation which he could not hear. They were turned at such an angle that, even if he’d been proficient at it, Mulder would not be able to read their lips.

His eyes flicked back and forth between the two then began to wander around the room, taking in for the first time exactly what was in there.

A wooden table shaped like an X with restraints attached at each end. A supply of paddles, whips, floggers and the like hanging neatly by size. Masks, hoods, gags...clamps and chains, strappings of assorted degrees of difficulty...

His head turned to the opposite wall, and he found a large glass case display, containing dildos and vibrators of every length and thickness and texture.

Movement to his left drew his gaze away from the leather and chains...thing...suspended from the ceiling, and he focused on the man who was smiling at Krycek and donning a pair of long, heavy, black rubber gloves.

"No."

Krycek heard the soft gasp and turned to face Mulder.

"Did you say something, Fox?"

Mulder rose to his feet, casting a frightened stare on the two.

Why? Why did he have to bring someone else into it? If it had been just Krycek...just Alex, he would have. He wanted to. But...

"No," he rasped. "I can’t, I..."

Krycek cocked his head and moved toward the panicked man.

"Fox... it’s okay."

Mulder shook his head, looking from Krycek to the other man.

"Fox."

Almost brown eyes flicked back to Krycek’s face.

"This is pointless if I have to force you," Krycek said. "I mean truly force you. If this isn’t what you want, take the collar off and walk away. But remember one thing. Once you do, it’s over. Done. Not just for tonight."

Trembling, Mulder stared wide-eyed at the man he wanted more than he could express. Then he looked to the other, waiting quietly and patiently. He wanted to tell Alex... beg him to make the other man leave, and he’d stay. But that wasn’t part of the game. His duty, if he had chosen to accept it, was to obey Alex without question. And he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. And it hurt that Alex would want someone else to take part in something he considered to be a deeply intimate experience.

Hurt. That’s just a bit unreasonable, isn’t it?

Whatever his feelings were, he had neither the time nor the desire to analyze them now.

His eyes pleaded with Krycek even as he lifted his hand to the buckle.

Krycek’s face remained impassive, but there was something in his eyes. Some indistinguishable something. Or maybe it was just Mulder’s imagination.

He undid the buckle and removed the collar, holding it out to Krycek.

"Keep it as a souvenir," Krycek said softly then turned and began walking away.

Mulder felt a sickening pain stab at his stomach, and he took a deep breath before calling to the retreating man.

"Alex."

Krycek let the other man pass through the door before stopping and looking back at Mulder. He stared for a full five seconds before turning and walking away.

END