X-Files M/K
May 2004
Rated R for implied m/m sexual situations and language
The apartment was dark with the exception of a single lamp in the corner of the room. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata played softly as Alex Krycek sat sipping a glass of ‘85 Bordeaux. Buttery soft black leather enveloped him, cradling his body as it reclined against the sofa, and he stared intently into the deep ruby liquid before taking another drink.
It was after eight, and Mulder’s collar sat untouched on the table by the door. Krycek had come to the conclusion that either Mulder had thought about it and decided that Krycek could kiss his ass, or he was off somewhere, struggling with the decision to give himself to the last person in the world he should trust.
He could understand that. And he would forgive it. One, because Mulder wouldn’t be Mulder if he simply gave in without a fight...even if it was only with himself, and two, because he wanted the man. As desperately as he’d ever wanted anything. More. The mere thought of Fox Mulder in his bed...eventually...was enough to devastate his senses and completely ruin his concentration and his will.
And so he sat, listening to the music he always listened to when he needed centering, and he waited.
An empty bag sat on the bed, a week’s worth of clothes laid out neatly beside it. Fox Mulder stood at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He kept telling himself that he needed to stop staring at the stuff and either pack the bag or put it all away. It was getting late, and he had to decide now what he was going to do.
He looked at his watch. Even if he decided to go to Krycek at this time of night, he wasn’t even sure that he’d be welcome.
Closing his eyes, he tried once more to sort out the situation.
Alex Krycek, murdering, duplicitous, sneaky son of a bitch wants you. Worse, and even more insane, you want him. You let him slap a collar and leash on you and have almost total control. You let him talk to you and touch you in ways no one else ever has. And you’d never wanted anything more. Now he wants to ‘own’ you for the week, and you’re actually considering letting him. What the fuck is wrong with you?
See above statement, Mulder. You. Want. Him. As unreasonable as that sounds, it’s the truth. And aren’t you a big-ass proponent of the truth? Well, there you go. Now. Are you gonna throw this shit in that bag and get over there so you can put on a dog collar and sleep on the floor, or are you not?
Taking three long, deep breaths, Mulder moved toward the bed, packed his things into the garment bag and left the apartment.
Krycek set the long empty goblet down on the coffee table and sat back as the sound of the doorbell echoed then faded.
Well.
Almost nine-thirty, but he was here.
Krycek continued to sit long after the bell had rung a second time. The calming effects of the wine and the music dissipated almost instantly, and he refused to answer the door until he got his erratically beating heart under control.
He might have turned around and left by then, Alex, so hurry the hell up about it.
Two more breaths, and he got up and walked slowly to the door. Checking the mirror, he made sure that his game face was in place before swinging the door open.
There was silence as the two men stared at each other, then Krycek stepped back and motioned for Mulder to enter.
"Unpack your clothes so they won’t wrinkle," Krycek said softly by way of greeting. "There’s room in the closet in the other bedroom."
Mulder moved to do what he was told then remembered one thing. Coming back to the table by the door, he set his bag down and picked up the collar. He looked down at it for a brief moment before lifting it to his neck.
Krycek watched as Mulder fastened the buckle, then he reached out and stroked the other man’s cheek. Dropping his hand, he nodded toward the hall, and Mulder picked up his bag and set out for the spare room. Krycek waited a while then followed Mulder, leaning in the doorway, watching as the older man hung his clothes up.
He came. Holy shit, he came. And for a week at least, he’s yours.
The trick now was to keep him. Mesmerize him. Rock him so hard, he wouldn’t know what hit him.
Mulder hung up his last suit and, feeling another presence in the room, he turned around.
"Have you eaten?"
"I..." Mulder stopped to clear his throat. "I had something at around two."
"Are you hungry?"
"A...a little."
"I made dinner. Take off your clothes and come into the dining room."
Krycek pushed away from the wall and walked away, leaving Mulder to deal with what he was just asked to do.
Biting on his lower lip, he looked around at the room, taking in the tasteful, clearly expensive furnishings, and he wondered as he had when he drove up to this building last night, who Alex Krycek really was.
Wonder later. Get on with it.
Slowly, he stripped off his clothing, folding everything neatly and leaving it on the bed, then stepped in front of the room’s full length mirror. The sight of himself naked and fully aroused with that collar around his neck hit him hard, and he lost his breath.
God. Oh, Jeez. You’re gonna walk out there like this?
That’s what he wants. It’s what you want too, or you wouldn’t be so damn hard right now.
Mulder turned and walked out, finding the dining room easily enough. Krycek was waiting for him there, sitting at the head of a gleaming mahogany table. His eyes went almost black as they slid over the length of Mulder’s body, and it took everything he had not to clear the table, throw Mulder up on it, and fuck the hell out of him. Instead, he pointed to a spot to the immediate right of his chair.
Mulder took a steadying breath and moved forward, stopping in the indicated area.
Krycek pulled out the chair on his left and lifted an object from it.
Mulder bit back a sob as Krycek began to attach a series of bindings to his cock and balls. He’d never worn one of these things before, and the fact that it was Krycek putting it on him...holy shit.
"Turn around."
Eyes closed, Mulder obeyed.
"Hands behind your back."
An audible sigh shuddered past Mulder’s lips as he complied, and Krycek fastened a pair of leather cuffs to his wrists. He rose from his chair and turned the collar so that the ring was in the back, then he fastened a clip to it. Mulder thought it was the leash, but Krycek lifted his arms a bit, and there was another metallic clink as he attached what turned out to be the other end of the strap to the cuffs.
"What is this for?" He couldn’t not ask.
"Don’t question me, Fox," was all Krycek said before turning the older man around and pushing him down into the chair to his right.
But how the hell was he supposed to eat?
And as soon as his mind had asked the question, he found out.
Krycek moved Mulder’s dish between them, and he began to feed him.
"How is it?"
Mulder eyed the other man warily.
"It...it’s good."
"It’s only the second time I’ve ever attempted to make a lasagna. Some wine?" Without waiting for an answer, Krycek poured a glass and held it to Mulder’s lips.
"You’ve got the most beautiful mouth I’ve ever seen," he murmured as Mulder drank. "I never told you that. It was never a good time, I guess." He took the goblet away and traced the outline of Mulder’s damp lips. "So beautiful." He looked down at the exceptional length of cock, making no secret of the fact that he was doing so, and he smiled softly. "You remember that day at the pool when I came down to tell you about Duane Barry? I had all I could do to keep my eyes off the outline of your dick in those Speedos. I had dreams of dropping down on my knees and sucking you down my throat. I wanted to hear your screams echoing across the pool as you came in my mouth. Did you know that?"
Mulder cut off a moan.
"No, of course you didn’t. I kept that and a lot of other little secrets to myself." He fed Mulder another bite. "Did you have any secrets, Fox? Any thoughts about me you thought were better kept to yourself?"
Mulder closed his eyes.
"M-maybe one or two."
"When we were partners or after?"
"Both."
"Tell me."
"I used to...to watch you from behind when we were walking. I l-liked your ass. I always wondered what you’d do one day if I pulled the car over someplace secluded and..."
Another sip of wine.
"Did you think I was gay?"
"I didn’t know. I would just imagine that you were."
"What about later? All the times you were trying to kill me? Did you want me then?"
"Yes. M-maybe that’s why I went at you so hard. To keep myself from having to admit to what I really wanted. But even as I was beating you, I wanted to rip your clothes off and...fuck you," he answered honestly.
"When did it turn around?" Krycek asked, feeding Mulder the last of the lasagna. "How did we get to where we are right now?"
"I..." Mulder thought on the question. "I’m not sure. I don’t know why, but I rented a gay S&M video one night, and it fascinated me. I thought about it a lot. Then I rented some more. And I started to do research on the S&M culture. Looking back, maybe it wasn’t such a coincidence that I walked into that club that night. I don’t know.
"Anyway, I uh...I started connecting you to this new interest. To my mind it was a perfect fit. The mysterious, dangerous man in black leather. It seemed natural that you would be a top. And the more I thought about it, the more aroused I got. And the more obsessed I was. And when you showed up at that club, I..."
"If you hadn’t thought that C.J. was going to stay," Krycek asked softly, "you would have gone through with it, wouldn’t you? You wanted to so much."
Mulder bowed his head. "Yes."
"Look at me, Fox."
Amber splashed eyes lifted and focused on glittering green.
"Stand up."
Mulder got to his feet and waited as Krycek rose as well.
"Come with me."
The restrained man followed the other into the living room. Krycek took a seat on the sofa then looked up at him and patted his legs.
"Down. Over my knees."
Mulder’s cock jumped, and he stood frozen.
"I’m going to tack five more on if I have to tell you again."
Less than gracefully, Mulder bent his knees and draped himself over Krycek’s legs. Krycek could feel his body trembling, and he stroked the older man’s back soothingly.
"Relax, Fox. It’s all right."
Before Mulder could completely settle down, a hard slap landed on his ass. He yelped in surprise and pain, and Krycek gave him another.
"This is for letting all those men touch you that night. Not because you were mine when it happened, because you weren’t. You’re being punished because you allowed them to touch you when it wasn’t something you truly wanted. By getting drunk, you allowed yourself to be put in a vulnerable position. You’re better than that, Fox. Much better than that."
Mulder cried out as the next whack was delivered.
It hurt. And it was humiliating...so why was his whole body throbbing with pleasure?
Three more came in rapid succession, and it was over. Mulder whimpered softly as Alex pushed me to his knees and stroked his head.
"That’s it. Your punishment is over. We won’t talk about that night again."
Mulder bent over, laying his head in Alex’s lap, still whimpering as he nuzzled the younger man’s legs.
"Maybe it wasn’t so much of a punishment after all, huh?" Krycek asked softly, sifting his fingers through Mulder’s hair. "You’re so fucking beautiful," he whispered.
Practically purring under Krycek’s attentions, Mulder’s head moved a bit higher.
"Alex?"
"Yes?"
"Let me....can I...suck you?"
Krycek’s nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth and took a deep, steadying breath. "No, Fox," he said gently. "No sexual contact, remember?"
"But..."
Krycek’s fingers tightened in Mulder’s hair. "No arguments or you’ll sleep in these cuffs and cock ring. Do you understand?"
Mulder nodded, and Krycek released the almost painful grip on his hair.
"Good. Do you like classical music, Fox? I was listening to Beethoven before you got here."
"I like classical," Mulder said, trying to shift into a more comfortable position.
Krycek picked up a small remote and restarted the CD then pulled a small key out of his pocket and unlocked Mulder’s cuffs. The cock ring went next, and he spread his legs, encouraging Mulder to snuggle in between them. They sat quietly, Krycek stroking Mulder’s hair as they listened to the entire disk. When it finished, Krycek looked down at the golden-brown head nestled against his leg, and his flesh tingled.
"Fox?"
No answer.
He smiled and leaned down to kiss the side other man’s head.
"Fox."
"Hmm?"
"You fell asleep."
Mulder straightened up and rubbed at his eyes. "Oh. S-sorry."
"No need to be sorry about being tired. It’s late, and you’ve got work tomorrow. So. Let’s go. Bed."
Mulder pushed himself to his feet, blushing suddenly as he remembered his state of undress. Looking away, he waited for Krycek to get up, then he followed him into the bedroom.
"You know where the blankets and pillows are."
Mulder shuffled over and pulled out the same pillow and blanket he’d used earlier that morning, and Alex stopped him before he could return to his spot by the bed.
"Why don’t you use two blankets so you won’t have to wrap yourself all up?"
Mulder nodded and grabbed another blanket then proceeded to lay it out on the floor.
"If you need to use the bathroom, use mine," Alex said, unbuttoning his shirt. "You can shower in there in the morning, too."
Mulder was surprised at that but said nothing. He lay down on the blanket and pulled the other one up over himself and watched through his lashes as Krycek got undressed. His heart pounded, and his cock, which had gone to sleep earlier when he had, awoke and strained against the blanket.
Krycek had called him beautiful, but damn. The man was fucking incredible. Well muscled, perfectly proportioned body. Strong arms and legs, broad, powerful back tapering to a lean waist. Hard, round ass...thick, mouth watering cock as hard as his own...
Alex disappeared into the bathroom and a few minutes later, reappeared, walking by Mulder and climbing up onto the huge bed. Slipping between the sheets, he sighed softly as the silk brushed over his rigid cock. Wishing it was Mulder’s tongue, he contented himself to reach down and pet the older man’s head.
"Goodnight, Fox."
Mulder’s eyes closed as Krycek’s fingers repeatedly passing through his hair, soothed him.
"...Goodnight."
Krycek lay on the edge of his bed, looking at Mulder as he continued to stroke his hair.
Day one, short as it was, was over. A little light bondage tonight. A little light spanking just to see how he’d take it.
Tomorrow was Friday. The start of the weekend. Tomorrow night they’d get a little more serious.
END
