RATING: NC-17. M/K. If m/m interaction bothers you, you don't know what you're missing
SPOILERS: "Bad Blood," "The Red and the Black," "The Pine Bluff Variant," and "Folie a Deux."
SUMMARY: A bored and ticked off Krycek goes out looking for entertainment.
DISCLAIMERS: All things X-Files belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen, and Fox. Krycek's barroom provocation song is snippets of "Beers, Steers and Queers" by the Revolting Cocks. I'm just sharing and not making a cent off any of this, I swear! No infringement intended. Suing me would be a waste of time and a mean thing to do. I have no money. At all.
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com
NOTES: Thanks to Alicia, my gracious beta-reader, who reminded me at certain passionate moments in the narrative that having only one arm limits you a bit. And thanks for "and that was just this pay period..."!

The Affirmations for Personal Growth were sent to me by a friend who got them from another friend and doesn't know where that friend found them. The numbering is the way they were numbered in the e-mail I received. They're not my invention, though they're so good I wish they were. If you know where they came from originally, could you drop me a line so I can give credit where it's due? My full list of affirmations is available here.

By Viridian5

1. As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.
5. In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.
11. As I learn the innermost secrets of people around me, they reward me in many ways to keep me quiet.

As Alex Krycek rifled through the corpse's pockets he felt bored and terribly unappreciated. He deserved so much better. All he did was bring those old bastards the cure for alien possession at great personal cost. His reward? To be used as a chauffeur when they didn't have him back on thug duty, sanctioning people they wanted dead.

They didn't even want any artful murders. Alex knew he had a talent for artistic, baroque, and perverse deaths, and so did they. Any amateur could do the kind of work they had him on now. Just aim, shoot, and loot the body to make it look like a fatal robbery. Boring.

If they didn't give him more interesting things to do, he would have to get ugly with them.

2. I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else's fault.
23. A good scapegoat is almost as good as a solution.
28. I am learning that criticism is not nearly as effective as sabotage.

Alex knew he had trouble the moment he walked into the room and faced the full old bastard contingent, all of whom stared balefully at him. //Don't make me give you a good reason to look at me like that....// "What?" he asked, letting his annoyance crackle through his voice.

"That gentleman you sanctioned turned out to have knowledge we could have used. Now that resource is forever lost to us," the head foppish bastard said. His look and tone made it obvious who he blamed.

"How is that my fault? I thought you wanted me to follow orders without question. Do I have to give you a three day waiting period before I kill someone now? 'Hi, this is Krycek on Day #2. Do you still want me to terminate Target A?'"

"Mr. Krycek, you have to make things right. We need--"

"Oh, fuck you! I don't need this shit. I'm not taking the blame for anyone else. When you're ready to talk reason, you know how to contact me." He stomped out of the room, hand on his gun, hoping someone would follow and give him an excuse. No one did. Another disappointment.

Bored and enraged had always been a bad combination for him. If he didn't let off some steam soon, someone would die, and it might not even be the right someone if he got angry enough.

He needed to do something fun and malicious. If that something put out the Old Fogies' Club, all the better. His quick mind flipped through possibility after possibility and nixed them all until he remembered that night at Mulder's apartment.

The Consortium had wanted Alex to renew Mulder's faith in aliens, but it had been Alex's idea to throw in the kiss. Sort of. He hadn't meant to, but Mulder, despite being so enticingly helpless, wouldn't shut up or stop looking so sexy. And Alex had an impulse problem. So Alex kissed the side of that pouty face and, to his shock, felt the head turn toward him and his former partner's body melt into the floor. Mulder liked it.

The temptation to stay and take things as far as he could push them had been so strong, but Alex reined himself in and followed orders. The old bastards had plans for their favorite love/hate object, and a liaison with one of their operatives didn't factor into them. They wanted him to stay clear of Mulder until ordered otherwise.

But now--

Alex smiled. This could be fun.

3. I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.
4. I no longer need to punish, deceive, or compromise myself, unless I want to stay employed.
8. I honor my personality flaws for without them I would have no personality at all.
27. The complete lack of evidence is the surest sign that the conspiracy is working.

The blinking cursor and blank screen mocked Mulder. He had just deleted false start #14 from his attempted field report. He kept forgetting to avoid use of his splinted pinky finger, and nothing sounded right. What good would it do to write what he saw and experienced without the physical evidence everyone demanded he give them to back it up? As much good as it ever did.

//"But I saw it. It threw me around. Do you want to see the bruises?" "Agent Mulder, that's just not good enough...."//

Usually Scully filled out the reports in her characteristically skeptical manner, a style Skinner found more appropriate. Denying everything. Denying what she saw, what she felt, what her partner told her. Denying his sanity, what was left of it.... "I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason why that corpse got up off the slab and attacked the coroner once he removed the stake from its heart." "Giant bug? I didn't see any giant bugs...."

Scully had gone out on a date. Mulder knew he could have a social life too if he tried and that it would be petty for him to expect her to devote as much of her life to the X-Files as he had //all of it// but couldn't help feeling hurt.

He shouldn't. He shouldn't be surprised. Their years together had counted for nothing when she saw him involved in one suspicious situation and instantly decided that he had gone traitor. She had backed Skinner on the institutionalization. She had looked down, so superior, at Mulder in his restraints with eyes that said, "Well, I always expected this day would come. What a pity. You had so much potential and you wasted it all."

Her attitude lately spoke volumes: "I don't believe you. No one should. Can't you tell how insane you sound and look? You embarrass me. You're useless. I'm so tired of it all."

//You made a mistake; you started to expect things from her. Trust no one, and, most of all, expect nothing from anyone. That way you won't be disappointed...//

With everything that had happened in the last year, he should be entitled to a nervous breakdown, a glorious, dramatic fit of madness followed by a long rest. Being in the hospital showed him the stupidity of that idea. Aside from the fact that being in a room with almost no outside stimulation would only make him crazier, as it almost had a few days ago, if the homicidal giant bugs didn't get him, the Consortium thugs would.

He stood and stretched, feeling the fatigue that weighted his eyes and limbs duel with the electricity that wouldn't let him sleep. He dealt with it, as usual. Mulder was accustomed to squeezing work out of a recalcitrant body stricken with insomnia. He lived like this every day; it shaped his mind. A little coffee would help, and the latest pot should be done now. Yawning, he left the office.

He poured and immediately took a big swallow. He closed his eyes and felt warm tendrils of life-giving caffeine slowly diffuse through his body. Much better. He filled the mug to the brim again and brought it back to the office.

As soon as Mulder entered the room, he knew something was different, wrong, but couldn't immediately see the change. He put the mug down on the desk and his hand on his gun, then scanned his surroundings. Same old clutter and dinginess, nothing obviously out of place.

When he looked at the monitor, he saw a message typed in: GETTING CARELESS, AREN'T WE?

Even with that moment's warning, the rush took him by surprise. His assailant immediately ripped Mulder's gun holster loose. Mulder felt his fists and knee connect a few times but something struck his head and threw him back against the wall and pinned him there. Papers rustled, and pushpins poked into his back no matter how he moved. Despite his spinning head, he still struggled with an insane fury, especially with the memory of the institution's restraints so fresh in his mind. //They won't let me-- Paralyzed...//

"Stop. It," the intruder said before head butting Mulder again just hard enough to stun.

Mulder reeled back against the wall and finally got a dazed look at his assailant. Krycek. It horrified him to see Krycek in this office. Mulder had come to the point where he expected to see uninvited guests in his apartment--sometimes he thought he should put out a welcome mat and leave the door unlocked--but the office should have been safe from intrusion. Not from bugging, sure, but he didn't see how a known triple agent and traitor could walk into and through the building at night.

Mulder couldn't move, not with the other man blanketing almost every part of his body. He felt Krycek's heart pounding in time with his own and harsh breathing on the side of his face. And Krycek's erection against his leg.

Not too far from his own.

Mulder didn't know why he felt so excited either. So awake and alive. Had to be the adrenaline rush. "Why are you here, Krycek? Do you have another military base you want me to break into, another alien visitation to almost witness?" he gasped.

"It seems to me, Mulder, that we have some things in common," Krycek said softly. Mulder realized that sometime during the fight he'd ripped Krycek's prosthetic arm loose; only the leather jacket's cuff stopped it from dropping to the floor.

//Maybe I should go berserk more often. I almost kick ass that way.// "Oh, please."

Krycek's breath stirred the fine hairs on Mulder's neck. "It's true. The people who think they're in charge of us keep giving us shit. They don't understand. I'm my own boss. You could be too, if you dared."

Something perverse in Mulder made him ask, "If I dared, I could be your boss?"

Krycek grinned darkly. "You can try," he purred.

//Get away from me. Stop looking at me like that. Please, stop.// Mulder felt Krycek's heat against his skin, felt his every breath. It felt so good to be touched, by anyone. So good to hear another voice, even if it taunted him. //He's not fighting fair. Oh, right. This is Krycek. Does he ever fight fair?// His knees felt weak, and he was afraid that he would slide down the wall if his former partner moved away from him. //Pathetic.//

This time the kiss went straight for Mulder's mouth, and he opened wide to receive the tongue that asked for entrance. He felt his head being pressed back against the wall into the thicket of pushpins, but the pain seemed miniscule compared to the hot sparks of pleasure suffusing the rest of his body as his former partner rubbed and ground himself against Mulder. Then Krycek started a kind of teasing dance, stroking his pelvis against Mulder's and then withdrawing and then coming back.... It drove Mulder insane anticipating the next pass, and the fact that Krycek varied the intervals, the pace, only increased the frustration. He throbbed and ached with lust.

//With all the terrible things he's done to me and Scully, why is this so easy?//

5. Having control over myself is almost as good as having control over others.
20. I honor and express all facets of my being, regardless of state and local laws.
30. To have a successful relationship I must learn to make it look like I'm giving as much as I'm getting.

//I didn't think it would be this easy.// Alex had expected the usual recriminations about killing Bill Mulder and more of a struggle. The fight Mulder had given him had been more effective than usual and would leave bruises, but since Mulder was putting out, Alex decided to be magnanimous. He had actually looked forward to banging Mulder's head against the wall a few times, though. Not that this quick acquiescence and sweet submission didn't have their appeal....

When Mulder stretched, baring his elegant neck, Krycek first sucked at the Adam's apple presented to him so prettily, then let his teeth graze the skin over the carotid artery. If he bit down hard enough, his former partner's life would gush out over his lips. Did Mulder realize? Something about the sounds Mulder made suggested to Alex that he did-- and liked it? Didn't care? Wanted to die? Found it kinky? Alex knew himself to be the Consortium operative most skilled at screwing with Mulder's head, but that convoluted brain often worked in ways that mystified him too.

He nipped at the skin instead, making sure to leave marks in places the shirt collar wouldn't hide, and felt Mulder purr. The body beneath him vibrated with lust and pent-up energy. Mulder whimpered every time Alex pulled away.

//All work and no play makes Fox a really vulnerable boy.// Then again, Mulder had been through a lot lately, like a near execution and an involuntary committal... and that was just this pay period.... //Huh. If I were him, I'd want someone to just fuck me blind too.

//Well, if you're really good, I'll show you one hell of a good time.//

"I'll be good," Mulder whispered, shocking Alex. He knew he hadn't said anything aloud.

Alex pulled back a little, grinning at the incoherent protests, and took some time to enjoy the sight of his handiwork. Eyes heavy- lidded and half-closed, lips parted and damp, face slightly flushed, Mulder looked delicious. His dress shirt had the sleeves rolled up and collar unbuttoned. A boring dark blue tie, so unlike the wild and tasteless ones he used to wear, still hung, loosened and slightly undone, around his neck. //Oh, the things I can do with that. Why didn't I try this years ago?//

The thought of fucking Mulder in this office only added spice. Mulder's sanctuary and external model of his odd brain, and soon he would willingly get reamed here by his worst enemy. //Who says I have no sense of romance?//

He undid Mulder's pants slowly, the only way he could with one arm, but the struggle only seemed to excite the older man further. His hand slipped in to caress, and Mulder bucked into his palm. Completely helpless and under his power. He could kill Mulder, reject him....

Well, maybe not reject him. Given the state of Alex's own insistent arousal, rejecting this became less and less of an option every second.

Then paranoia kicked in. //This is too easy, not to mention a bit out of character.//

When he stepped away, Mulder actually started to slide down the wall. Alex grabbed his arm and flung him onto the chair, which rolled with Mulder in it until it hit the wall. Mulder just sat there and licked his lips.

"It won't work," Alex said.

"What won't work?"

"Your distraction."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come on. You keep me distracted until help arrives."

Mulder looked almost contemptuous. Sultry too, with his eyes still heavy-lidded and lips still slightly parted, but mostly disdainful and amused. "You must have the wrong person. I'm the FBI's Most Unwanted. I don't have people ready to pound down the door to rescue me. And people think I'm paranoid."

//Good point. What was I thinking? The Bureau leaves him hanging out to dry on a daily basis, when they're not dangling him in front of militia groups or letting their shadow companies use him for target practice.//

"Do tell." Alex moved in until he stood at the edge of Mulder's feet and took a speculative look down. "That gives me so many options."


Surprised, Alex kneeled and leaned into Mulder. "When did you go insane, Mulder?"

"Maybe it was when the big nasty leaned over my bed to kill me while I was helpless. Maybe it was when I was kneeling with that gun to the back of my head." His eyes had gone dark and almost seemed to swirl. "Or maybe I've been insane longer than that. Maybe it happened one night while I was sitting on the floor of my living room with a former partner holding my own gun on me."

"I know when," Alex said softly as he moved in closer, putting his face directly in front of Mulder's. "It happened when you were alone in that sterile hospital room, tied to the bed, alone, with nothing to occupy that quick mind of yours aside from the knowledge that everyone you trusted thought you should be put away for your own good."

The formerly insouciant voice turned softer, sounded hurt. His eyes closed. "Maybe." That was more like it.

It made Alex feel oddly tender toward him. "You're not insane, Mulder. You've just been kicked around, and you're tired." //I thought you came here to mess with his head. You do remember that, right?

//Can you also remember that Mulder isn't exactly fighting you off?//

The loosened straps from Alex's prosthetic rubbed and chafed, so he took off the leather jacket, then the sweater, and finally the prosthetic itself, making a show as he stripped. Mulder's dark eyes took in the stump and scars with an inscrutable expression, but the fluorescent light seemed to sparkle in them. //It's like looking into space....// Then Mulder licked his lips again.

Alex all but launched himself into the waiting lap and ravaged a mouth that retained the rich, bitter flavor of coffee. Long fingers sought out every scar on his arm and torso and trailed down them with blunt nails. The feel of the splinted finger against Alex's bare skin made him especially crazy, the warm metal and rough gauze tape raising goosebumps.

He pulled Mulder out of the chair and cleared the cluttered desktop with an impatient swipe that just barely missed the coffee cup and laptop computer. They feverishly divested one another of pants. Alex reached back into his jacket and expertly rummaged for a condom and a tube of lubricant. He slapped the condom down on the desk but put the tube to immediate use.

As Alex's slick fingers thrust into Mulder, the older man moaned and gasped, "I always did like a man who knows what he wants and makes plans for it."

"Then you'll really like this. Put the condom on me."

Mulder's hands stroked and teased the condom on, then applied more lubricant. Unable to wait any longer, Alex bent Mulder over the desk and thrust in. Alex grinned as he heard the older man make some incredibly incoherent sounds. Once he felt securely placed, Alex grabbed that boring tie and started to use it as a choke collar, with Mulder gasping encouragement and helping Alex's other effort by moving his hips, sending each thrust deeper. //If I'd known you could be like this, I would have jumped you years ago, I swear!// Alex rode the older man hard, using every movement of the writhing ass under him to further bring himself off and create more friction for his thrusts. Mulder came almost immediately onto the desk. Alex finished soon after and collapsed, panting, atop his //once and future?// partner's back.

When Alex loosened the tie, Mulder took a deep breath and rasped, "Was I good?"

Alex stroked his lover's hair. "Unbearably good." As good as it felt where he was, he dismounted and started to clean himself up. He couldn't stop grinning. "I should get you out of here. Too depressing."

Mulder had started to clean up the desk, giving Alex a great view of his ass. "Do you have anything in mind?" He'd somehow avoided making a mess of himself. Alex respected that kind of presence of mind under pressure.

"I always do." Alex took almost as great a joy in dressing Mulder as he had in undressing him. Alex rearranged the dress shirt and tie back exactly as they were before, put the pants back on him, tucked Mulder's gun in the waistband, and finished it off with his own battered leather jacket. It created an incongruous but undeniably sexy effect. "Help me dress?"

Mulder's eyebrow raised and stayed there, but he obeyed and asked, "What do you have in mind?" as he buckled the prosthetic back on.

"Trust me."

"You're kidding, right?"

9. I am grateful that I am not as judgmental as all those censorious, self-righteous people around me.
13. The first step is to say nice things about myself. The second, to do nice things for myself. The third, to find someone to buy me nice things.

The moment they walked into the bar, Mulder knew Krycek had to be out for blood. By some unerring instinct, the triple agent had located one of the most disreputable country/western bars, populated by some of the most disreputable cowboy wannabes, in the District of Columbia. It even had sawdust on the floor and a rundown-looking mechanical bull.

Their clothes alone would have made them stick out from the rest of the clientele: Krycek in tattered dark sweater, scuffed biker boots, and worn black jeans and himself in the rumpled remnants of a business suit topped with a leather jacket. Only the guns they had tucked into their waistbands fit the dress code. While Krycek had stayed close and touched Mulder on occasion during the trip here, he now escalated his attentions //not that I really mind....//, acting very grabby and even nibbling Mulder's ear once before giving the bartender a huge smile. //We should have just worn signs saying: WE'RE FAGS. KICK OUR ASSES.//

The bartender and ten drunken, hulking rednecks occupying the bar turned almost identical looks of righteous anger their way. Krycek leered back. Terror shot through Mulder's stomach but with it came an excitement he couldn't recognize. It confused him.

//Confused describes it all, doesn't it?// Mulder couldn't believe that he'd had sex with Alex Krycek or that he'd enjoyed it or that he felt oddly happy about it even now. //He bent me over the desk in my office and fucked and choked me to orgasm, and I begged him for it....// Wearing Krycek's leather jacket provided a constant reminder. Aside from the obvious rich scent of leather, it smelled of metal, gunpowder, blood, and Krycek in a way that kept distracting him.

As Krycek, hand on his arm, solicitously guided Mulder to a table, Mulder could finally make out the words of the droning, twangy song a truly wretched country/western band was playing from behind a chicken wire cage. Something about the whining singer's wife cheating on him, so he had to shoot her. //What am I doing here?//

Mulder kept his hand on his gun as he waited for Krycek to get back with their beer. He could feel the tension spiking in the room, especially with his former partner provoking everyone around him.

Krycek came back smirking with two bottles of beer. "Do you like Foster's? It's Australian for beer."

"I don't drink very often."

"That's okay." He opened each bottle with a practiced twist, a neat trick for a one-handed man and some show of strength, and set one on the table in front of Mulder.

"What are you doing?"

"I just flirted with every greaseball in the room, then told the bartender I didn't want some weak American beer. It's only a matter of time now." Louder, he said, "Look at that one in the chaps. Maybe we did wander into a gay bar."

"I don't want anyone to find my corpse here, especially if it's wearing your jacket."

"Oh, c'mon. If they were real terrors they would have attacked by now. They may be too wimpy for my tastes." Krycek took a long swallow of his beer, tonguing the neck of the bottle in a way that made Mulder squirm. "Though I may have to shoot the band first," he said loudly. "You call that music? I'll give you music."

Krycek started to shout, "'Now, let's you just drop them pants.'/ '...Drop?'/ 'Just take 'em right off.'/ 'Come on, squeal! Squeal! EEEEEEEE!'/Minds are empty, heads are hollow/ You might find out the truth is hard to swallow/ There's a place down there, where heads are square--"

This finally provoked the rednecks enough that they rushed Krycek in a group. Mulder went immediately into partner-in-danger mode and let the first drunk's momentum help Mulder throw him into the wall. Then the next one came. Krycek never stopped singing as he kicked asses.

"...It doesn't take much to kill that guy/ Don't get in my face and ask me why.../ Texas is the place/ HANG 'EM HIGH!!!!/ Beers, steers, and queers..."

Mulder grabbed one attacker by his greasy hair and beat his head against the table. Krycek pistol-whipped one while he kicked in the balls of another.

"...Let's go down, herd 'em up/ If you agree, then let's word 'em up/ And if you don't.../ THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Krycek accented that line by shooting his gun at the band, which finally stopped playing. "Beers, steers, and queers/ 'Now, let's you just drop them pants'/ I've spent my life, go kicking shit/ Not gonna give up, ain't about to quit/ Life is a bucket of .../ Gettin' rough, feeding stock/ Get in my way/ I'LL KNOCK YOU OFF/ Beers, steers, and queers..."

Mulder took a punch to the side of the head but didn't even feel it. His redneck got knocked down when Krycek flung one of his attackers at him.

"I'm a crazy mother in a drunken state/ A redneck asswipe who thinks he's great/ So full of shit, diarrhea for fingers/ Everywhere I go, personality lingers/ Say you don't like.../ I don't give a damn, so fuck your respect/ If you're looking for a reason, don't go any farther/ 'Cuz I'll give it to you baby, like to your grandmother/ Take what you get if it does the job..."

When the last attacker went down, the bartender brought up a sawed-off shotgun and aimed it at Krycrek. Without even thinking about it, only seeing his partner in danger, Mulder drew his gun and fired a warning shot at the bar near the man's groin. "Put it down now!" Mulder shouted. The bartender dropped the shotgun and put his hands up.

Krycek laughed, slapped Mulder on the back to show his approval, and ended his performance. "...Beers, steers, and queers/ 'This is our house, and our house music. I am the creator.'" He looked around at the devastation and sprawled bodies. "Having fun yet?"

Mulder tucked his gun back into his waistband. "I've really lost it," he said softly. "I'm going to get identified for this and get sent to the hospital for good."

"Don't worry. No one will report this one. Besides, you don't look like yourself. Go clean up in the men's room while I finish things up out here."

Mulder had taken five steps before he realized that he had meekly accepted an order from Krycek. He kicked the bathroom door open and immediately started to breathe through his mouth in self-defense. If he didn't already get nightmares, this room would give them to him.

//"Besides, you don't look like yourself." What did he mean?// Mulder glanced into the five square inches of clean mirror available and couldn't turn away. The Mulder who looked back at him had an excited, hungry look in his eyes and a twist to his smiling mouth that lent him an air of danger.

//Is that really me? Oh, shit, I'm having an episode.// He didn't know the dangerous, sensual person reflected back at him, but he wanted to.

"Looking good, Mulder," Krycek said from the door. He grinned and spun to show off the brown leather chaps he must have stolen from one of their attackers. They were a bit big on him and gave the impression that he was a child playing dress-up. That and the grin were oddly endearing. //I just used the word "endearing" in connection with Krycek. I must be nuts.//

Krycek came up behind Mulder and put his arm around the older man's neck, pulling him back into an embrace. He nibbled at Mulder's neck, and Mulder sighed and rubbed himself on the erection he felt prodding him. //When did I become such a slut?// Krycek, apparently confident that his partner didn't intend to leave, moved his hand down, teasing Mulder's nipples through his shirt, sliding over ribs, until it reached the older man's groin. Once there, it massaged in slow circles. //Well, that's why....//

Mulder leaned back further and moaned, "I should have known that fight would make you horny." The stench and filth all faded away as his body concentrated on more important things.

"Don't you like it?" He put more pressure into his stroke.




"Yes, then. Do you like the chaps? I always wanted a pair. I would have taken a cowboy hat too, but the hair grease prevented me."

"Did you at least shoot the band?"

Krycek laughed, making his hand jump a little, which in turn made Mulder whimper. "If fucking you gets this kind of result every time, I should never stop. But not now and not here." His hand suddenly gripped.

Mulder yelped. "I need those. Damned tease," he said in a strangled voice.

"You'll get them back soon." Krycek grabbed Mulder's tie and used it as a leash to lead him out. Mulder went back and forth from aroused to enraged over this treatment. //Why am I letting him do this to me?//

When they walked into the main room Mulder saw rednecks sprawled out on tables, on the floor, on the bar, near the door.... //This is not a Dr. Suess story. At least he knocked the band out.// Some of them might not still be alive, but somehow Mulder felt disconnected from his usually scheduled conscience. As they reached the door, Krycek stopped and turned to give Mulder a kiss, open-mouthed, full tongue, that made him shake with lust. //This is why I let him treat me like this.//

Krycek pulled back and smiled as Mulder followed, trying to get back to where they left off. "Patience, Mulder." He took a better hold on the tie and let Mulder out the door and deep into a nearby alley. Then he resumed his attack on Mulder's groin.

"We could have just done it in the men's room. Not much difference," Mulder gasped. When a rat ran over his feet, he said, "Actually, the bathroom might be cleaner."

"Of course there's a difference. We're outside. I can feel the night air on my skin." Krycek unzipped and pulled down Mulder's pants, exposing Mulder's hard, already weeping cock. "Can't you?"

The cool air combined with the warmth of the fingers that stroked and squeezed his cock made Mulder writhe. "Yes," he hissed.

"Good. Strip me."

"All the way?"

"You could leave the sweater. Then you're going to fuck me until I come screaming your name. Do you have all that, or do I have to go over it again?"

"I think I have it."

"Good. Now get to it."

6. My intuition nearly makes up for my lack of self-judgment.

Alex felt a moment of trepidation as he gave his commands. Mulder, his eyes black and gleaming with an almost mindless lust, certainly looked amenable, but who knew when his usual self would kick back in and blow it all to hell? //But I want this; I need this.//

Mulder gave him a look and then proceeded to slowly unbuckle the chaps, "accidentally" brushing briefly against his groin every so often. The older man removed Alex's jeans and boxers in slow, sensuous slides. Stroke. Stroke. Stroke... until they were all pooled around his ankles, hobbling him. //Wait a minute....//

Mulder abruptly turned Alex to face the brick wall. His hand came up under the sweater to pinch and tease Alex's nipples, while his tongue started a path at the small of the younger man's back and drifted down the crack of his ass before finally circling the puckered opening. Alex sighed, then shrieked his appreciation as the tongue thrust in at the same time Mulder pinched his nipples. //It's always good to be in the hands of a man who knows his business....//

Mulder's hands drifted lower until one stroked the underside of Alex's cock while the other toyed with his balls. "If you don't fuck me now, I'm going to come without you," Alex said. He bit back a protest when Mulder's hands and tongue abandoned him, leaving him shivering in the cool air. Alex heard foil tear and smiled. It hadn't taken Mulder long to find the right gear in the jacket. The comical ffft! of the lubricant tube spitting out its contents made Alex smirk.

The feel of the warm lubricant being spread into him made him shudder. Warm because Mulder had carried it in the jacket, held near his chest, heating it with the warmth of his own body. //If you're going to think yourself into coming, what do you need him for?// Then he felt the pressure of Mulder's cock starting to ease into him. //Oh, yeah, that's why.//

"Just give it to me," Alex said, trying to keep a needy whine out of his voice. "Hard and fast."

Cool, cool voice. Damn him. "Are you sure?"


"If you insist."

Alex felt the first thrust all the way to the back of his teeth. "Yes!" he screamed. Taking that as encouragement, Mulder continued. So hard, so deep, so good.... The friction alone did terrible things to Alex's self-control. Mulder's weight and heat all along his back only added to a growing, overwhelming pleasure that felt as sharp and bright as a knife edge. And as beautiful and deadly....

Then Mulder's hand started to work Alex's cock, stroking, squeezing, pinching. Alex's mind dissolved, and he came with a roar before going limp in his former partner's embrace. As he leaned back, breathing hard, he realized that Mulder had stopped moving inside him, even though Mulder hadn't reached orgasm himself. Inhuman self-control or something else?


"You forgot something." His hands left Alex's cock. Alex tried to look back to see what he was doing but couldn't.


"My name. You said you'd scream it as you came."

"Maybe you just didn't work hard enough to deserve it."

Then Mulder's tie fell down in a loop around Alex's neck and began to tighten as Mulder started to move again. Terror choked Alex about as hard as that slip of silk did. //Stupid, Alex! When he's sane he tries to kill you, and you left yourself completely open to him while he's insane?// He struggled, but Mulder had a firm grip on the tie and continued to pump.

Alex felt his chest trying to explode and saw lights and colors in the growing blackness. Every touch of the cool breeze and movement Mulder made reverberated through his body in bolts of pleasure. //I'm going to die, and I'm going to come... again.// When Mulder exploded inside him, the tie tightened one last time, sparking flowers of blinding light in the darkness that started to envelop him, and he fell into the roar of what could have been a second orgasm. //MULDER!//

The tie loosened. The first rush of air tasted so sweet and hit Alex like pain at the same time. He gulped it. "You son of a bitch," he rasped.

"What's good for the goose, Krycek," Mulder gasped. "I can tell you liked it from the way you clamped around me tight enough to almost take my cock off."

"I didn't scream your name."

"Sure you did." Mulder pulled him back into a tighter embrace.

//Smug bastard,// Alex thought but settled back into a moment of peace. He had Mulder inside and behind him after some of the most explosive sex he'd ever had. He'd just cut a swath of pain and fear through a bunch of redneck asswipes. He'd flipped off the Consortium. Life was pretty good.

"What now?" Mulder asked, still breathing hard.

Alex grinned. "I take you home."

22. False hope is better than no hope at all.

Smiling, Alex lazed in bed. He idly stroked his fingers through his lover's soft hair and stretched just so he could better feel the legs still entwined with his own. Few things made him happier than waking up after a great night of sex and violence.

He rarely wasted time on regrets, but right now he regretted having to live his life on the run. If he had a permanent residence he could install Mulder there as his favorite sex toy. //One night, and you're already picking out china patterns and dreaming of a dungeon built for two. When did you turn so mushy and sentimental?//

The older man's stamina had surprised him. They'd had sex three more times after they reached the hotel room, never mind the heavy petting in the cab on the ride here. Mulder had a talent for giving blowjobs that amazed Alex. It reached the point where he would touch Mulder, and they would both be ready to go again. Alex could get used to a life of non-stop sex occasionally interrupted by a good fight. Maybe he could do both at once too. This was Mulder after all.

Mulder burrowed into his side, then looked up and asked, his eyes and voice blurred with exhaustion, "What time is it?"


"Oh, shit, I have to go to work...."

"Take a vacation."


"I know this is a foreign thought to you, but take a vacation. Take some time where you don't have to deal with vampire towns or homicidal bugs."

"What would I do with my time?"

"You could spend today in bed with me." Alex kissed him deeply.

"I would feel so lazy."

"I'd make sure you had things to do with your time."

Mulder grinned. "Then keep me busy."