Disclaimer: Not mine. Theirs.
Summary: Mulder and Krycek celebrate V'Day.
Notes: Response to the FC Valentine's Day challenge. It's unbeta'd, I
wasn't completely sober when I wrote it (though I have done my best to clean
it up), and it should carry a schmoop warning...well, my kind of schmoop
Feedback: Whip me, beat me, send it to email@example.com
An Old-Fashioned Love Story
FEB. 14, 2000
JEH PARKING STRUCTURE
The lone figure stood in the shadows, waiting for his target
to make his way
to the nondescript sedan. Mulder was late, as always, and with every passing
minute, Krycek found himself growing even more antsy. They'd agreed on this
meeting, the date being an ironic twist on their already twisted
relationship, and if Mulder had forgotten about it there'd be hell to pay.
"Right. See you tomorrow!" Mulder's voice echoed
through the parking garage
making Krycek straighten up as he prepared to step out from his hiding place.
An unexpected sound stopped Krycek in his tracks. Mulder was...giggling.
An anonymous voice shouted something back to Mulder, then the
sound of a car
door slamming and an engine starting. Krycek watched as his sometime lover,
full-time pain in the ass (not that the two were mutually exclusive), fumbled
with his keys, dropped them three times before finally getting his door
unlocked, then collapsed into the driver's seat.
"Mulder," Krycek said, sauntering over to the car,
leaning against the still
open door. "Did you forget something?"
Mulder looked up, startled and ready to be on the defensive.
"No. I just,
um, got a little distracted by the, uh, spirit of the holiday." He erupted
into a fit of hysterical laughter as Krycek watched him, his expression stony.
"You're fucked up."
"Nah..." Mulder waved his hand dismissively. "Just drunk."
"The FBI lets you drink on the job now?"
"Only on special occasions and when they don't know about
it." This must
have struck Mulder as extremely funny for he let loose another tirade of
chuckles before noticing Krycek's grim face. "You lon't dook happy, Alex."
Sneering, Krycek grabbed Mulder's collar and hauled him out
of the car. "So,
what's the occasion?"
"Pfft," Mulder waved his hand again. "Some
agent's girlfriend sent him some
hootch and we all partook. Made a boring day better. Made the sun shine
brighter. Made the-"
The rambling was cut off by a hard slap to his face.
"You gonna sober up, or do I have to kick your ass to
get you in fighting
Mulder swallowed hard, his cheek still stinging. "You
want a piece of me?"
This caused him to start giggling again, but he bit his lip in an attempt to
stifle it. He shook his head, sighing. "Alex, you really need to lighten
up. I mean, we're two grown ups, in theory anyway. Shouldn't we be able to
just tell each other we want to fuck without having to fight first?" He
patted Krycek's cheek. "You wanna fuck? Let's fuck. You wanna fight? Wait
until I'm feeling less amorous towards you." With that, he leaned his head
against Krycek's shoulder and began nuzzling the stunned man's neck.
"Uh, Mulder..." Krycek couldn't think of anything
to say. He had no idea
that simply getting Mulder drunk would produce this kind of behavior. But,
then again, he'd never really wanted to see this kind of behavior.
"Alex," Mulder whispered as he nipped at Krycek's
neck, "let's get out of
here and do this right. Sound good to you?"
Krycek released his grip on Mulder and stepped back, shaking
"What's the fucking point?" he asked, disgusted. He'd been looking forward
to a little bloodshed, not to dealing with this wussy drunk in front of him.
Mulder tilted his head to the side and sighed again. "I
was hoping you'd say
that." Before Krycek could react, Mulder had his gun out and was pointing it
between Krycek's eyes. "Okay, you've got two choices. One, you can try to
get the gun away from me, two, you can get shot, or three, you can drive me
home and we can fuck." He furrowed his brow. "I guess that would be three
Krycek's eyes narrowed. Considering Mulder's present state
of inebriation it
probably wouldn't be too hard to get the gun from him, but the prospect of
some hard, fast fucking without the inconvenience of bruised ribs and split
lips was becoming more and more appealing.
"Okay, I'll drive you home." He punctuated his statement
with an arrogant
nod of his head. "But if you're too drunk to get it up, I'll kick your ass
on principle alone."
Mulder grinned and reholstered the gun. "I knew you'd cave."
"I'm not caving." Krycek pushed Mulder out of the
way and got into the
driver's seat. "Get in the fucking car."
Walking unsteadily to the passenger side, Mulder winked at
Krycek and flopped
gracelessly into the seat. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "I
got you a present."
"What?" Krycek started the car and pulled out of the space. "What for?"
"It's Valentine's Day, moron." He turned his head
and looked at Krycek.
"You're the closest thing I have to a Valentine."
"Oh god," Krycek rolled his eyes. "If you're gonna get sappy..."
"Nah, not sappy. Wait 'til you see what it is."
Krycek cocked an eyebrow at the lascivious grin. "You *are* drunk."
"Just take me home, tough guy."
"Mulder, if you don't get your hand out of my crotch,
I can't open the front
Mulder snorted. "I thought you assassin-type guys could
He moved his hand, allowing Krycek to unlock the door to the apartment.
"Fine, you don't want to give my neighbors an eyeful."
Pulling a mock frown, Mulder walked ahead of Krycek, then turned
quickly. "Wait here."
Krycek shook his head and took off his jacket, watching Mulder
dash into the
bedroom. "This had better be worth it," he muttered to himself as he walked
into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.
Soon, Mulder reappeared, a long, thin gift box in his hand.
He thrust it in
Krycek's face and sat down next to him.
"What is it?"
"Okay, here's how this gift thing works. If I tell you,
there's no point in
you opening it. Since I want you to open it, I'm not going to tell you
what's inside. Does that work for you?"
"Smart ass." Krycek opened the box to reveal a red
Mulder, but I don't wear suits anymore."
"Ahh," Mulder took the tie out of the box. "But
this isn't going around your
neck..." He paused. "Unless you're into erotic asphyxiation," he said
"Keep dreaming," Krycek said, standing up. "You
got anything to drink around
"Yeah, kitchen." Mulder laid out on the couch, playing
with the tie. "Hurry
"Right." Krycek made his way to the kitchen and
looked through the cupboards
until he found a bottle of bourbon. Wrinkling his nose, he took it and a
couple of glasses back into the living room to find Mulder gone. "What the
He was cut off by something being placed over his eyes and
around his head.
"Mulder, what are you doing?" He sounded patient
and calm, but was a little
concerned about being at the mercy of a drunken partner. With his hands
full, he could either drop everything and take the blindfold off, or wait it
out and see (figuratively speaking, of course) what was going to happen.
"It's your tie," Mulder whispered into Krycek's ear,
the warm breath and
proximity sparking reactions in both men.
"Uh huh...and what am I supposed to do with these?"
He indicated the bottle
"Oh...um, lemme take those."
"But if you take your hands off me, I'm liable to take
off the blindfold,"
Krycek said mockingly.
"Fuck you, Krycek. Just put the damn bottle on the floor."
Krycek bent down, feeling the bottle thunk against the hardwood
gently set the glasses down, Mulder's hands never letting go of him. He
straightened up and assumed as arrogant a stance as he could muster. "Well?"
"God, you're so fucking cocky," Mulder whispered
in his ear before dragging
him toward the bedroom and shoving him unceremoniously onto the bed.
Krycek panicked at the push, until he felt the soft, comforting
what he knew was Mulder's bed under him. Inhaling deeply, he could smell
faint traces of detergent and Mulder. He was surprised that Mulder had
actually spent any time in his own bed, but was more than happy to start
wallowing in the bedclothes, surrounding himself with his lover's scent.
Mulder watched Krycek gather the sheets and blankets, puzzled
as to why he
seemed to be trying to burrow into them. Maybe Krycek had been drinking too.
"What are you doing?" Mulder's voice sounded a bit
unsure, and Krycek noted
that fact. He'd be able to take advantage of it any second now. Blindfold
or no blindfold, he was determined to control the evening.
"Well, stop it. You look like an idiot."
Krycek's ego was unable to deflect that particular blow and
he felt the wind
rush out of his sails. Before he could come back with his own biting remark
about Mulder, he felt his shirt being pulled up.
"Finish taking it off," Mulder ordered.
Krycek grunted and sat up, removing his blindfold, then taking
T-shirt. Mulder was undressing, for the moment oblivious to the fact that he
was being watched.
Mulder looked up. "Hey! Put that back on!"
"You just told me to take it off."
"The blindfold," Mulder said impatiently.
Rolling his eyes, Krycek put the tie back into place.
In lieu of an answer, he felt handcuffs being slapped on his
wrists and his
arms being forced over his head until he was secured to the headboard of
Mulder laughed and playfully slapped Krycek's face. "Not
so tough now, huh?
And I guess I'm not as drunk as I thought." He straddled Krycek's hips and
leaned down until his face was inches from his. "Have a good night, asshole.
I'll be on the couch."
Krycek felt Mulder move off the bed, then heard the bedroom
door close. No,
there was no way Mulder would leave him like this...not if he wanted to
survive their next meeting.
"Mulder! Mulder! You're not going to leave me like this!"
He took a deep
breath, forcing himself to regain his control. This wasn't so bad. It's not
like he was handcuffed out in the cold, right? Still, he didn't like being
so helpless, so out of control...
"Goddammit, Mulder! Get back in here!! I'm gonna kick
your ass you
He was cut off by pressure on his crotch. No, not just pressure
but a hand
groping him through his jeans.
"Mulder, what the fuck are you doing?"
There was no answer as the hand continued to knead his cock,
until Krycek started bucking his hips into the touch, wanting to feel
something more from it.
"Just get on with it, Mulder." Krycek's voice revealed
his frustration, and
he hoped it would sound threatening enough to spur Mulder into action.
Krycek was about to ask what the fuck Mulder was waiting for,
when he felt
deft fingers unfasten his jeans and start to slide them down his hips.
"You'd better take them all the way off," he said
absently, enjoying the
caress of air against his erection, but still uncomfortable that Mulder
wasn't saying anything.
The next thing he felt was his boots being removed and his
jeans being slid
off his body. Apparently, his wishes were being fulfilled even if Mulder was
being the strong, teasing, silent type at the moment.
A few minutes passed and Krycek felt his cock getting harder
passing second, anticipating the next touch of his pseudo-phantom lover.
"Mulder, you'd better run like the wind when you let me
go, because I'm gonna
kick your ass like you wouldn't---"
The tired tirade was halted the second the hot, wet mouth engulfed his cock.
"Shit....fuck..yeah..." Krycek was as coherent as
ever as the talented
tongue licked along the length of his shaft, teasing a playful ring around
the head before dipping into the slit, then voraciously sucking all of him
into an unrelenting, very welcoming orifice.
"Mulder...remind me to...ohhh..fuck....remind me to give
little something extra for your...shit...that's it....your..birthday....."
The only indication that Wondermouth was listening was a playful
he released Krycek's cock and two rough hands lifted and spread Krycek's legs.
"Fuck! Suck me off, assho....ohhhhh...oh yeah...."
The tongue that was suddenly lapping his asshole seemed to
protestations on Krycek's part, and he simply gave in to whatever Mulder had
decided to do to him. When the tongue started fucking him, he was sure he'd
lose it, but he managed to keep enough of his senses to control himself and
make a sudden move. Before Mr. Asslicker could react, Krycek had his legs
wrapped around him, his thighs, which had Mulder's neck in a death grip,
threatening to squeeze the life out of him at the slightest provocation.
"Mulder...." Krycek's voice was pure malice, but
still decidedly seductive,
"you've got a choice. Fuck me or die."
A strangled protest answered him and Krycek loosened his grip
long enough to
receive an answer.
"Fine...fine....shit, Krycek....take the romance out of it..."
"If I wanted romance, I'd fuck Fabio....now get on with
There was little hesitation as Krycek felt Mulder extricate himself from the
thighs of steel. The first touch of Mulder's cock to Krycek's ass was pure
bliss, and the rat bastard assassin allowed himself to surrender to the
sensation of Mulder's cock sliding into him, filling him, and, finally,
slowly fucking him.
"Krycek, you're so...ohh..fucking easy...."
The sound of Mulder's voice, so close to his face, shocked
Krycek a little.
He was uncharacteristically waiting for a kiss, but when it wasn't
forthcoming, decided to break yet another rule of the night and ask for it.
"Kiss me, fucker."
Mulder laughed, then attacked Krycek's mouth with the same
which he was currently fucking him. Krycek groaned, fighting his restraints,
as Mulder's mouth possessed him, his dick claiming the body beneath him. The
expert touch of Mulder's hand on his cock was just enough to send Krycek over
the edge, a flurry of colorful, creatively constructed curses flowing from
his lips as his orgasm overtook him, literally shaking him to his very
foundations. It wasn't soon after that Mulder allowed himself his own
release, his cock letting go, spewing his seed deep inside Krycek until both
men lay spent.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Mulder said, finally.
Krycek smiled. "Right. You've heard of the Valentine's Day massacre, right?"
"Sure," Mulder mumbled, rolling off Krycek.
"Unless you want to see another one, get these fucking handcuffs off me."
There was a heavy sigh as Mulder moved to release Krycek.
"Guess you didn't like my plan for the occasion, huh?"
Now freed, Krycek pulled the tie off his eyes and quickly pinned
"Did I say that?"