Disclaimer: Not mine. Theirs.
Rating: NC-17
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
warning.
Feedback: Whip me, beat me, send it to luvnick62@aol.com

An Old-Fashioned Love Story
by Frankie
=====

FEB. 14, 2000
JEH PARKING STRUCTURE
8:03 PM

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
shape?"

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 his head.
"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
choices."

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
door."

Mulder snorted. "I thought you assassin-type guys could handle anything."
He moved his hand, allowing Krycek to unlock the door to the apartment.
"Fine, you don't want to give my neighbors an eyeful."

"Get inside."

Pulling a mock frown, Mulder walked ahead of Krycek, then turned around
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 necktie. "Thanks,
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
hopefully.

"Keep dreaming," Krycek said, standing up. "You got anything to drink around
here?"

"Yeah, kitchen." Mulder laid out on the couch, playing with the tie. "Hurry
back."

"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
fu-"

He was cut off by something being placed over his eyes and tied tightly
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
and glasses.

"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 floor, then
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 bounce of
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.

"Getting comfortable."

"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 off his
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.

"Now what?"

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's bed.

"Oh, fuck."

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
motherfu-"

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, squeezing it
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 with every
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 you....god....a
little something extra for your...shit...that's it....your..birthday....."

The only indication that Wondermouth was listening was a playful chuckle as
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 quiet any
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 it."

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.

"Ohhhh...."

"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 ferocity with
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 Mulder
beneath him.

"Did I say that?"

THE END