Disclaimer: If anyone might think the X-files were my idea, he's wrong.

Ratings:NC-17; slash;M/K. If you are under 18, don't read this.

Spoilers: About every Krycek-episode, Small Potatoes, Fight the Future,
several conspiration episodes.

Plot Summary: At the end of the world Mulder has to realize his true feelings

Thanks to my beta-readers

I haven't seen season six yet, so if anything I've written is in
contradiction with the events of the actual season, I don't care.

I wrote on this until my wrist hurt, so please honorize my efforts with
feedback at mochr.hoefig@waischenfeld.baynet.de

by Ratwoman

They knew they had lost.

Time was running out. Weeks, days, hours... they didn't even know how much -
how little - time was left, until it began. Until the aliens would take over
the world, and there was no way to stop them. No matter what they had tried,
they had always failed. And not even the Bounties would help them anymore.
And the invaders didn't want to share the world with the natives.

Sometimes Mulder thought it was a law of nature that the strong always killed
the weak. The Europeans, his own ancestors, had almost wiped out the Indians,
taken their land, forced them to live only in the waste areas, killed them
whenever they dared to rebel against the injustice. Just the same had
happened to the Aboriginies in Australia. Now another force was coming to
colonize, spread out on earth. Now all humans were the natives who had to
make room for the colonists. Which meant to die.

Mulder gazed over the table at Scully. Why was she telling him all these
stories about her family, about her brother Bill? About his and his wife's
plan for another baby? It would never see the light of day, Scully knew that
as well as he. In the end, even she had to see it.

Was that her way to handle the fear, acting as if everything was alright? Or
was she trying to take regard to him, trying to take his mind off the
unavoidable? Since he knew her she had always taken regard on him, always
been the strong one, even when she had been dying.

Mulder watched her talking without listening to her words, viewing her hair,
her eyes... she was avoiding to meet his gaze, as if she didn't want him to
see how she really felt.

Mulder paid the bill for the dinner, the first time she had accepted his
invitation to go out. Today she had not answered that she had to work on a
few files. The world was dying, why wasting their time for overtime?

Of course they would live on as always until it began. They didn't know what
else to do; and the population did not know yet about the coming invasion.
Weeks ago, Mulder would have said that the public in any case would have to
be informed, but now... he had not yet decided wether to tell the press. When
he looked at the people in the restaurant, laughing groups of friends,
couples in love, he doubted wether it was really right to tell them what was
going to happen. They would panic, none of them would be able to enjoy their
last days anymore.

They took on their coats and left, Mulder driving Scully home. They were
chatting about nothings during the ride, never allowing silence to part them.
Or to unite them?

They also stayed in front of Scully's flat for awhile, talking to each other,
never reaching each other.

"See you tomorrow at work?" Scully finally asked.

"Yes, of course." Mulder replied. //Please, sleep with me.//

"Well, then." Scully said just to say something.

Small and perfect she stood at the door, and Mulder hoped she'd let him in
for a cup of coffee and more, not daring to ask a person so perfect for
anything intimate. But she just wished him goodnight and hugged him like a
friend. Like the friend she was, his best, his only friend. Better not
change settings, 'cause if they were lovers, would they still be friends

Mulder watched her vanishing in the house, wishing to hold her small, perfect
body forever.

Damn! Maybe this had been his last chance to show her how much he really
loved her. Eddie van Blundt had been right - he was a loser, a loser who had
chosen to be a loser.

Or was it that he really didn't want to change their platonic relationship,
even if the world was going to crumble?

A dark figure picked the lock of Mulder's apartment, slipped inside and hid
in the shadows, waiting.

Mulder returned into his apartment, feeling empty. He dropped himself onto
the couch, grabbed the remote control and switched on the TV, arbitrarily
zapping through the channels. Beside soap operas there were lots of news
about war, pollution, crime. With a sardonic smile Mulder thought they'd
exterminate themselves anyway even without the aliens' "help". Mulder stopped
at a porno movie, but watching the bodies moving didn't make him feel any

He recognized the sound of someone moving behind him too late. A handcuff
closed around his right wrist and chained him to the armrest of the couch.

"What the hell...!" Mulder cursed.

"Just to make sure you listen to me - and don't beat me." a voice Mulder
would have been able to pick out of thousands answered. Alex Krycek.

He appeared out of the dark that seemed to be a part of his soul. Actually,
he walked around the couch to stand in front of Mulder. The FBI-agent stared
gloomily at the young man. Fate seemed to be determined not to let the world
end without him being confronted with that rat bastard again.

"You've been careless, Mulder." Krycek said switching off the TV.

"Careless?" Mulder repeated flatly.

"Yes, I could creep up to you in your own apartment." Krycek replied. "And
you claim to be a Special Agent?"

Mulder wished nothing more than to wipe that arrogant smile off Krycek's face.
Too bad, that the handcuffs kept him on the couch.

"What do you want, Krycek?" he spat out.

A vulnerality Mulder wasn't used to associate with Krycek fell on his face
like a shadow, before he turned away and stepped to the window. With his back
to Mulder he said: " The world is dying, Mulder. You tried to prevent it,
God knows, I tried, too. We failed. It's just a question of time until THEY
come." Krycek fell silent.

"That's no answer to my question." Mulder remarked.

Krycek turned around to face him. In the dim moonlight he could hardly see
his features.

"I want you." Krycek said quietly.

Mulder felt his stomach cramp.

"And you want me, too." Krycek claimed. When Mulder snorted in disgust,
Krycek added. "In the evening when I told you about the invasion, when I
kissed you..."

"Don't remind me of that!" Mulder interrupted. //Please, don't//

Krycek's voice was low, merely more than a whisper, when he added: "You
didn't flinch, you didn't turn away your head. You didn't jump at me to beat
the crap out of me, and when I gave you my gun, you didn't shoot me or tried
to arrest me. You just stared at me."

Mulder had wondered about that, too. And of course found an explanation.
After all, he was a psychologist. But he had never been good at analyzing

"You surprised me." Mulder said. "I didn't expect that you , my enemy...
you stunned me out of action."

"Would you have been stunned out of action if Cancerman kissed you?" Krycek
asked tauntingly.

Against his will Mulder had to laugh. "I would have puked."

Krycek squatted down in front of the couch, inches away from Mulder's face.
"Did you puke after I left?"

"I sat there, brooding." Mulder replied. Brooding about the extricable
relations that are neither accidental nor somehow in our control.

They were both silent for a moment, then Krycek stated: "I am not going to
die before I slept with you."

After a heartbeat, Mulder replied: "Then you're going to live forever."

Krycek stared at him for a few seconds. With an increasing heartbeat Mulder
remembered that it was the same way Krycek had stared at him before he had
kissed him on the cheek. So it didn't come as a surprise when Krycek leaned
forward to kiss him again. Nevertheless he didn't flinch back when Krycek's
lips gently brushed his own. And when Krycek's tongue found ist way into his
mouth for a careful exploration Mulder was tempted to give in and just let
it happen. But no! Krycek was his enemy. He had betrayed his trust again and
again in the last six years, he had helped to abduct Scully - Scully, his
only true friend, the only person he could rely on -, he'd murdered his
father, killed Scully's sister, hurt about everyone he knew. He couldn't,
wouldn't give in into his dark charms.

Mulder pushed Krycek away, slapping his pretty face hard with his left.
"Didn't you already hurt me enough?" He shouted. Krycek tumbled back, holding
his bleeding nose. "Do you have to destroy everything? My father, my partner,
me..." Krycek looked at him in concern.Yes, the young man was a hell of an
actor, but this time Mulder wouldn't fall for him. How could he sleep with
him when he had never even kissed Scully, not even in that hallway years ago?
Whatever Krycek wanted he had to take it forcibly or leave without it, but
Mulder wouldn't voluntarily sleep with him."Go on, Krycek!" Mulder sneered
between clenched teeth. "Take me, break me, if you have to add one more crime
to your list! But you won't get me without getting some bruises!"

Shit! When Krycek had come here, he had been determined to sleep with Mulder
before their time ran out, if neccessary even without Mulder's consent. He
hadn't gone through all this shit to die alone in the dirt, without ever
getting a piece of his hearts desire. And anyway he hardly could hurt Mulder
any more than he already had, or could he? Yes, he could. And that was the
last thing he wanted.

Krycek started to chuckle. His life was a joke. All the time he had done
everything to survive just to die during the Apocalypse. At the FBI he didn't
tell Mulder that the Consortium was going to abduct Scully out of fear of
what Cancerman would do to him if he didn't follow his orders. He had tried
to convince himself that he had shot Mulder's father because he'd been angry
when he found out about the years of abuse, but the truth was, he had been
afraid that Cancerman would kill him if he didn't do as he was told. His
fear was not unfounded; that Cigarette Smoking Bastard tried to kill him a
short time later because he knew too much.

Selling government secrets to survive. Mulder despised him for that.

Dmitri - if Mulder knew about Dmitri, he would hate him even more. Not
wanting to kill the boy but in need to make sure he didn't tell anyone what
he had seen, he had infected him with the black cancer and sewed shut his
body openings, which was probably worse than killing him. He died anyway. A
new pact with the Consortium, at least this time not with Cancerman.

One way or the other, whatever he had done to survive, took him further
away from the only one he had ever loved, farer away from the chance to be
happy, at least for once in a lifetime. And now there was no hope to
survive the next month.

Krycek glanced one more time at Mulder, taking in every detail of the man he
loved, before he fished the handcuff-keys out of his pocket. He wouldn't
disturb Mulder anymore.

Mulder speechlessly watched Krycek as he broke out into laughter. First an
almost silent chuckle, growing louder and louder, then a barking laughter,
and all of it without the slightest trace of humor. He seemed to be
completely out of his mind. Eventually Krycek fell silent, staring intensely
at Mulder. Mulder looked defiantly back into huge dark eyes, framed by long
thick lashes. You could lose yourself in those eyes.

Mulder was slightly disappointed when Krycek broke the eye-contact, fished
something out of his pockets and threw it to Mulder. Keys. For the handcuffs.

"Twas nice to see you one more time." Krycek said flatly. "Bye then. Have a
nice death."

With those words he turned to the door. Mulder watched his graceful movements.
Lean, yet muscular, just like a cat. It was probably the last time he had
seen him.

He would never again look into his eyes, never again press his body against
a wall... no, he couldn't let him go like that!

Mulder tried to stand up, but realized that he was still chained to the couch.
Cursing out loudly, he hastily opened the lock and jumped up, following
Krycek. He reached the younger man when he was already in the corridor of
the flat, about to open the door and vanish in the dark of night.

Mulder grasped Krycek's slim waist and pulled him back, back to him. Krycek
gasped as Mulder pressed his whole body against Krycek's, his chest against
Krycek's back, his arms folded around Krycek's middle, his groin rubbing
against Krycek's butts.

"You won't go anywhere!" Mulder said, nuzzling his neck, enjoying the scent
that was unmistakeably Krycek's. And his body was warm and firm and tight
and this was the last chance they had...

Krycek was more than surprised at Mulder's sudden change of mind but he
certainly wouldn't complain. So he held still and let Mulder take control.
Krycek moaned in sheer pleasure as Mulder's hands moved greedily along his
ribcage, then the FBI-agent flipped him around and pushed him against the
wall, pressing his body against Krycek, kissing him with all the passion and
desperation he had bottled up in the last few years. Krycek virtually melted
into the kiss. He couldn't believe this happened, but if he was halluzinating
it was the best delusion he could imagine. Mulder broke the kiss but took
Alex's face into his hands and frantically started to kiss, nibble and lick
inch for inch of Krycek's face. He slightly bit into the top of his nose,
moved his lips along his cheeks, nipped his jaw, kissed his eyelids, each
inch of his forehead, tongued his ears... Krycek moaned helplessly, his
knees felt like butter and his groin was a blazing inferno sending flames
through his whole body.

Mulder had always loved Krycek's face. And his long legs, and his ass, and
his slim waist, and ... anything. Mulder moved back, just for inches, to
look at Krycek's face. He was panting, just as he himself. So beautiful.

Krycek winced as Mulder grabbed his leather jacket and shoved it down his
shoulders, and soon he also saw the reason why. The prothesis. God, what had
they done to him?

Mulder must have looked disturbed, because Krycek huskily said: "If this is
a problem for you, I go and you can forget what we almost did."

//No, don't leave me!//

"I don't care about the arm." Mulder answered. Hastily he corrected: "No, I
do care. But it doesn't matter; I want you the same."

Krycek nodded his head in understanding and they went on. Krycek's tee-shirt
ended up on the floor, followed by his prothesis, joined by Mulder's jacket
and shirt.

Mulder's hands explored with enthusiasm Krycek's muscular chest while he
kissed his long throat. Slowly, almost shyly Krycek's hand moved along
Mulder's back, down his spine, to his still dressed ass, squeezing it
slightly. Mulder gasped, rubbing their groins together.

"Krycek" he said, lying his cheek onto Krycek's "Do you have some lube with

"Of course," Krycek purred. "In the back-pocket of of my jeans."

Glad to hear that, Mulder flipped him around and fished the tube out of his
pocket. Grasping around his hip he opened Krycek's jeans and tore them down
until they were hanging at his knees. After making Alex moan by squeezing
the perfect half-rounds he put a blob of lube onto his fingers and put them
in to prepare him hastily, yearning to free his aching cock and impale
Krycek's divine ass onto it.

Krycek was shivering with anticipation. Mulder's fingers definitively weren't
enough, he wanted more. Greedily, impatiently he moved his hips against the
intruding fingers until they vanished and Mulder's erect cock rubbed against
Alex's ass, then, slowly, entered him.

Krycek moaned; he felt so filled, so complete, so... . Then Mulder began to
move. Relatively slowly at first, but soon he speeded up, desperately longing
for him for a long long time, never before admitting his feelings to himself.

Mulder moaned, Krycek cried, his hand grasped the wardrobe for hold while he
unawarely moved his hips in unison with Mulder. They couldn't keep the speed
for long and soon Mulder came with a loud scream.

Sweating Mulder tumbled back and leaned against the opposite wall. Krycek
still clenched his fist around the wardrobe for hold, glittering with sweat.
So perfect.

Panting, Krycek turned around and glanced at Mulder. His lover was leaning
against the wall, his trousers open, the upper part of his slender body
uncovered, his eyes clouded with lust. God, he was so beautiful.

Krycek wanted to step to Mulder to touch him, to feel him, but he had
forgotten that his jeans were still hanging at his knees. He tumbled and
fell, half caught by Mulder, half pulling him down, landing hard on the

"I told you you won't get me without some bruises." Mulder teased playfully.
Krycek spared an answer and climbed onto Mulder. Straddling his waist, he
bent down and kissed his long throat, something he had wanted to do since....
seemingly since the beginning of the world.

Krycek worked his way down over Mulder's chest, cheered by the salty taste
of his skin, reaching his nipples and sucked one of them in, pleased to hear
Mulder's tiny moans. He crawled further down, tongueing Mulder's wonderful
flat abdomen and reached his groin, burying his face in Mulder's pubic hairs,
licking along the shaft. Mulder was already erect again, and so was he. He
had been stone-hard since Mulder had enfolded his waist and pulled him back
into the apartment. Krycek crawled back upwards and kissed Mulder wildly,
before he whispered: "I want you, Mulder! May I..."

Mulder's eyes were dazed as he answered: "Whatever you want, Alex."

Krycek reached for the tube of lube lying somewhere on the floor, where
Mulder had let it drop. He shoved Mulder's pants completely down, waited
until he wantonly spread his legs, and applied two or three blobs of lube,
he didn't count them. As his lover started to whimper in impatience, he
eventually entered the hot, tight, slick channel.

Krycek felt somehow sheltered by the warmth surrounding him and at the same
time moved by the trust Mulder set in him to open himself up for him that
way. Then he started to thrust in and out in a passionate, deep pace,
grasping Mulder's cock and stroking it in the same rhythm.

Mulder pulled his lover down for a deep kiss and decided to keep him there
while their hips were moving in unison faster and faster. Krycek came first,
with one last primitive thrust. The feeling of his sperms disperging into
him brought Mulder over the edge and he too ejaculated into Krycek's fist.

For a few minutes they both lay pantingly on the floor in the narrow corridor,
between shoes and heaps of paper. The haze of lust that had clouded Mulder's
thoughts for the last few minutes of exploding passion cleared, and he
remembered all the reasons why he should hate the man beside him; but
somehow they didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was that they were
finally together now. And that they didn't know how much time they had left.

He gazed at Krycek, saying: "I think my bedroom will be more comfortable."

Krycek gave a short laughter: "You do have a bedroom?"

"Yes, I just don't sleep in it." With a smirk Mulder added: "But sleeping is
not what I have in mind."

Krycek smiled, shaking his head: "Do you never get enough?"

"Not where you are concerned." Mulder answered, seeing with pleasure the
unbelieving, but happy look on Krycek's face.

What followed was not the same wild, desperate detonation of bottled up
emotion that had overwhelmed them in the corridor, but a gentle, tender
exploration of their bodies; stroking, caressing, learning, memorizing, not
knowing but sensing that this was their last night.

Somewhen, entwined with Alex, slowly moving his hand down his back while
kissing softly his left shoulder, sad about the loss of his arm, Mulder
started to cry. To cry that the world did have to end when they finally had
found each other, crying for the hard times Alex had gone through, weeping
for all he had endured, weeping for Scully, his one and only friend, for
Skinner, for his mother, for never finding out what happened to Samantha,
crying for the dead, for his father, Mellissa, Pendrell, Deep Throat, X,
weeping for the end of this cruel world. Why had they gone through all this
pain when there was nothing they could do to safe the earth?

Krycek held his weeping lover in his arm, wishing he'd still have his left
arm to close them both around Mulder. He said nothing, because he didn't
know what to say, how to comfort Mulder. His shoulder was wetted by Mulder's
tears, a lump of uncried tears in his own throat, yearning to break free. But
he had forgotten how to cry long ago.

Not even back in the silo had he cried; he had shouted, screamed, laughed in
desperation, but he really hadn't been able to cry, to let it all out. He
just kept any feeling hidden deep inside, except the ones that had been
played. Maybe he didn't want to admit that he could be hurt, not even to
himself. So he had built up a protective wall around himself, telling himself
that people could only hurt his body, but never his soul. He was wrong, he
could be hurt. Mulder had shaken his protective wall long ago; but never torn
it down.

"Oh shit, Alex!" Mulder sobbed wih teardrowned voice. "Why couldn't ... why
couldn't I realize earlier how much I love you?"

His protective wall shattered and crumbled.

He loved Mulder and Mulder... Mulder loved him, too, God only knew why!
Hours, days, at best one more month... when they were lucky.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter that they had no more time to
extend their relationship, that all that mattered was that they were together
now, that lots of people never found their love, but it didn't work. The
thruth was, he wanted to stay with Mulder, to watch him grow old. But they
would die.

Krycek felt a burning in his eyes and the lump in his throat grew.It eased
when tears poured out of the corners of his eyes, flew down his cheeks, cool
and wet. He tasted one of them on his tongue, surprised that they were salty.
Then it was Mulder who held Krycek while he cried, shaken by heavy thrusts
that felt surprisingly like laughter, all his pain washed out by his tears.

Soothing Krycek's grief, Mulder felt better, too. He had never thought, he
and Alex would ever find solace in each other, that they would ever stop
hurting each other. At least, they found it out before they died.

"Better now?" Mulder asked when Krycek hesitatingly solved himself out of
Mulder's arms.

"Yes" Krycek answered somewhat surprised. "I...feel better now."

Mulder smiled knowingly. For a brief moment he wondered if, when they had
enough time, he could change Alex, lead him back to the right path. But he
didn't really want him any different.

Mulder pulled the blanket over them both and they fell asleep, curled up in
spoon position.

The alien shapeshifter formed a tentakel to push something similar to a
button on something similar to an instrument panel. Then it transcended into
something similar to a chair and watched something similar to a monitor.

Everything was prepared, the seed was planted. In fifteen time units the
black beasts would be activated, and in hundred more time units they would
have erased the human species. All they would have to do then was to put
away the rubbish.

Some of them, the humans called them bounties, had wanted only to enslave
the humans, but that had been a stupid idea. The humans were no use... the
black beasts they'd found on planet 473, yes, they were useful as a kind of
pest controller who freed the new planets they were about to colonize from
all disturbing creatures, like the humans now. Easily to transport, for in
their larva state they were just black oil, easily to plant and extremely
effective in erasing carbon based species like humans. Since they knew how,
the black beast would also be easily to wipe out as soon as they weren't
needed anymore.

Earth had been easy to conquer. Some old humans had even been stupid enough
to help them to plant the seed. But what could be expected from a species as
primitive as the humans?

The alien shifted its mass and waited.