Alpha Male Crap
Author: Lycanthrophile (
Fandom: The X-Files
Originally Posted 2002
Spoilers: Season 7
Disclaimer: I asked Santa for them for Chirstmas, but I got a black, lacy thigh-hi full of coal instead. I guess that means that Mulder and Krycek still belong to TenThirteen Productions and the Fox Network.
Rating: NC17 for male/male sex
Summary: Mulder catches up with an old enemy and gets some answers.
Word Count: 4,111
Notes: This story was originally published in Over eXposure by IIBNF Press.
Archive: Please inform me.

Mulder opened the door to the hotel room, keeping one hand on the collar of his prisoner. A cursory glance around the room assured Mulder that no one was waiting for him. "Get in there," he snarled, shoving the handcuffed man in ahead of him. Normally, he would have turned over any suspect to the local FBI field office instead of keeping him in personal custody. But this prisoner was no ordinary suspect, so unusual actions were to be expected.

Alex Krycek stumbled ahead a few steps before regaining his balance. He sat down on the only bed the room had. "Shit," Mulder swore. He had asked for a room with two double bed, not a single queen. Mulder shoved Krycek back towards the top of the bed. Ignoring the cold plastic of Krycek's prosthetic wrist, as well as the trickle of blood from younger man's nose, Mulder cuffed him to the headboard, threading the chain between the rail at the top and the spindles. Mulder placed the key to the handcuffs on the bedside table, well out of Krycek's reach. Krycek half-sat, half-reclined in sullen silence as Mulder phoned the front desk.

"I asked for a room with two beds.... Isn't there anything else available...?" Mulder hung up the phone in disgust.

Krycek settled on the bed, using one leg to push himself up into a fully sitting position. "Afraid you'll give in to your desire to ravage me, eh Mulder?"

Mulder shot him a disdainful look. "Don't flatter yourself, Krycek."

"So what are you going to do with me?" Krycek taunted, echoing Mulder's thoughts. "You turn me into the authorities, even if I wanted to talk, I'd be dead before I could, no matter how many G-men are assigned to protect me."

Mulder said nothing, but looked around the room again. The only other furniture was a cheap set of drawers, a mirror bolted to the wall, and a table with two rickety looking chairs. There was no way he would spend the night sleeping in either one of them. With a small sigh, he removed his jacket and folded it neatly over the rough upholstery. Soon the tie joined it, as well as the dress shirt, shoes and socks. The undershirt and the slacks stayed on.

He could feel Krycek glaring daggers at him, but he continued to ignore his prisoner. "So what the hell are you going to do with me? You going to keep me in the dark?" the triple agent asked as Mulder turned down the covers on his side of the bed.

Mulder stared at him blandly. Even when Krycek winced, as if remembering how Mulder had punched him the last time he asked that question, Mulder kept his face expressionless. Mulder watched the toned muscles tense as he raised a hand. "Yes," he said, flipping off the light switch. Mulder settled onto his right side, his back to Krycek. He couldn't help but grin when Krycek cursed under his breath, realizing that Mulder intended for him to be cuffed to the headboard the whole night without even the minimal warmth of a top sheet. Eventually Krycek quieted down, and Mulder allowed his eyes to shut.

He almost didn't feel the first shiver. Thinking it was from the chill in the room, Mulder ignored it, telling himself that Krycek deserved the discomfort. The second and third tremors were accompanied by whimpering noises. Mulder cracked open one eye as he looked over his left shoulder. The triple agent was still asleep sitting upright. Krycek's eyes were closed and his mouth was open. He was breathing in short, harsh gasps when he wasn't making distressed sounds. Krycek squirmed again, pulling his prosthesis loose from his shoulder. A fine sheen of sweat covered the younger man. Ruthlessly quashing his twinges of sympathy, Mulder turned on the light, reached out, and shook Krycek's shoulder. "Wake up, Krycek." Krycek gave a sharp yelp and opened his eyes. He stared straight ahead, breathing heavily. "You have nightmares?"

"What do you care?" was the snarled response.

Mulder responded by rolling onto his back. "Only because I want a good night's sleep, Krycek. Are you going to have those for the rest of the night?" If they were anything like the nightmares he had, they would both be in for a sleepless night. He wasn't thrilled when Krycek nodded fractionally, face set in stone. "How do we stop you from having them?"

"We don't." Krycek continued to stare straight ahead.

Mulder studied him for a moment, considering the fact that Krycek hadn't made a single smart-ass comment since Mulder woke him up. Unless he was off the mark, Krycek was frightened by his nightmare. "What is it? Your arm getting cut off? Being used by the oilien? Waking up in the missile silo?"

"Just turn off the damn light." Krycek gritted through his teeth. The younger man turned away, refusing to look at him.

Mulder sat up. "Or maybe it's Augustus Cole? Duane Barry? Melissa Scully? Maybe even my father? You know, the people you murdered in cold blood."

Krycek growled.

"Of course, killing isn't the worst thing you've done," Mulder said in an almost conversational tone. "Those nanomachines you infected Skinner with really did a number on him."

Krycek's head snapped around. "Shut the fuck up!"

Bingo, Mulder thought. "Why Krycek, I had no idea your feelings for Skinner went so deep. Were you so jealous of the fact that Scully kissed him that you tried to kill him? Or did you screw up and let him live by accident?"

Krycek squirmed back against the wall, partly to ease the discomfort in his right arm. "Mulder, you have no idea what the real objective was."

Mulder sat up, not caring enough to try to mask his curiosity. "Then enlighten me, Krycek."

"The nanomachines weren't meant for Skinner. They were meant for you."


Krycek's voice held only clinical detachment. "Conventional means of curtailing your activities were not producing the desired results. You were supposed to be infected once the technology had proven reliable in lab rats, but I pushed for a human test subject before your infestation."

Mulder swallowed. Skinner had almost died a grisly death, and if what Krycek had implied was true, it could easily be his fate. "So why haven't I been 'infested,' Krycek?"

"Because I skewed the data. I backed off the controls just after they reached fatal levels, then changed the program to a repair mode, and said that the nanomachines had failed to kill Skinner."

"So what does this have to do with your nightmare?"

"In my dreams, it's not Skinner on the hospital bed flat-lining. It's you."

"And I'm sure it just broke your black heart. Was it a nightmare because you didn't push the button?"

"You still don't get it!” Krycek sounded exasperated and frustrated and Mulder couldn’t figure out why. “I did it to protect you! I've done nothing but protect you since the day I met you."

"Yeah, only in your mind."

"I shot Augustus Cole when I thought he was about to shoot you. I kept you off Skyland Mountain. If you had interrupted Duane Barry, he would have killed you."

"So you let Scully be abducted."

Krycek continued his litany, ignoring Mulder's accusation. "The Smoking Man would have killed you if Bill Mulder told you anything."

"Sure, Krycek. You really did me a big favor when you killed my father."

"First of all, we both know I didn't kill your father, although I hope to one of these days. Second, there was no way to get you out of there. You were in danger, and you weren't in any state of mind to listen to me."

"Thanks to the drugs you were putting in my water," Mulder retorted. "And what about Scully's sister?"

"I did not shoot Melissa Scully. Cardinal was sloppy, and should have waited to be certain it was the right mark. And before you accuse me, it wasn't my idea to kill Scullly either."

"Of course not. That wouldn't have been 'protecting' me."

"You don't know how many times I put my ass on the line for you, Mulder. When the oilien took control of me in Hong Kong, it wanted to kill you once we reached the U.S. It didn't need you, but I managed to convince it to let you live."

"Yeah Krycek, and then you exposed it to me in Tunguska."

"None of that was my doing! The camp commandant ordered the test before I spoke with him. I was about to get us out of there when you attacked me and everything went wrong."

The two men fell into a sullen silence. Eventually Mulder shut off the light and settled back down onto the mattress. He did not fall asleep. Staring into the darkness he considered Krycek's statements. Each did have a ring of truth about them, but could also provide convenient cover. The answers came too easily, almost as if they had been rehearsed.

There's no way to know for sure, Mulder mused. There was also one incident Krycek hadn't mentioned, an omission that Mulder found intriguing. "Krycek?"


Mulder knew he would never have a chance to ask this question again. "What about that night in my apartment?"

"You lost your way. I was setting you back on course," Krycek answered in an offhand way.

Mulder shook his head once. "That's not what I'm talking about."

"Oh." Krycek was silent a moment. He did not look at Mulder. "That was an indulgence."

"You break into my apartment, ambush me, hold a gun to my head, kiss me, and you call it an indulgence?"

"My orders were to anonymously deliver you the information about Wiekamp Air Force Base. You weren't supposed to know who provided it."

"So you disobeyed orders. Nothing out of the ordinary for you. Why'd you do it?" Krycek's response was mumbled. "I didn't hear you, Krycek."

"I wanted to see you."

"And you kissed me because…"

Krycek's words were carefully enunciated. "I wanted to since I first met you."

"So you weren't feigning interest in me." There had been a few surreptitious gropes, a few seemingly accidental fondlings that could have either been inadvertent or clumsy attempts at seduction. Flattered, attracted, and hopeful, Mulder had held back from either encouraging or discouraging Krycek until he could be certain his new partner was trustworthy.

"No. Once my cover was blown, I knew I didn't have a chance with you. I didn't realize until that night that you felt the same way about me."

"Felt the same way about you?" Mulder said in puzzlement? Maybe once, but he now hated the ratbastard for betraying him.

Didn’t he?

"Mulder, I gave you my gun and turned my back to you! I gave you the perfect opportunity to shoot me and all you did was sit there. Every other time you've caught up with me, you've roughed me up, but not permanently hurt me. It took me a while to figure out that it was foreplay."

Mulder raised his eyebrows. "So you think I equate violence with foreplay." Having Krycek bound and at his mercy presented an interesting scenario in Mulder's mind.

"Violence, hostility, all that alpha male crap. Yeah, I think you get off on it."

Mulder placed his hand on Krycek's knee, fingers splayed wide. "Maybe I do, Krycek." The fingers slowly crept up the inside of Krycek's thigh. "But then you keep coming back for more. So what does that say about you?"

Krycek practically purred under Mulder's touch. "You're not going to hit me first?" He spread his legs wider and tilted his head back, exposing the white column of his neck. Mulder grinned and slipped between his legs without touching Krycek's body. Leaning forward, Mulder fastened his lips on Krycek's Adam's apple. Krycek gasped and squirmed, desperate for more of Mulder's touch.

Mulder slowly worked his way up Krycek's throat, leaving a trail of kisses, licks, and bites. He followed Krycek's jaw up to the delicate ear. Mulder flicked his tongue against the lobe. Krycek arched up beneath him, seeking more body contact.

Mulder sat back on his haunches. "Alex, you seem to be overdressed."

He didn't miss Krycek's indrawn breath when Mulder used his first name. "Get these cuffs off of me and I'll do something about it," Krycek growled, jerking against the restraints.

"Just because I want you doesn't mean I trust you." The harshness of Mulder's words snapped Krycek's eyes wide open. Mulder gave him a grim smile before lowering his head to Krycek's taut neck. Slowly his tongue snaked out from behind pouty lips to lap at the sweat slicked skin.

Krycek moaned and tugged against the cuffs. He looked like an angel. A fallen angel, Mulder reminded himself as his tongue licked across most of Krycek's neck. The trick would be how to remove the sweat drenched T-shirt without freeing Krycek... Mulder slid back up to Krycek's ear. "Alex, where's your knife?"

"You frisked me, ahh," Krycek hissed as Mulder bit down on the lobe, "and took all my guns, remember?"

Mulder blew gently into Krycek's ear, causing the assassin to squirm. "I said knife, Krycek. Where is it?"

"Left jacket pocket. Oh god, don't stop," Krycek moaned as Mulder resumed tracing his ear with a very wet tongue.

Mulder slid his hand across the hips of Krycek's jeans, barely brushing the pronounced bulge. He was smugly pleased when Krycek bucked violently at that near caress. Still concentrating on Krycek's ear, he felt for the pocket and extracted the switchblade. After raising it into Krycek's field of vision, Mulder snicked the blade open and placed the flat edge against Krycek's chest. Krycek shuddered as Mulder drew the weapon down his torso and teased it under the hem of his T-shirt.

The knife cut cleanly through the fabric - one slit the center of the torso, and one along each sleeve. A hint of panic entered Krycek's eyes and breathing when Mulder worked on his left arm. Mulder set the knife aside and began to spread the fabric apart. Krycek had closed his eyes as Mulder's long fingers began exploring his chest. Mulder could barely suppress a quiver at the sight of Krycek running his tongue over his lips. He pulled back and stripped off his shirt, his eyes never leaving Krycek's mouth.

Their kiss started gentle with Mulder merely brushing against the corner of Krycek's mouth. Enraptured with the feel of Krycek's smooth skin, Mulder parted his lips and licked at Krycek. Krycek turned his head towards Mulder and opened his mouth, silently begging. Mulder, however, responded by licking and nibbling all around his lips. Krycek began twisting his head, nuzzling Mulder's face and trying to work his lips onto Mulder's. Eventually Mulder gave into Krycek's insistence and his own desire.

Krycek's mouth was a furnace. Mulder thought he would be seared, if not consumed, by its moist heat. As their tongues dueled for dominance, Mulder mentally smiled. Krycek may have been restrained, but he was going to exert what control over the situation he could. He would make Krycek fight for every inch of ground he gained. Mulder let Krycek plunder his mouth before mounting his own assault by pinching Krycek's nipples.

Krycek arched up and howled more in surprise than in pain. He settled back onto the bed when Mulder started to soothe Krycek's nipples. Krycek gave soft, breathy sighs with each swipe of Mulder's tongue. Mulder concentrated on the salt taste of Krycek's skin, alternately kissing, sucking, and licking the rosy nipple. Krycek continued to squirm under Mulder's talented mouth. He wrapped a denim-clad leg over Mulder's, reminding the FBI agent that both he and Krycek were still overdressed. Pushing Krycek's leg aside, Mulder sat back on his haunches. The crotch of Krycek's jeans looked obscenely tight, and Mulder's boxers felt the same way. Mulder skimmed out of his shorts. He gave Krycek a shit-eating grin as he lightly stroked his cock, relishing Krycek's growls.

Mulder toyed with the buckle of Krycek's belt before removing it, admiring the slim waist while considering his next move. He reached for the knife again. Tapping the flat of the blade against his palm, he debated slicing along the inside seams of Krycek's jeans, but decided against it for fear he'd cut something important. Instead, he carefully slit up the legs of the jeans to the waistband. With a quick snap of his wrists, Mulder jerked away the cut denim, baring Krycek's legs. Mulder grinned an evil grin when he saw the damp spot on Krycek's cotton briefs.

Krycek dug in with his heels and lifted his groin, offering. Mulder grabbed the left leg and lifted it, causing Krycek's right one to slide down. Mulder shifted the foot onto his lap, pulling the boot and sock off. Elegant fingers teased up the bare arch. Mulder smiled as Krycek shrieked and tried to pull his foot out of Mulder's grip. Taking a firm hold with one hand, Mulder stroked around Krycek's ankle before tracing up his calf. Krycek continued to twist as Mulder followed his fingers with his tongue. Mulder's fingers snaked up Krycek's thigh, combing against the downy hair that grew thicker the further up he went. He pulled down the cotton briefs, careful not to snag the waistband on Krycek's cock. Mulder's eyes locked on the drooling head, his mouth watering in anticipation.

Under his scrutiny, a drop of pearly precum beaded at the head of Krycek's cock. With cat-like precision, Mulder licked away the moisture, relishing the ocean salt addictive taste of Krycek. Mulder looked up to see Krycek toss his head backwards, thumping it against the headboard. Deciding to put him out of his misery, Mulder began licking the purple head, coaxing more fluid from it. Mulder then swallowed Krycek whole. He felt his cock throb when Krycek began a low, constant keening noise, broadcasting his need. Mulder ignored it, intent on savoring the flesh he had lusted for. He concentrated on the glans, making butterfly flicks against it with his tongue before sucking hard. Ignoring Krycek's warnings he was about to cum, he delicately ran his teeth along the throbbing vein on the underside. Krycek let out a noise between a moan and a scream. Mulder barely had time to taste Krycek's cum before it shot down his throat.

Only when Krycek's cock began to soften did Mulder look up. Krycek's eyes were dilated and slightly crossed and his expression radiated pure bliss. He watched Krycek close his eyes and smile as he began to crawl up Krycek's body. Mulder answered with his own smile before kissing hungrily Krycek's lips. Krycek returned the kiss languidly, basking in the afterglow.

Mulder sat up and reached for the handcuff keys and leaned forward to unlock the cuff restraining Krycek's artificial arm. His fingers then strayed to the straps holding the prosthesis. When Krycek nodded his approval, Mulder gently unbuckled the straps and removed it. Mulder stopped for a moment considering the shackled right arm. Krycek grinned widely as Mulder then unlocked it.

Mulder answered with a grin of his own. He then flipped Krycek over and rechained his right arm low the headboard in one fluid movement. He stroked down Krycek's back, a hand coming to rest on a round buttock. "Just because I want you doesn't mean I trust you," Mulder repeated in a silky whisper as the hand tightened possessively. He then smacked the asscheek in emphasis.

Mulder glanced around for something to use as a lubricant. His eyes landed on the complimentary bottle of hand lotion sitting besides the plastic wrapped drinking cups. It would make his dick smell like lavender, but at this point he was beyond caring. Mulder bounded off the bed, and was back with the lotion almost before the bed settled. Krycek twisted around, trying to figure out what Mulder was doing.

Mulder pulled Krycek's hips up and pushed a pillow under him. He opened the lotion, grimacing slightly at the floral scent, and shook some onto his fingers. Mulder placed his index finger at Krycek's anus and pressed. Krycek's muscles tensed, as if he was not expecting penetration, and then relaxed. There was no resistance when Mulder added a second finger and began to spread them. Mulder began scissoring his fingers, and Krycek began moaning and pushing back against him. Once he felt Krycek had been prepared enough, Mulder pulled his fingers out.

His cock felt ready to explode. Mulder lightly coated it with the lotion, afraid he'd shoot prematurely if he touched himself too much. He placed himself at Krycek's entrance, and was gratified when the assassin lifted his hips. Mulder pushed hard, grimly smiling at Krycek's grunt.

The heat surrounding his cock was incredible. Mulder had to hold still for a moment, afraid of cumming too soon. But when Krycek pushed back against him, Mulder gave up on any semblance of self-control. He began to thrust ruthlessly, not caring if he tore Krycek while seeking his own satisfaction. He began mentally chanting a litany, each word timing with each stroke. ‘This is for killing Scully's sister. This is for helping abduct Scully. This is for making Skinner your slave.’ His hand worked under Krycek's body to find his cock hard again. ‘This is for putting me through hell in Tunguska. This is for killing my father.’ Krycek's ass began to spasm, and Mulder felt the tingling build at the base of his spine. ‘This is for making me love you.' His world exploded into white hot light. Mulder shot his seed deep into the man he desperately hated and loved and detested and wanted.

Mulder collapsed on top of Krycek, who was breathing heavily. He worked the soiled pillow out from beneath their bodies and flung it across the room. He lowered his head , placing his ear against Krycek's shoulder. Lulled by the steady heartbeat, he was almost asleep when Krycek spoke. "Mulder, the cuffs. Please?"

Mulder didn't open his eyes. "If I uncuff you, you will leave while I'm asleep."

"I won't leave you, Mulder." For some reason, Mulder felt that even if Krycek had lied to him about everything else this evening, he wasn't lying about this promise. But it was still with some misgivings that he reached for the key and unlocked the handcuff.

Krycek stretched his arm, and Mulder more felt than heard the sigh of relief. Telling himself that he wasn't being apologetic, but not believing it, Mulder gently stroked along the arm, helping restore circulation. Krycek wiggled and rolled until Mulder was spooned into his back. Mulder found it harder to keep his eyes open. The last thing he felt was Krycek rhythmically stroking his thumb against the inside of his hand.

There were no more nightmares, so he slept soundly. When he woke up, he knew he was alone in the bed even before he opened his eyes. He scanned the room. Fuck, he thought bitterly. What the hell were you expecting? Him to make you breakfast? Profess undying love? Berating himself for being stupid, he got out of the bed and went to the bathroom.

After taking a piss, he came back into the main room to take stock. The handcuffs were placed neatly on the end table, The knife-cut clothes were still discarded on the floor. And the prosthetic arm had been laid on the dresser.

Alex Krycek sat down on the bed and debated his next move. Mulder's probably far away from here by now, trying to deny what happened last night. If he were going to turn me in, this place would be crawling law enforcement.

Krycek then noticed that Mulder had left him a parting gift of sorts - the change of clothing Mulder always carried in his car for emergencies. He replaced his artificial arm and dressed as quickly as he could. Almost as an afterthought, he picked up the bottle of hand lotion and placed it in his jacket pocket. Not allowing himself to feel the pain at waking up alone any longer, he stepped out into the morning light to face the day and the curveball Mulder had thrown at him. You wanted him. Now you've had him. Are you going to be able to leave him alone? Or will you seek him out like a junkie seeks his next fix?

He had no way of knowing that twenty five miles down the road, Mulder was having the same thoughts.

The End