Feel-Good Burn
Author: Satina
Website: http://themkshrine.angelfire.com
Pairing: M/K
Rating: NC-17
Date of first posting: 10/31/03
Spoilers: This is Skippy-Ratdom, in the first days of their partnership.
Disclaimer: These characters were created by Chris Carter and Fox Television.
Summary: Mulder and Krycek learn a little something about each other with the help of Hansen.
Thank you: Thanks to Hansen and the Doobie Brothers, both featured prominently on my own, home-burned feel-good CD.
Feedback: That kind of love energy can’t be bought. Every word is a treasure. Send it here.
Notes: This is for my sweet Shan, who has lit up over and over, beautiful eyes sparkling, every time I would mention finally writing this sweet little idea. It’s all yours, malysh.
“Ready?”
Mulder scooped up the small bunch of papers and stuffed them into the folder, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.
“Yup,” answered his new partner, downing the last few cold drops of his coffee, brushing nonexistent crumbs from his desk, then grabbing his own jacket and falling into step behind Mulder, who didn’t wait for him but strode quickly through the bullpen. Krycek hurried to catch up, not yet used to the way Mulder switched gears in the blink of an eye. “Um, didn’t Skinner deny your request for this case?”
“That’s why we’re taking your car,” grinned Mulder, punching the elevator down button, his finger hovering a split-second over the up arrow before pressing the correct one. Krycek knew Mulder missed his office.
Krycek blinked and returned his grin mirthlessly but good-naturedly. The elevator took them down into the parking garage and Mulder stepped out and quickly began striding out into the dark space. Krycek wondered where he was going, since Mulder didn’t know where Krycek had parked. Then Mulder stopped, evidently having the same thought, and let Krycek step ahead of him, taking the lead.
Krycek gave him a tight, shy smile as he stepped out in front of Mulder, for the first time walking ahead of rather than beside or even a step or two behind his senior partner. It felt very weird, really, to be leading rather than following the quicksilver agent. “This is me,” he said, gesturing to the midnight blue two-door with his keys. Small electronic noises signalled the disabling of the alarm and unlocking of the doors.
“Cute,” said Mulder, reaching forward and pulling open the door, then sliding his lanky frame into the black bucket seat. “Comfortable,” he said, adjusting the seat back. He began fidgeting with the air conditioning without asking as soon as Krycek got in and started up the engine.
“So, what are we doing, exactly?” asked Krycek, pulling out into the street. Mulder didn’t often tell him any more than was absolutely necessary, and sometimes not even that much. All he knew was that Mulder had a folder full of papers from an unknown source, and his 302 had been denied by Skinner. So they were on their own.
“We’re just going to talk to the guy,” said Mulder, adjusting his seat belt, still fidgeting slightly in the seat. Krycek could tell Mulder wasn’t used to riding in the passenger seat. He felt a slight grin touch his lips. It would be good for the arrogant ass, he thought. Always running around, not waiting for his partner or even caring if he came along or not. He acted like the whole world revolved around him and just didn’t know it yet.
“I really don’t need a reprimand on my record, Mulder,” said Krycek quietly, dutifully playing his dorky part.
Mulder looked at him sideways. “I’ll take care of ya,” he said, reaching over and giving Krycek the briefest of pats on the thigh.
Krycek couldn’t help but jump the tiniest bit, his muscles tensing at the sudden, unexpected touch. “Considering the fact that you get reamed by Skinner at least once a week, that’s not much comfort, Mulder,” he said, shifting in his own seat.
“Yeah, and look how I turned out,” said Mulder, looking out his window, checking street signs and then turning to the papers on his lap. “North on Garrity, get on the freeway, then about twenty miles up, take the Stocker exit.”
Krycek nodded, chewing his lip slightly. “And you’re not worried we’ll be missed?” he asked, taking the recommended turn and giving Mulder a quick look, brows arched.
Mulder snorted without mirth. “No one will miss me, Alex,” he said quietly, flipping through papers in his lap. “No one’s even used to having me around.” He pulled out one paper, scanning it. “And you’re so new, no one even knows you’re there.”
Krycek nodded. Including you, most of the time, he wanted to reply. But he just squinted into the sun and turned onto the freeway, accelerating.
Mulder settled back into his seat with a sigh, then not a minute later, leaned forward, reaching for the button on the stereo.
Krycek’s lips parted, eyes going wider for a second, but he stopped himself, just breathing back his request that Mulder not turn on the stereo. He gritted his teeth and smiled grimly.
Mulder turned the knob, and the CD that was already in the stereo began to play. Krycek stared straight ahead, resolutely, squinting dangerously, trying to look unconcerned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mulder blink and stare at the stereo console, then sit back slowly in his seat, pinching his fat bottom lip between thumb and forefinger, trying not to smile, Krycek knew. He watched as Mulder’s head began to bob in time with the upbeat music.
“Hansen,” Mulder commented without inflection. ‘MmmBop’ played on, filling the car with its cheerful melody and unintelligible lyrics.
Krycek breathed another controlled sigh and said nothing.
Mulder leaned forward and Krycek sighed again, relieved that Mulder was simply going to turn off his ‘feel-good’ burned CD without further comment. Then Mulder turned it up, now smiling openly and sitting back in his seat, head still bobbing. Shit shit shit. The Doobie Brothers were up next, and Krycek’s neck was burning, his face, he knew, bright pink with embarassment. As the song drew to a close, Mulder still saying nothing further, just cheerfully nodding his head to the beat of the finishing song, Krycek clenched his jaw, the tension making a knot in his gut. The music faded away, and in between the end of ‘MmmBop’ and the beginning of ‘Listen to the Music,’ Mulder leaned forward, turning the music down low, and spoke.
“You a fag, Alex?” he said, turning his head and arching his brows mildly.
Alex gasped, mouth falling open, blinking rapidly as he looked over at Mulder, thoroughly shocked.
Mulder just stared back at him calmly, brows still raised in inquiry. “Cause I’ve kinda wondered,” Mulder went on, now narrowing his eyes in mild speculation.
Krycek let out a frustrated breath, blinking and gritting his teeth. Bastard! Fucking asshole! The Doobie Brothers began singing, doing nothing to destroy Mulder’s case. Mulder’s smile widened.
“The way you’re always touching me unecessarily,” Mulder went on, his eyes slowly moving over Krycek’s body, making him breathe more deeply, more quickly. “Looking at me every time I look up, looking away quickly, turning pink and blinking those long lashes.”
Krycek blinked them now, not able to look at Mulder, who was now turned in his seat slightly, watching him. He knew he was indeed bright pink, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his out-of- control breathing.
“Well?” Mulder asked.
Now Krycek couldn’t help but turn his head and gape at him. He actually expected an answer to his arrogant, rude, tasteless question? Fuck him! Krycek blinked rapidly, firming his lips angrily and turning back to the road, squinting.
“I asked you a question, Agent Krycek,” said Mulder, clearly far too amused for Krycek’s comfort.
“I’m not a fag,” grated Krycek, squinting forward again. His teeth ground audibly.
Mulder sighed, nodding slowly, then turned to face forward himself again. “Just wondered,” he said.
Krycek ground his teeth further, breathing harsh. What was that tone about? It almost sounded…disappointed. The bastard was totally playing him! That was supposed to be Krycek’s job, not Mulder’s. He breathed deeply several times, willing his heart to stop pounding.
“I’ve experimented some,” said Mulder, looking out his window.
Krycek’s head jerked, turning to look at Mulder, who was still staring out his window calmly. He tore his gaze away, looking back to the road, swerving just slightly as he straightened out the car, which had veered into the neighboring lane a bit. Experimented? What did he mean, experimented? What the fuck kind of game was this? Krycek’s breathing was nowhere near to calming down now.
“I’ve been sucked off a couple of times by guys,” Mulder said, yawning. “Tried to suck somebody off one time. I’m sure I was awful, but we were both pretty excited, so he came anyway.”
Krycek swallowed hard, letting out his breath as carefully as possible, not letting himself gasp. He couldn’t help that his mind was now full of pictures of Mulder, younger, fresher, fat bottom lip wrapped around some guy’s…Krycek did gasp, shuddering.
“You ever had a guy suck you off, Alex?” Mulder asked, turning to look at him, just as calm as when he’d asked his first question.
Alex’s mouth dropped open, eyes blinking furiously, brows lowering as he tried to figure his way out of this trap. Surely Mulder was lying, just trying to get him to say something to embarrass himself, something Mulder could hold against him. He’d say yes, then Mulder would tell him he’d only been kidding, that he’d never had any experiences with men. Fucker! Goddamned asshole prick!
“Or give head? You ever sucked some guy’s cock, Krycek?” asked Mulder, putting a little extra enunciation on the ‘k’ sounds, to Krycek’s ears. “Come on, Alex. I told you my dirtly little secrets. You can trust me.” Mulder smiled, and as Alex flicked his glance sideways for just one breathless instant, Mulder looked anything but safe.
Krycek looked over again, meeting Mulder’s eyes for half a second, seeing the challenge in them, closing his eyes as he realized he was about to meet it. “Yes,” he said, his voice coming out raspy and ending on an exhale.
Mulder inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Yes what? To being sucked? Or sucking?” Was it Krycek’s imagination, or did Mulder’s voice sound a little breathy now?
Krycek sighed, kicking himself for his inability to tell reality from fantasy any more. He lifted his chin, steeling himself. “Both,” he said without looking over at Mulder. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the road, just daring Mulder to make some homophobic comment. He’d pull the car over and just punch that fucker in the mouth if he did that. He flexed his hands on the wheel.
Mulder’s inhale and exhale were louder this time, and Krycek watched as he shifted a little in his seat. Krycek couldn’t quite let himself check Mulder’s crotch for evidence, but out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn Mulder’s slacks were tenting. He knew his were, and he shifted a little, trying to displace the fabric a little to hide it. He only succeeded in rubbing his excited flesh against the fabric of his shorts and let out a quick breath. Goddamn it. Maybe he could find a rest stop and get this under control. He scanned the horizon.
“You any good?” Mulder’s voice was definitely lower this time, edged with breath, but still controlled.
Krycek nearly groaned. Mulder could still be playing him. Using that voice on purpose, to trap him into humiliating himself so that Mulder could then laugh at him and taunt him unmercifully for the rest of their partnership. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, then decided to play the game to the finish, letting it go wherever it was meant to go. He licked his lips, then looked sideways at Mulder, then turned to face him, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah,” he said, then turned back to the road, controlling his shuddering breathing. He listened to Mulder’s own deep, controlled breaths.
“Thought you might be,” said Mulder very quietly, turning to face forward. Krycek caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Mulder’s hand, resting on Mulder’s left thigh, twitched, his thumb stroking perilously close to the bulge that was indeed there.
Krycek’s breath caught a moment, then he gained control and spoke. “Really. What made you think that?” He didn’t look at Mulder, just watching the road.
Mulder’s reply was carried on a breath. “The way your tongue’s always stroking back and forth across your lower lip, mouth open, while I’m trying to talk to you,” he said. “You make it very hard to concentrate sometimes, Alex,” he continued. “Very hard.” Then that thumb moved up a half-inch, just barely brushing against the ridge growing larger under Mulder’s pants, and Mulder let out a breath, swallowing.
Alex didn’t know what to say, finding himself licking his lips unconsciously, imagining Mulder watching his lips, his mouth. Imagining Mulder watching him take Mulder’s cock between them, tongue stroking…he swallowed back the drool, his cock painfully hard, brushing against his shorts as he shifted uncontrollably in the seat.
“Did they send you in to seduce me, Alex?” said Mulder in a low voice, thumb now moving slowly back and forth against the bulge in his pants.
Alex gasped, practically feeling that thumb against his own tortured cock. Wanting so badly to feel that. “N-no,” he answered, not really paying attention to what he was saying. “I mean…”
“So you’re just here to spy on me, then,” said Mulder, his hand squeezing his own erection through his pants. He let out a shuddering breath, still looking at Alex, who glanced over quickly, just long enough to see that Mulder’s lips were parted, his eyes half- closed and dark.
“Uh-I…” Krycek stuttered, looking over a half-second at a time as Mulder breathed deeply, licking his lips and touching himself through his slacks. Not fair! Krycek’s brain screamed. Not fucking fair! Time out! Game over! “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he breathed lamely, licking his lips over and over, panting and shifting in his seat.
“I’m talking about you…uhn…being sent to spy on me,” said Mulder, stopping to grunt and move his hand along his length, now stroking and squeezing alternately, eyes fluttering closed.
“Jesus,” Krycek breathed, eyes closing. This was way beyond any interrogation technique he’d ever experienced or been trained for, and he was failing miserably in his attempts to circumvent it.
“Look out,” gasped Mulder as Krycek veered halfway into the other lane, the cars there blaring their horns at him before he swerved back into his own lane. Mulder just smiled and went on jacking himself slowly through his pants, now thrusting gently into his own hand, narrow hips moving languidly in the seat. “So,” Mulder breathed, reaching for his belt and unfastening it calmly, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks. Krycek couldn’t help but watch, flicking his eyes back up to the road whenever he remembered, most of his attention on Mulder’s long slender fingers and the way they were now pushing aside the flaps of his fly and…oh GOD…reaching down into his beige knit shorts. “They…didn’t…know I’d wanna…fuck you…then,” Mulder said, thrusting up into his hand as he began jacking himself in earnest.
“Jesus! No!” gasped Krycek, now able to spare no attention for the road, wondering if it was Mulder’s plan to get them both killed. “Jesus, Mulder, are you just gonna…come all over your pants?!” he gasped, already imagining the lingering scent of Mulder’s cum in the car…on the seats…
Mulder leaned his head back against the seat now, baring his throat as he closed his eyes, moving up into his fist, gasping. “No,” he panted. “I’m gonna come down your throat. Pull the fuck over.”
“Fuck!” Alex yelped, swerving across the right lane, making horns blare again as he drove into the breakdown lane and slammed on the brakes, yanking back on the emergency brake savagely, undoing his seltbelt and diving into Mulder’s lap without any further thought. “Unngghh…” he moaned, mouth full of cock as Mulder’s hips rammed upward, shoving it down his throat somewhat painfully.
“Ah…ah…AH Alex!” Mulder cried out, thrusting hard and sloppily into Krycek’s slurping mouth, which widened and readjusted to take him, his neck straining as he turned his face first this way, then that, trying to get a good fit.
Mulder’s hands came down on Krycek’s head, grabbing his gelled hair in both hands, holding him in place as Mulder fucked up into his mouth desperately. “Ohhhh God!” Mulder sobbed, then Alex felt the flesh in his mouth swell and pulse, and his mouth and throat were filled with hot jets of cum and he struggled to swallow, choking as he tried not to let any of it dribble out onto Mulder’s shorts and pants. He gulped and swallowed, grunting and gasping as Mulder’s hips pressed upward in a hard arch, driving deeply down Alex’s throat.
Finally, when Alex thought he might just pass out from lack of air, Mulder’s hips sank slowly back down into the seat, his cock sliding a ways out of Alex’s mouth, giving Alex the opportunity to do a better job of cleaning away the spilled cum, which he did, humming and sighing, thoroughly licking up every little bit. He shivered as he felt Mulder’s grip in his hair loosen, then the fingers there began to stroke through the sweaty hair tenderly. Alex sighed, giving Mulder’s slightly-softening cock a parting kiss before pulling himself back up into his seat, Mulder’s hands sliding from his head heavily.
Alex sighed deeply, licking the rest of the spillage from his lips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the seat, catching his breath. His own cock was so hard and ready that he knew if he just reached down and gave himself two or three strokes, he’d be coming violently. He cried out loudly as he felt Mulder’s hand reach over and undo his belt one-handed.
“Need some help with that?” asked Mulder breathlessly, working Alex’s pants open and sliding his hand down the front of them.
“AHH!” sobbed Alex, hips arching up out of his seat, pushing himself into Mulder’s hand. His cries were then muffled as Mulder’s mouth sealed itself to his, sucking and licking through it, grunting as Mulder’s hand moved on his cock roughly. “MMMPH!” Alex sobbed, jerking his hips hard up into Mulder’s hand as he came, screaming down Mulder’s throat and pulsing his hips, riding out his orgasm as Mulder’s hand frantically squeezed and stroked, milking him of every last drop.
He gasped, wrenching his mouth away from Mulder’s to breathe, truly feeling himself grow dizzy from lack of oxygen. He gasped and panted, avoiding Mulder’s mouth, which sought to seal itself back to his. He needed to breathe before he passed out on the side of the freeway, dick hanging out of his pants. Mulder’s tongue stroked over his lips lightly, pulling his lower lip into another nibbling kiss before he pulled his hand out of Alex’s pants and fell back into his own seat, panting. He wiped his hand on some fastfood napkins he fished out of the glove compartment, then fastened his pants.
Alex caught his breath a moment more and then reached down, gingerly pushing his still-semi-hard cock into his cum-spattered shorts, then fastening his slacks, frowning at the small spatters left on the dark gray gabardine. At least they were washable. He could probably get fixed up at the nearest restroom. Once he had his pants fastened, he glanced over at Mulder, who was put back together and gathering up the files from where they’d fallen to the floor. Mulder didn’t look up at him, and he frowned, wondering how he should handle this extremely awkward situation.
“Pull over at the nearest fast food place,” said Mulder, sitting back up in his seat, flicking his hair off his sweaty forehead with his right hand while his left held the files on his lap. “You can get cleaned up and we can grab something to eat before heading over to Johnson’s.”
Alex’s lips parted, but he had nothing to say, so he just closed them and nodded, then refastened his seat belt and watched the rearview mirror for his first opportunity to merge back into traffic. When they were safely in the middle lane and driving northward once again, Mulder spoke.
“You can come over to my place after work tonight and tell me about your bosses,” he said, giving Alex a mild sideways look, head just slightly tilted.
Alex’s brow furrowed, his mind screaming in panic, the only outward evidence a long, controlled exhale.
“You’re too nice a kid to do their dirty work, Alex,” said Mulder, looking away from Alex to begin going through the files on his lap, putting them back into disorderly order.
Alex gasped out a pained laugh. “How would you know?” he said, his voice low. He stared out the windshield darkly. ‘Nice kid’ was his cover. The truth was anything but.
“Because I like you,” said Mulder, not looking up from his papers. “And I’m certainly not going to be satisfied doing that with you just once.” He looked up then, smile quirking up one half of his mouth lasciviously.
“Mulder,” said Alex, face serious. “You don’t know who you’re really dealing with here.” His voice was low and sad. He was terrified at giving Mulder confirmation of his suspicions, but he was feeling light-headed and tired and defeated in the face of Mulder’s incredible sexiness and presumptiveness, not to mention his…trust.
“You can tell me all about it, then,” said Mulder quietly, head now turned to face Alex. Alex felt himself being studied, measured, picked apart. Could he withstand such a strong will? Did he really want to?
“There’s a Jack-in-the-Box,” Alex said, relieved to have a change of subject.
Mulder nodded, sitting back in his seat, and Alex took the exit, breathing another huge sigh of relief as Mulder, for now, seemed to drop the subject.
“Nobody who listens to Hansen can be all bad,” said Mulder, lips quirking up again as Alex pulled into a parking spot.
This time Alex did smile, tiredly but genuinely, blinking as the sun and more stung his eyes. He turned off the motor and hesitated a moment, schooling his breathing and his heartbeat, wondering if what Mulder said was true. He stepped out of the car with Mulder, into what felt a lot like undiscovered country.
END