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Requital By Lucy Snowe

By Lucy Snowe
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Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Biogenesis
Content Warning: m/m interaction
Summary: A missing scene from Biogenesis. I can't imagine why CC didn't see fit to include it.....
Disclaimers: The characters who inhabit the X-Files universe certainly aren't mine. No infringement intended, no money made. Please don't sue unless you wish to assume responsibility for my student loans.
Author's Notes: This is a PWP-vignetty thing that came to me after the season finale. Thanks to Frankie for giving a beginning a brief look/see. It's unbeta'd, though, so any and all mistakes are my fault. Thanks also go out to all of my wonderful friends, who coddled, cajoled and occassionally threatened me during my recent bout of writer's block. Feedback is desperately craved.
Dedicated with great love and admiration to my wonderful friend, Karen Byerly.

by Lucy Snowe

Krycek posed casually in the doorframe of Mulder's bedroom, his mouth set in a grim line as he took in the scene before him.

"Put your clothes back on, Diana." His face was serene, but the clipped, venomous delivery of his words and the anger that blazed from his eyes belied his calm mask.

Startled, Diana whirled to face him. Unashamed of her nakedness, she straightened her shoulders and met his gaze squarely. "I wasn't expecting you here," she stated calmly.

"That's obvious enough," Krycek replied softly and nodded to the clothes Diana had left scattered on the floor. With a resigned shrug, she bent to the floor and began dressing.

Turning on his heel, Krycek retraced his steps into the living room, clenching his fists with fury and disgust.

A few minutes later she joined him, still buttoning her jacket. "Well?" she asked.

"What the fuck were you doing in there?"

Diana folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. "That should be obvious enough."

"Cancerman's just not doing it for you anymore?"

A brief flush marred her face before she swiftly regained composure. Krycek swiftly walked across the room to her, smiling evilly when she took an involuntary step backwards.

"Listen carefully, you scheming whore. Leave. Mulder. Alone."

Fury twisted her face into a ugly mask. "What's your sick obsession with him, anyway?" she hissed. "Last time I checked, Fox wasn't interested in men. And I doubt he'll make an exception for a crippled traitor."

Krycek's eyes narrowed and he backhanded her with a blow that sent her staggering against the wall. "Get out."

Diana's obvious terror signaled her defeat, and she grabbed her bag and walked out of the apartment, viciously slamming the door behind her.

The loud bang roused Mulder from sleep and Krycek heard him tentatively call out for Scully.

Walking into the bedroom, he found Mulder sitting up in bed, the comforter fallen to his waist. Krycek was momentarily riveted by the expanse of toned, slightly furred flesh. Glancing up at Mulder's face, Krycek watched his eyes widen with confusion and hatred.

"What are you doing here?" Mulder asked angrily. Krycek held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you," Krycek told him and winced at his beseeching tone.

Mulder opened his mouth to reply, but his response turned into a groan as he grabbed his head and rocked slowly in agony. Krycek crossed to the bed and sat down next to him, calmly waiting for the episode to pass. Mulder took a deep, pained breath and looked at him with tortured eyes.

"What's happening to me? What have you done?"

"It's not me, Mulder," he said softly. "The artifact. It's affecting you somehow. I'm not sure exactly why, but I think...." Krycek's words trailed off as Mulder succumbed to another fit. Lying back on the bed, he clutched his hair wildly, and rolled his head back and forth.

"The voices," he whispered brokenly, "please make them stop."

Only minimally aware of what he was doing, Krycek reached out his hand and gently pulled Mulder's hands away from his head. He wiped a damp lock of hair from Mulder's forehead and began gently carding his fingers through the soft hair. Mulder's eyes remained tightly shut in pain, but he turned his face into Alex's hand, blindly seeking comfort.

Krycek drew in a sharp breath, stunned by Mulder's actions. His hand stilled against the stubbled cheek, and his heart rate skyrocketed as he felt warm lips begin to nuzzle his palm. He leaned down towards Mulder's face and gently kissed his forehead. Mulder let out a soft sigh and Krycek lowered his mouth to claim a kiss. Opening his lips, Mulder immediately deepened the kiss and Alex was lost in a maelstrom of sensation. Krycek luxuriated in the pounding desire that raced through his body as their tongues tangled and dueled. He broke off contact to bite and suckle a path along Mulder's jaw line and down his throat. Groaning, Mulder grabbed his head and pulled him into another breathless kiss.

After long minutes, Alex pulled back and leaned his forehead against Mulder's, wondering just what the hell he was doing. Mulder gave a brief cry of distress and began murmuring incoherently.

"Shhh, it's alright," Krycek whispered, again running his fingers through Mulder's hair, attempting to soothe and calm. After a few minutes, he quieted and then pulled away.

"Alex?" he said uncertainly, "What are we doing here? We need to find Augustus Cole.... He's going to kill again..... we can't....."

Krycek looked at his with alarm. Why the hell did Mulder think they were back on their first case? "It's okay, Mulder. We found him. Everything's fine."

Staring at him with blank confusion, Mulder shook his head. "But.... how? What?"

Unsure of what to do or how to answer him, Krycek stole another kiss, needing to silence him and feeling in thrall to the blood coursing through his veins. Mulder's arms locked around him and pulled him to lay on top of him. With a fevered cry, he arched his back and began rhythmically straining against Alex's body. Krycek could feel the steely strength of Mulder's cock through the layers of the denim and down that separated them. He began grinding mindlessly, the feel of hardness against hardness a blissful agony of sensation. Realizing he was about to explode in his pants like a green virgin, he pulled away from the embrace and yanked the comforter away to expose Mulder's naked body. For a long moment he couldn't breathe, transfixed by the realization that his long held fantasies had somehow transformed into reality, into flesh. Mulder continued to writhe spasmodically into the air, his whimpering cries confessing his distress at the sudden absence of the hard body that had blanketed him.

Krycek let out a harsh cry as breath rushed out of his strained lungs. Wanting to devour and claim Mulder's entire body, but incapable of deciding where to begin, he bent down over Mulder's glistening cock and swallowed it whole. As his nose came to rest in the musky, wiry nest of pubic hair, he inhaled deeply, savoring the scent and feel of possession. Mulder's hands grabbed Krycek's hair frantically as he began chanting a litany of pleas. Responding with an answering need, Krycek began suckling, sucking, tonguing the throbbing cock. The bitter, lush taste of semen flooded his senses and he sucked harder, desperate to taste Mulder's come in his mouth, feel it flow down his throat. Mulder let out a feral shout, and Krycek exulted as he greedily swallowed, draining the spasming, softening flesh.

Grinning triumphantly, Krycek moved up the bed to devour Mulder's mouth, feeding him his own scent and flavor. Mulder moaned low in his throat and his hands began a frantic scramble to release Krycek from confining denim. Too clumsy and fevered to fathom the intricacy of a button fly, Mulder tugged uselessly at the waistband until Krycek's hands gently pushed his away, swiftly opening the jeans. Mulder sighed contentedly as the hot flesh sprang into his eager hands. He initially set a strong, almost painful rhythm, but it quickly disintegrated into an erratic, slackened pace as he sank back into unconsciousness.

Alex gazed blankly at the still form beneath him, his brain too desire-numbed to understand why the gripping heat had abandoned his cock. He moaned frantically as understanding dawned, staring with anguished need at the quieted, useless hands that rested on his thighs. His own hand flew down to grab his aching flesh and after a few vicious, luxuriant strokes, he came with an obscene roar, his semen painting an obscure image on the canvas of Mulder's sleeping flesh.

Krycek collapsed bonelessly to the side of Mulder, his fingers reaching out to trace languid patterns through the semen-coated chest. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the rare sense of completion and peace. With a regretful sigh, he forced himself to sit up and slowly rearranged and fastened his jeans. Placing a soft, fleeting kiss on Mulder's cheek, Alex rose and began scanning the room for something to clean Mulder. His eyes lighted on a discarded t-shirt, but as his hand grabbed the soft cotton he was struck with a sudden need to leave Mulder as he was. Staring at the unconscious figure, he felt a surge of savage pride at the sight of his semen marring Mulder's form. In the next instant, his satisfaction dissipated in a painful rush, replaced by a gnawing feeling of despair.

Alex turned away and walked back into the living room, slumping on the couch. As he held his head in his hands, Diana's words came back to haunt him. He really was a sick, twisted fuck. Though he'd dreamed of consummating his lust //love?// with Mulder for years, this was never a scenario he imagined. He craved some sort of recognition, reciprocation from Mulder. Instead, he'd taken advantage of Mulder's vulnerability, used him when he was too confused and feeble to fully understand or participate in the act.

If Mulder remembered any of this, he'd have even more reason to hate him.

His reverie was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. He listened intently as Skinner's voice curtly relayed Scully's location. Without bothering to reply, he ended the call and rose slowly to exit the apartment.

The end.