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You Just Like Me 'Cos I'm Good in Bed

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You Just Like Me 'Cos I'm Good In Bed by lush virtues

Title - You Just Like Me 'Cos I'm Good In Bed
Author - lush virtues
Category - Challenge fic.
Rating - R
Disclaimer - CC etc.
Warnings - None.
Archive - of course just let me know where.
Feedback - - other fic at
Spoilers - None.
Summary - Just a little harmless fun.
Notes - for Vyper.

It was three thirty in the afternoon when the phone in the basement of the Hoover building rang. Mulder eyed it carefully then looked up at Scully. Her eyebrows arched, giving an air of remote interest as he turned back to the phone and watched in once more.

"Mulder, do you want me to..." He raised an open palm and cut her words short, leaning back in the chair, putting his feet on the desk. He picked the receiver up and cradled it to his ear.

"Mulder." The silent pause that followed was interrupted only by a dull scratch as his shoes beat a retreat back across the desk and crashed to the floor, coming down with a dull thud.

Scully tilted her head to the left a little and the eyebrows went up once more. Mulder looked towards her, assessing the severity of that inquisitive look and of the unwanted attention coming his way. He spun around in the chair. His face read like a book, and that book just for now, was not hers to take in. She let out a sigh. Not again Mulder. She pulled another file jacket in front of her, no problem. Eavesdropping was easy in this office. A picnic. Sometimes even a veritable feast.

There were whispers and then there were furtive tones, but both seemed too loud to be appropriate to Mulder as the voice on the other end of the phone called to him and when he finally spoke his words were barely audible.

"You are?" What the fuck was Krycek doing in his apartment?

"Mulder, you've got to come home. Now." Krycek curled the phone wire around his index finger and took a look through the slats in the blind.

"What do you mean?" It was good to hear him but there was something wrong with that voice. It wasn't calm, it wasn't reasoned. Hell it wasn't even sexy, now there was a first. No response. "What's wrong?"

At the other end Krycek took a deep gulp. He didn't know how to say it. Really he didn't, and then the tears came and Mulder shifted slightly in his seat as he picked up on the faint sob.

"Please, Mulder. You have to hurry. There's something wrong"

He knew that for Krycek to call in his help it would have to be bad. Or worse. Meetings were planned, albeit at short notice sometimes, but that was just the way it worked. It was always how it happened.

"Um, I'd love to but it's kind of difficult at the moment." Mulder tipped his head down and stole a look back over his shoulder at Scully. Sure the files were open and the eyes were moving across the words, but he knew. And she knew that he knew. He turned back and sheltered the receiver with his hand, covering what little noises were coming out. "You see..."

Mulder's calm, almost inaudible tones were shattered by rising waves of panic in Krycek's voice.

"OK, OK. Calm down" Mulder paused. "What's the problem?" He bent down to the floor in an attempt to shelter his speech behind the desk, cleaning his shoe as he did so.

In the apartment Krycek took a deep breath and looked forlornly at his groin. "I...Mulder..." he switched the phone to the other ear and turned to face the light. "Please, just come quickly...there's something wrong with..."

He paused again. The shallow quick breathing from Mulder's mouth close in to the phone resonated through his body. "Mulder...there's. Shit. Please just get here Mulder, there is something wrong with my fucking cock."

He left the conversation hanging, waiting for words of wisdom, or reassurance. Something would be nice.

"Uh, OK. Really?" Mulder gulped.

"Yes. Really" Krycek's voice had drifted into desperation and it showed in each line of his face as it creased with each word. The phone embedded itself in his face as the grip tightened ever more. He punctuated the silence with pained gasps and agitated breaths until the voice at the other end came back to him.


"I can't say over the phone, please, Mulder, just..."

"OK, OK. Just stay there, I'll be there soon." Mulder swivelled back to face his desk, to face Scully, and replaced the receiver down quietly enough he hoped to keep her from stirring. Not a chance. He sat and stared at the phone. Just how to explain this one away? He tapped out a beat on the desk.

He grabbed his jacket and tried desperately to make good on his idea of a fast escape.

"Are you OK, Mulder?" Scully looked up from the file, curious.

"Um, no actually - I have to go. Something's come up." He walked to the door and pulled it open.

"No kidding, Mulder." It wasn't the first time he'd acted odd. But at three thirty in the afternoon. Hell, she must be worth it the way she has him henpecked.

"No really. It's not like that, Scully." Mulder fumbled and played with the door handle.


"No, its not. Honestly."

"Well what's it like then, Mulder?"

He bowed his head and pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I...I'll catch you later."

"Mul..." but he was gone. Scully let out another sigh as the draft from the door caught the papers on her desk. She brought a hand down and held them in place. Damn.

Traffic. Damn traffic. Everywhere. No more than usual but forever in the way. Mulder's knuckles whitened on the wheel. Put your foot down to the floor baby. Pump that gas. And he did, each step of the way. Each turn, each twist, each gap, all gracefully negotiated at maximum possible speed. Blocks blurred to the side, pedestrians merged in an amalgamation of colours. His eyes fixed ahead, heart racing.

In his head Krycek's words repeated in time with the whirr of the engine. As it got faster, the words came again and again. He pushed more until the words merged too. Maybe he should have brought Scully. No, too delicate. He could never hope to explain with any clarity just why Alex Krycek was in his apartment. Not in any words that would make it less absurd in her eyes.

He brought the car to a screeching halt; the smell of rubber infiltrated his lungs as he ran for the elevator. He pushed the buttons again and again somehow believing that the harder he hit them, the quicker it would arrive. Damn elevators. He pulled the door to the stairs almost wrenching the muscles from his shoulder as he did so, and bounded the steps two at a time until he got to the fourth.

As he reached his apartment the door was ajar. Not much, just a fraction of a gap, but enough to make him reach for his weapon. Only fools take chances. Entrapment? He just wasn't sure. He hadn't heard Krycek sound like that before and it was plausible that the words had been spoken - shit - cried, under the duress of a cold steel barrel held to the neck or head. Stranger things had happened, most of them to Mulder.

As the door opened he was met with a wall of silence, it hit him square on and stopped him dead. The bedroom door was wide open and as he turned he took in Alex, crisp white sheets draped over a body to die for, propped half up, with all of the pillows in the room stuffed behind his back. The eyelids were closed, and a lame expression of surrender etched across his face. This wasn't like him at all.

He laid his weapon on the table as he walked though to the still of the bedroom, throwing his jacket to the floor as he approached the bed.

"Alex?" At first Mulder was calm. He could see the ribcage rise and fall with deep breaths. His sleeping beauty. But the lack of a response brought the word to his mouth again only louder this time. "Alex?"


He walked around to the side of the bed and put a palm to Krycek's forehead. The temperature was a little high but not out of the ordinary. He perched on the edge of the bed and leaned over.

As he did so an arm emerged from underneath him, the hand clutching Mulder's tie and winding it once around the wrist. Instinctively Mulder tried to back off, but as both of his hands fought against the restriction, another appeared and pulled him astride the body beneath him.

"Alex..." Mulder flailed with his arms, desperate to keep his balance. "Alex, what the fuck are you doing?"

His hands continued in a vain attempt to release the tie from around Krycek's wrist until piercing green eyes emerged from behind their protective lids and met Mulder's. He looked for something in the sea that flooded through him but there was no story there. The eyes were just there. Burning him to the core. The look stilled him and he sat mouth agape trying to find words, stumbling with each attempt.

" said...what are you..." Fuck. That look just killed him. He couldn't read it. Anger or lust. Playtime, showtime, panic time. Mulder wasn't sure, the face in front of him was frozen. Just a stare.

"Alex, what's going on?" Still nothing. "What's wrong, you sounded so pained. Wounded. You said there was something wrong with..."

"There is." Krycek's lips moved but the face did not, but for a brief blink as thick lashes curled their way down then slowly up again to reveal the same stony stare.

"What?" Mulder gulped. He tried to retreat once more but Krycek had him.

"Take a look for yourself." Krycek lifted the sheet with his other hand, inviting him to pull it back some more.

Mulder edged back down the bed a little, his movement still restricted by the hold, and pulled the sheet back a little at a time, one eye half wincing, fearful of what he might find. What the fuck? Looks fine to me, Alex.

"What's wrong with it?" Mulder pulled back on the tie a little, frowning.

The crack of a smile formed at the side of Krycek's mouth, turning quickly into a devious grin as he spoke and waited for a response.

"It's not in your mouth, Mulder."

Mulder looked down as it twitched beneath him. A half incredulous smile broke across his face. It was no indication that he was happy and was accompanied only by spoken words that were never an apology.

"I'm sorry?"

"I's not in your mouth."

Krycek took advantage of Mulder's momentary relaxation and wound the tie round his wrist twice more, a sharp movement that drew Mulder towards him. Hook, line and sinker.

Mulder took another look down, then back at the grin, at the eyes that now sparkled, the mission half accomplished.

"You mean you called me.."

"Yes." A deep whisper stopped Mulder mid sentence. Their proximity forcing warm breath against his face.


"Yes." There it was again.

Krycek wound the tie round once more and sat up a little reeling Mulder into his mouth, meeting him with open lips and a tongue that delved, explored and tasted. All at once and repeatedly. Mulder closed his eyes when he realised that Krycek had done so too, and allowed himself to slip into that mouth and savour the moment. They didn't come often; he took them whenever they did.

Krycek drew back leaving Mulder straddling his naked body, leaning close in to his face still, eyes closed, lips parted. He took the view in, wanting to frame it. Forever. He gave a tug at the tie, and Mulder's eyes slowly brought the look of wonder on Krycek's face back into view.

Mulder shuffled back on his knees, and the tie was unwound, inch by delicate inch. Just enough to allow Mulder to back up, but never allowed any slack. Krycek held his arm up, always in control, guiding his pleasure and sank back into the pillows as Mulder lowered his head.

He caressed his lover with succulent licks along the length of his cock, working his way around, taking the odd teasing nibble. Just enough pressure with the teeth to evoke erotic moans that only inspired him further. He slackened his jaw muscles and slowly took the entire length into his mouth.

Beneath him, Krycek resisted the urge to thrust through those lips. This was Mulder working him, no exertion on his part required. The pleasure was his for now.

It didn't take long for Krycek to surrender to the mouth eliciting each pleasurable sensation known to him. The tie hung freely from Mulder's neck, Krycek's hands now splayed on either side of him, his head pressed back deep into the pillows, eyes closed, a soft sheen of sweat across his face. And a grin of estuarial proportions etched deep into his face.

Mulder crawled on all fours over Krycek's body until one face hovered above the other. As he moved down, his lips brushed Krycek's. The lightest of touches, extracting a groan from the man beneath him, before his mouth moved in, hovering next to Krycek's ear.

"You bastard." The words were whispered with a breath that infiltrated deep. Krycek let out a laugh, and placed his arm around Mulder's back, pulling him close in until only the clothes on Mulder's body parted their skin. Mulder buried his head deep into the pillows and they lay cheek to cheek, in silence, until a pattern of normality returned to their breathing.

"Why, Alex? Why do you do this to me?"

"You know why, babe."

"Tell me."

"It's just you. Everything about you just drives me to it. You know I can't help myself sometimes."

"Be specific."

"You want specific?"


"OK. Your complexity, arrogance, tenderness, charm, beauty, strength, subtly, frailty, your need, your lust, your desire, your patience. I just can't help myself when it comes to you." Krycek stopped and waited for a response.

"That's it?" Mulder laughed.

"No. Appreciation. More than any of those things it is your appreciation."

"And you think that I appreciate being dragged here under false pretences like this?"

"In the circumstances, yes." Krycek smiled.

"Hhmmphh." Mulder's noise was lost in the pillow as he lowered his head back down.

Krycek massaged the back of the head cradled in his hands, rubbing his fingers through the hair and deep on the scalp below.

"I know you do, babe, I know you do." He continued working his fingers as Mulder's head turned towards him. His lips brushed the edge of Krycek's ear as his voice lowered and whispered some more.

"You know, I might appreciate it more, Alex, if you'd take care of something for me." Mulder rubbed himself against Krycek as the words fell from his mouth.

"Sure. I've told you what drives me, and I'm yours just as soon as you return the favour."

Mulder turned his head into the pillow once more. "Blackmail."

"You like that about me?"

"No. You're blackmailing me."

"No, I just want to hear those words babe. Fairs fair."

"No. Your ego's too big as it is."

Krycek turned his head a little, bringing his own mouth to Mulder's ear.

"Now that cuts deep, babe."

"Truth hurts, huh?"

Krycek squeezed his hand between their bodies and rubbed at Mulder's erection, eliciting murmours from the older man as he writhed, pushing himself against the fingers.

"Come on babe, I've told you."

Mulder shifted position as he vied to get the most out of the hand on the wrong side of his trousers.


"Come on, babe, just tell me."


"Damn right."


"You don't mean that."


Krycek worked Mulder's fly down, combining the action with a slow sensuous rub. He rolled Mulder onto his back and palmed his way in, cupping Mulder's balls, attempting to avoid contact of any consequence elsewhere.

"C'mon, just tell me. I know why you love me, sometimes I just need to hear you say it."

Mulder's lips parted as Krycek leaned over and sucked at his lower lip then traced a line down his neck before resting his lips around a nipple.

"Just say it and I'm yours." Krycek moved down to the navel and licked at the soft hair that trailed its way down toward Mulder's groin. Mulder arched his back and tried moving his cock into the hand that was now static.

"C'mon Alex, don't tease."

"Say it then."

"Say what? That you have the most sensuous responsive body and I just can't keep my hands off it.


"OK. You are thoughtful, tender, caring and selfless." Mulder ended the sentence with a snigger.

"No." Krycek moved his fingers to curl around the shaft and slowly began rhythmically pumping in time with the continuing words, pausing with each break that Mulder slipped into, the control was with him now.

"Strong, energetic, beautiful, rampant, willing." Mulder allowed exasperated groans to slip from his lips between each word as he tried desperately to keep the rhythm fluent and in time with the hand that drove him.

"Just say it and I'm yours babe."

"Uuuhhhh..." Muffled moans resonated through Mulder's body, vibrating through the skin and into Krycek's hand as it moved. "Tempestuous, flirtatious, arrogant, spiteful..."

Alex observed the lips before him as the rhythm continued, but the slant had changed and he became all too aware of the frustrations of the man in his hands. Krycek's face dropped a little, but Mulder's eyes never opened to see it.

Krycek maintained the pressure and moved faster. As the body beneath him arched in response to the quickening rhythm, Krycek slid his other hand under the pillows and pulled out his non-violent weapon of choice. The sort he kept for special occasions.

Krycek snapped one handcuff around Mulder's wrist and pulled his arm up to attach the other to the bedframe. His other hand continued to pump, and he leaned down to couple the action with teeth that initially just tugged at Mulder's nipple. Confused by the newly acquired restriction, Mulder could do little but place his hand on his lover's head, taking clumps of hair between his fingers.

With each movement the pressure was heightened, until lost in the moment, Mulder came, spurting warm semen onto his cotton shirt. As the spasms subsided, he gasped words at the man who still knelt at his side, licking at his nipple, grinning.

"Alex?" Mulder pulled his arm until the skin on his wrist started to give way to the coarse metal. "What the fuck are you doing?" He brought his free hand over, but Krycek's naked body gave little for him to grasp at, and as he tried to catch a wrist, his arm was met with two hands, not dissimilar in stature to his own but his weak flailing was no match for their combined strength.

"Alex, no don't..." Mulder's voice wavered as Krycek let go of his wrist and moved back from the bed and walked into the lounge.

Krycek stood out of sight, taking his clothes from the side of the sofa, getting dressed as the words continued from the bedroom.

"Alex, don't you fucking dare..."

Krycek grinned as he stepped into his boots.

"Come back here and let me out of these...I'll say whatever you want..." Mulder manoeuvered himself to the side of the bed and stumbled to a standing position, still tugging at the handcuffs. Krycek stood in the bedroom doorway, admiring the sight before his eyes. The ruffled hair and now shapeless clothes that hung from his very own protagonist. He smiled and, without uttering a word, threw Mulder's mobile phone into the bedroom, watching as it landed on and bounced across the bed towards him.

Krycek paused at the door, taking one last look before walking out and closing the door behind him. That view. He would kill to see that every morning.

Mulder frantically felt through his trouser pockets with his free hand. Through change, fluff, a tissue. Everything but the key to the handcuffs. He knew Krycek had taken it from him, he just hadn't noticed when exactly, and the vague fumbling was his last hope. The moment he saw him dressing he had known. He looked around the room. Nothing.

He sank back on the bed, humiliated. Angry with himself for such stupidity, yet smiling at the audacity he had succumbed to. Suckered, and he knew it. And yet something in him warmed in admiration for the man who chased him and sated him every time they met.

He threw his head back into the pillows and sighed. Revenge. Sweet and served cold. That much he knew. Sweeter, longer and far more humiliating. It had to be.

He removed his free arm from the shirtsleeve and pulled the material off his back. The cotton came down over the handcuff and he ripped it off. Bastard. That's a shirt you owe me too, Alex. He leaned to pick up his mobile and flicked through the numbers. No one immediately sprung to mind. The bastard switched phones so often there was no point in Mulder ever having his number and the chances he would come back, anyway, were beyond zilch.

It could only be one person and he knew that this part was Krycek's final assault on his dignity. The bastard had come close to revealing the true nature of their relationship to Scully on more than one occasion, and this was just another nail in Fox Mulder's coffin.

"Hi, Scully - it's me." His eyes rolled to the ceiling as she started. "No, I didn't expect to be phoning you so soon either." He let out a sigh. This was the easy bit, the bit where she couldn't see him. "Yeah, Scully - could you call by my place on your way home?

"I'll explain when you get here, but just let yourself in, don't bother knocking."

When the key finally turned in his apartment door, Mulder had been sitting on the bed for close to three hours. Through skilful or maybe just dogged determination, he managed to make himself look half presentable, or at the very least, a little better than the ruffled mess he had been when Krycek left him. He was still barechested, but since the only alternative had been his stained shirt, it was no great shake.

He pulled his legs round, planting his feet firmly on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. Cursing.

"Mulder?" As the door closed behind her, Scully gave a cursory glance around and as she caught sight of her partner sitting on the bed, she tilted her head. "Are you OK?"


Her heels echoed in the silence as she made her way into the bedroom, and when Mulder lifted his cuffed hand up, a laugh slipped out, just enough to send blood to his face and turn it a deep shade of red.

"Can you?" Mulder pulled at the handcuff as she felt through her pockets for a key. She patted at her jacket pockets and pulled out a handkerchief, before stuffing it back in. The same routine on the inside pockets, until she shrugged her shoulders and walked back out into the lounge to go through her bag.

Mulder doubled forwards, pressing his forehead into the palm of his hand. You bastard, Alex, I swear I'm going to...

Scully walked back through, holding a key out towards Mulder, but his head stayed down. Embarrassment he was used to, but this? She leaned over him and pressed the key into the cuff on his wrist, taking her time, to fake as best she could a key that wouldn't engage the lock.

"Scully, please..."

"Now, do you want me to leave the other cuff on the bed?" She smirked as the key turned and he pulled his wrist away from the restraint.


As she stepped back, he sank his head into both hands, and rocked back and forth a little in silence.

"Mulder, worse things have happened, OK. It's no big deal."

"To you it's not, Scully."

"And it won't go any further than me, Mulder. Don't worry."

He stood and walked into the lounge and paced. The best plans are always paced out. Never stationery, nor full pelt but created at a leisurely pace and his mind was working on it already. Behind him he heard Scully pull her bag up from the sofa and the clinking of heels making their way toward the door.

"I actually think it's romantic, Mulder, if you must know."

"What?" He couldn't bring himself to face her, so her didn't even try.

"The rose." She pointed at a rose on the coffee table. Two leaves still fresh, and a deep red array of petals that formed a solitary flowerhead. "It was outside the door when I arrived."

He picked the rose up, twisting it in his fingers, eyeing the flower with great detail, and as he heard the door shut he fingered the card attached to the stem by a length of red ribbon. The bastard had come back. He couldn't have planned it down to this. He had departed, gone to the florists and returned to leave a calling card that he knew Scully would find. Mulder turned the card to read the writing.

'I know why you love me, but I needed to hear you say it, and I think that next time you will. A.'

End Note: Er, I guess that means some sort of revenge is in order...uh, ok. It'll be along soonish ;) It wasn't meant to happen that way <shrug>

Archived: September 15, 2001