From: pollyabywater@yahoo.com
Date: 14 Apr 2004 16:48:59 -0700
Subject: [atxc-pi] NEW: A Traitor with the Rest -NC-17- (0/1)
Source: atxc

Title: A Traitor with the Rest 
Author: Polly Bywater 
Feedback Email: pollyabywater@yahoo.com 
Author's Website: http://www.geocities.com/polly_bywater/index.html 
Status: NEW - Standalone 
Size: 24k 
Category: PWP 
Pairings: Mulder/Krycek 
Rating: NC-17 
Gossamer Category: Unclassified ~ Sex (PWP) ~ Slash 
Summary: Scully witnesses something that rocks her world. Written for the X-Files FQF. 
 
Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for story information.

Beta: Maxine (Thanks!)

Disclaimer: Chris Carter and a horde of corporate suits own them, not I. They
make all the profits, but I have a much richer fantasy life.

Timeline/Spoilers: Late 5th season, after 'The Red and the Black' but before
'The End', references events in 'TRatB' so if that's going to spoil something
for you (like any of us haven't seen THAT ep) go no further.  Notes:  I've
undoubtedly taken artistic license with the interior layout of Mulder's
apartment, for which I make no apologies. I also wanted my Alex to have both
arms, just because. Make up your own reason how THAT happened - I like to blame 
Jeremiah Smith, myself.  Written for the X-Files FQF
http://www.squidge.org/~peja/xfiles_fest/slash.htm and meets (I hope) the
following challenges (in no particular order): Medium no. 18. Krycek must at
some point say, "You are naked and you are not in your right mind." (Knightsky) 
Easy no. 34. What would it take to make Alex Krycek blush? Write what you think 
it would take. Easy no. 28. What's your favorite kink? Include that in the
story (and that would be the voyeurism and the 'dirty pillow-talk'). And just
for grins, Easy no. 2. Mulder likes it when Krycek talks dirty. Krycek is
uncharacteristically unsure in this area. (Kira)   Mine eyes are full of tears, 
I cannot see: And yet salt water blinds them not so much But they can see a
sort of traitors here. Nay, if I turn my eyes upon myself, I find myself a
traitor with the rest. -Shakespeare, Richard II   Shit. Damn. Hell.

Dana Scully wasn't usually given to cursing- in fact, there was only one
subject that reliably, consistently, brought expletives to mind, and that, of
course, was Mulder. Rarely a day went by when she didn't think curses at
Mulder, even if she managed to keep them inside her head, for the most
part.

Today was no different. Sunday afternoon, and it should have been her
well-earned day of rest, except that she hadn't heard from Mulder since they'd
left the office Friday afternoon, and he wasn't answering his phone. Not his
cell phone, nor his home phone, which, given Mulder's tendency to hare off on
some lunatic venture without bothering to advise her first, led Scully to
believe he was somewhere knee deep in disaster. 

Probably needing her help.

Damn it all. She'd believed, after everything that happened at Wiekamp a few
weeks ago, that Mulder had finally stopped running off without her. Finally
accepted her as an equal partner, his colleague as much as his friend.

She should have known. Sometimes she thought Mulder had a seriously
self-destructive streak to go along with his impulse control problem.

Scully parked her car and went inside Mulder's apartment building, absently
noting the need for a fresh paint job on the walls. The long hall was
absolutely featureless, almost institutional, always depressing.

As she raised her hand to knock, she heard a muffled noise from inside that had 
her drawing her weapon in a smooth rush of motion. With her other hand, she
silently sorted through her keys, isolating the one that fit Mulder's door,
sliding it into the lock and turning it with infinite, soundless care. Opening
the door cautiously, as she'd been trained, Scully heard noises again, still
distant somehow, but now embarrassingly recognizable.

Moans. And yes, almost a whimper, there. And nothing- *nothing* -that sounded
like pain. At least, not the kind that resulted from physical injury.

Frustration, maybe.

I'll be good and God damned, Scully found herself thinking, shocked into a
phrase that her dad had occasionally used. Mulder's having sex, and since he's
not on the couch in front of the VCR, he must be having it *with* somebody! 

She was suddenly so curious she couldn't stand it. So curious, in fact, that it 
felt like her brain was on fire. She needed to know just what type of woman
appealed to Fox Mulder physically, particularly since it didn't seem to be the
petite, red-haired, blue-eyed kind. 

Another muffled moan from behind a half-closed door just down the hall from the 
bathroom, and Mulder apparently *did* have a bedroom. 

Who knew? 

Fascinated, Scully set her purse and her gun down, then crept closer; close
enough to hear Mulder's voice, low and husky, words not quite intelligible, the 
tone like nothing she'd ever heard from Mulder before. It shivered over her
spine like a fingertip stroke, gathering heat at the small of her back, making
her feel impatient to *see* what was going on.

Feeling very daring, she peered through the door, only to be frustrated when
all she could see was piles of boxes, stacked six deep just inside the door.
Scully rubbed her face exasperatedly, wondering again what kind of loser would
permit Mulder to inflict his idea of housekeeping on her. A prostitute, maybe? 

Probably. 

Jesus, Mulder.

A narrow canyon in Mulder's cardboard mountains led to what she assumed was the 
source of the noises she could still hear. She silently wove her way through
the maze, pausing when she realized she could now recognize words mixed in with 
moaning. Mulder's words... and what words! If she hadn't been so utterly
familiar with Mulder's voice, she would never have believed her ears. Never
have believed what was coming out of her partner's mouth.

"Oh, yeah. Fucking beautiful slut. Suck me- God! Yes, baby, just like that-
God, your mouth! So hot! Love that- love your mouth, so good, so good to me,
such a good cocksucker. No, no, baby, not yet- don't let me. Don't make me.
Wanna wait, make it last, love you all day long. Could fuck your mouth all day, 
all night." 

This was answered by a humming moan and a distinctive, wet, slurping sound that 
couldn't be mistaken for anything other than what it was.

To Scully's distant shock, she felt her skin prickle and her nipples grow
tight, joining an ache in her pelvis that threatened to bring her to her knees
as she listened shamelessly... and Mulder, damn him, never shut up. She should
have known.

"Ah, shit, yeah, lick me, baby. Put your fingers up my ass and get me ready.
Just like that. God, you've got the sweetest mouth, wanna pour myself down your 
throat, so fucking beautiful. Wanna fuck you, fuck your mouth, want you to fuck 
me, come all over you, mark you- Mine, you're mine, oh yeah, please
Godyeslovenow! Oh! OH!"

A hard thump of *want* slugged her deep in her gut as she heard Mulder's voice
hit a note she wouldn't have believed he could reach, along with a definite
growl of satisfaction from his bed partner, and it took her a moment to
assimilate what she'd heard.

A *growl*. 'Fuck me'. Oh, hold the phone! Mulder was with a *man*! No wonder he 
he'd never made a serious move on *her*, Scully realized almost peripherally as 
that overwhelming curiosity grabbed her again. Then another voice spoke, a
raspy, almost harsh *male* voice, and she had to bite down on her own fist to
keep *herself* from moaning at the unknown man's incendiary words.

"Taste yourself, Fox. You taste so good."

Oh, God, oh, God, I bet he does, she thought a bit wildly over the soft kissing 
noises a few short feet away. Damn it all, I have to *see* this! And who the
hell is Mulder with that would call him *Fox*, for that matter?

Crouching a bit, Scully virtually scuttled until she could finally see the
mirror on Mulder's dresser, which conveniently - and graphically - reflected a
full side view of the two men on the bed... and once again, she had to cram her 
fist in her mouth to stifle her reaction.

Jesus Fucking Christ. Mulder was fucking Alex Fucking Krycek. Or not, she
realized dimly as her head spun in a dizzying mixture of nausea, lust, rage,
and shock. If she believed the evidence of her own eyes, then Alex Fucking
Krycek was fucking Mulder. Actually, who was fucking whom when the penetratee
was on top of the penetrator?

She closed her eyes, sucked in a silent, steadying breath of air, and forced
herself to look again, with a more objective view. Mulder was slowly lowering
himself onto Krycek's cock, and she guessed she should have known if Mulder was 
going to be gay he would have to be a size queen and this certainly wasn't the
*first* time they'd done this and God Almighty but they were beautiful together 
and NO she did not just think that - but it was true. The dust-hazed golden
sunlight poured through the windows and spilled over their skin, illuminating
the ripple of muscle and the fine line of bone, turning them into a living
erotic sculpture; bodies just similar enough to be symmetrical, yet with
sufficient contrast to delight the eye. 

Krycek hissed something she didn't understand and Mulder froze, both of them
staring into each other's eyes, until Mulder saw whatever it was he needed to
see and took Krycek fully inside.

Jesus. And Krycek looked like an angel in paradise with that expression of
sublime bliss on his face. Mulder seemed to agree, anyway, judging from the way 
his hands framed Krycek's face, thumbs brushing over those high cheekbones. He
waited, apparently until Krycek's hips made an abortive upwards thrust that was 
impeded by the squeeze of Mulder's muscled thighs.

"Talk to me, Alexei. Tell me what you want." 

What was this? 

Scully crept a bit closer and knelt; near enough now to hear the genuine whine
in Krycek's voice when he answered.

"Fox. You know I can't- please, baby, move?"

"I want to hear you say it, Alex. I want to hear the words," Mulder murmured,
his hands sliding along Krycek's arms to entwine their fingers. "Tell me how I
feel. Tell me what you feel. Please, Alexei, do this for me."

"God, you're fucking relentless. You know that," Krycek said in an exasperated
voice, and Mulder smiled at him, the kind of smile Scully had rarely seen on
her partner's face, relaxed and joyous.

"Hey, you said 'fucking'! Come on, baby. Tell me more," Mulder coaxed, and to
Scully's shock, Krycek smiled back, beautifully. 

It was at that point that Scully recognized that a) they were using not just
first names but *endearments* with each other, and b) whatever was between the
two of them was far from casual in nature. 

It was an observation that stunned her, and it took her a moment to realize
Krycek was speaking, his voice low, husky, and pure aural sex.

"Fox, baby, your ass feels like heaven, so slick and so tight and so hot around 
my cock. Love you riding me. Love fucking you, love being fucked by you,
fucking love you, Fox."

"Alex," Mulder whispered, closing his eyes and leaning forward until his
forehead rested against Krycek's. He mumbled something against Krycek's lips
that Scully could not hear, but she was suspiciously certain it was 'I love you 
too', especially when they started kissing again; deep, devouring open-mouthed
kisses that occasionally revealed a glimpse of a searching tongue, accompanied
with gasping sighs and moans.

Mulder started moving, as if he couldn't bear to be still a moment longer, his
legs flexing and moving his ass up and down on Krycek's cock. That Krycek
appreciated this was obvious in the way his hips rocked to meet Mulder's, those 
long, drugging kisses interrupted by increasingly labored breathing. Mulder
lifted his upper body, and something in the change of angle must have felt
spectacularly good, if his groaning "ohGodyesAlexrightthere" was any
indication.

Their hands separated, and Krycek reached between their bodies. Scully couldn't 
restrain a gasp as those long fingers wrapped around Mulder's plump blood-dark
cock, but the low wail Mulder gave drowned out her lapse. Her clit felt so
swollen she couldn't resist squirming her thighs together, then Krycek started
talking again and she had to slide her own hand inside her pants and rub.

Had to.

"So hard for me, baby. Wanna watch you shoot, watch you come all over me, wanna 
feel it from the inside, Fox- God, baby, now!"

She watched just long enough to see Mulder's come begin to spurt, then had to
close her eyes as her own climax shuddered through her, nearly biting through
her bottom lip in an effort to hold back a cry - not that either man would have 
heard her over the twin roars that heralded their satisfaction.

Oh, God, she was going straight to hell... so it was a good thing she'd enjoyed 
the trip, Scully decided with a silent, giddy laugh. She pulled her fingers out 
of her slacks and sniffed at them appreciatively, then turned her attention
towards whatever Mulder and Krycek were doing now.

They were lying in each other's arms, kissing again, hands stroking tenderly
over sweat-slick skin. She was sure she would find the fact that Mulder and
Krycek were apparently in love quite mind-boggling, as soon as her own
post-orgasmic glow faded. As it was, she was hard put not to break down in a
fit of the giggles, especially when Krycek - with an amazing degree of what
sounded like sincere diffidence - asked Mulder "was that dirty enough for
you?"

"Perfect, baby. Thank you," Mulder replied with a lazy grin. "I knew you could
do it."

Krycek rolled his eyes and pinched Mulder's ass, but Scully was taken aback to
see the younger man actually blush.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"If I didn't know you loved me, I'd be offended, Fox. First, you complain
because I don't make enough noise in bed, then you want actual words from me,
then you're complaining because I don't talk dirty enough. Where will it end?"
Krycek was plainly teasing, but Mulder's hand went to his jaw and drew their
eyes together.

"It'll never end if I've got anything to say about it," Mulder said seriously,
and Krycek smiled at him a little half-heartedly. "What do you think is going
to happen when Scully and Skinner find out?"

"Scully will understand," Mulder said next, confidently. Scully felt her eyes
sting in response to that obvious faith, and hoped she could live up to it.
Krycek sighed and shook his head.

"You are naked and you are not in your right mind. Scully will shoot me and
have you committed... or deprogrammed."

"Can't be done. Deprogramming is an ineffective technique against the teachings 
of the cult of Alex. I thought you knew," Mulder said with a lopsided grin that 
Krycek apparently took as an invitation to kiss away; tiny little lapping
tastes that both men eventually sank into with paired sighs.

Scully shook her head, and wondered if she'd ever seen any two people so much
in love. Their behavior was so sappy it was almost sickening - would have been, 
if it weren't also so overwhelmingly sweet. 

As her mind cleared to its usual sharp performance level, she had to ask
herself how she was going to handle this. If she'd found out any other way,
from Mulder's own lips, for example, she would never have believed that Alex
Krycek was genuine about his feelings... but having spied on them together,
undetected, she had to accept the evidence of her own eyes and ears. It was
still fucking unbelievable, though. Mulder involved in a gay love affair with
*Krycek*? She couldn't have been more astonished had she caught Mulder in bed
with Louis Freeh.

"You still going to help me move some of these boxes down to the basement?"
Mulder asked hopefully. Scully knew she should take that as her cue to sneak
out, but she couldn't bear to stop watching them yet. She excused this to
herself by deciding she was still evaluating the situation.

Yeah, that was it. 

Krycek lifted one skeptical eyebrow.

"Hmm. I don't think manual labor is an approved activity in my cult," Krycek
said, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful air.

"Asshole," Mulder said fondly. "What *is* approved? Besides lots of hot sex and 
the mandatory review of DOT statistics, that is."

She couldn't see what Krycek did, but Mulder let out a whoop and started
giggling- well, she supposed that being a man, he'd hate to hear her call it
giggling, but that's what it was. Mulder quickly retaliated; a brief tussle
that tickled husky laughter out of Krycek. 

Remembering the many times she'd seen Mulder intent on hurting Krycek, Scully
had to shake her head in wonder. She wished she knew how they'd managed to turn 
things around between them so radically, and knew it was a story she'd never
hear if she couldn't make peace with their relationship. Besides, if they made
each other *that* happy, if Krycek could make *Mulder* that happy, she was
going to *have* to find a way to deal, Scully thought, distracted when Krycek
rolled Mulder over and pinned his hands to the mattress.

Hot damn, Krycek had a fine ass.

"Torture isn't an approved activity either," Krycek said in a prim little tone
that had Mulder rolling his eyes derisively. "It's not in my commandments."

"Fine, fine. No torture. What are your commandments, then?"

"There's just one," Krycek said, and gave his hips a little grind that had
Mulder stifling a gasp. "Thou shalt love thy Fox above all other things."

"Ohh. That's so nice. That mean you're gonna help with the boxes?"

"Like I said, fucking relentless. Yes, I'm gonna help you with the damned
boxes. Later."

"You have too much faith in my stamina, baby. The well is dry. And no jokes
about my advanced age," Mulder ordered with a grin that Krycek quickly
returned.

"Would I do that?" Krycek lowered his mouth to Mulder's, licking across
Mulder's lower lip. "Just wanna feel your skin," he added rather hoarsely.
"Soak you up. Wanna remember how this feels..."

"Alexei." 

A long kiss then, which in Scully's eyes seemed to be fueled by the kind of
desperate emotion she associated with sending a loved one off to war. When it
was over, Krycek tucked his face against Mulder's neck and seemed to breathe
him in; imprinting, Scully distantly realized.

"Baby, this isn't the last time we're going to be like this. I promise you,"
Mulder said, the words audible despite being spoken into the top of Krycek's
head.

Krycek sighed.

"Fox, tomorrow isn't promised to any of us."

"That's true, but that's not what this is about, Alex, and you know it. You
don't trust me- don't trust *us*. I know you're afraid I'm going to get up one
morning and go back to hitting you- hating you. What do I have to do to make
you believe in us?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just tell me what I can do."

"I don't know," Krycek almost snapped, pulling away from Mulder so suddenly
that Scully almost jumped. She frowned as she watched the younger man turn his
back towards Mulder - Mulder couldn't see Krycek's face, but she could, thanks
to the dresser mirror - and Krycek looked... miserable; eyes too shiny to be
entirely dry.

"Neither one of us knows how to be happy," Mulder said on his own sigh, sitting 
up and sliding in behind Krycek, his arms going around Krycek's waist. "I just
don't want you to be *scared*, Alex."

"I'm not-" Krycek cut himself off, blushed, then gave a self-conscious shrug,
his eyes meeting Mulder's in the mirror. Scully froze, hoping against hope that 
their attentions were so focused on each other that her reflected presence
behind the boxes would remain unnoticed. Probably a vain hope, but she was
clinging to it.

She couldn't imagine that Krycek would take her sudden appearance too well.
Amazingly enough, she didn't want to make things more difficult for either him
or Mulder. Their current discussion had the tone of a disagreement that was
being revisited, and not for the first time.

To her relief, Krycek twisted about to look at Mulder directly, all that lovely 
color fading to leave his skin porcelain pale. 

"I can't lie to you, Fox. I *am* scared. Scared of losing you. I never had
anything to lose before, except my life, and that hasn't been worth much to me
for a long time. If I lost you now I think I'd- I don't know if I could stay
sane." Krycek's voice took on an almost dreamy timbre, his eyes fixed on
Mulder's. "I think I'd have to burn the world down."

Mulder's hand on Krycek's jaw drew their mouths together, and Scully had to
admit to herself that some of what she was feeling was pure, unadulterated
envy... particularly when Mulder bore Krycek down onto the mattress, their
bodies moving together in a well-rehearsed rhythm.

Mulder tore his mouth off Krycek's in order to stare into those glittering eyes.

"You won't lose me. I won't lose you. Are you listening, Alexei? I don't care
what the old men throw at us, I don't care what Scully or Skinner says. I won't 
let anything come between us. Not now, not ever. You're mine." 

"Yours," Krycek swore raggedly, loosing an inarticulate groan when Mulder's
mouth closed on his throat.

Oh, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the saints. Where the earlier sex had been
playful, loving, and warm, this was- this was pure heat, and what she'd always
imagined sex between men would be like. Rough, almost brutal; careless in the
sense that it didn't seem to matter if fingernails dug into skin a little too
hard, or hands gripped a little too tightly. Almost savage, as Mulder forcibly
turned Krycek face down, moving between his legs with intent. Krycek was far
from unwilling, pushing his ass into Mulder's groin. Mulder growled, then
reached underneath a pillow for something Scully could not see due to the
changed angle, but assumed was lube given the position of Mulder's hand.

Had she not watched them earlier and heard what they'd said to each other, she
might have been tempted to stop Mulder. She certainly would have assumed that
Mulder was hurting Krycek or violating him in some way. Instead, however, she
saw their behavior as elemental as a summer thunderstorm, and she could
appreciate this for what it was: two men fighting to claim each other, marking
each other body and soul. 

Krycek cried out when Mulder slammed into him, something - in Russian? - that
sounded desperately demanding. In a move that made Scully's pelvis ache
emptily, Mulder drew Krycek up, back to chest, and sank his teeth in the back
of Krycek's neck... and Krycek wailed, bucking into Mulder's touch. They fucked 
like animals, furious and wild, grunts and moans sounding a call and response
that moved through her with startling power.

Scully closed her eyes and backed away, refusing to look further. This was too
private, and she wished uselessly that she'd never seen any of it. Mulder's
shouted "Mine!" was echoed by Krycek's "God, Fox!" Long minutes of breathless
panting followed before either man spoke again. 

"we still moving those damned boxes?"

"fuck no. sleep."

"good."

Grinning in spite of herself, Scully slipped out of the bedroom the same way
she'd slipped in, retrieving her belongings along the way. She was at the door
when her cell phone rang inside her purse and nearly startled her into
yelping.

Shit, damn, and hell.

Mind working as quickly as possible under the circumstances, she pulled the
door open silently and then closed it audibly, calling out as she did. 

"Mulder? Mulder!"

With any luck, Mulder would think she'd just walked in as the phone started
ringing.

There was a rather loud thump from the bedroom, and Scully had to bite her
already sore lower lip to keep from laughing out loud, wishing she could see
the looks on their faces.

"Mulder?"

"Just a minute, Scully! I'll be right out! I- I'm... not dressed!" Mulder
shouted as she finally got around to muting her phone's ringtones, something
she should have done earlier, she thought with a grimace. Her caller could
leave voice mail.

"Uh, hi Scully, what brings you by?" Mulder walked through the bedroom door,
which he closed behind him, and Scully's serious mien was tested yet again. 

Dressed in sweatpants and a tee-shirt with his hair sticking up in fifteen
different directions, what was presumably beard burn on one side of his neck
that framed a definite hickey, his mouth swollen and reddened - Mulder was a
posterboy for Sunday afternoon sex. Scully's lips twitched involuntarily but
she controlled herself with a delicate cough.

"Mulder, I've been trying to call you all weekend. I got worried when you
didn't answer either of your phones."

"Oh, that. Sorry. Well, I'm obviously fine, Scully, thank you. Was there
something you wanted?" He walked towards her and took her arm, steering her
towards the door. This near, she could smell the odor of sex rising off his
skin in a headily potent cloud, and she could no longer restrain a smirk as he
reached for the doorknob.

"In a hurry to get rid of me, Mulder?"

As if on cue, there was another thump from the bedroom. Mulder visibly winced,
and Scully couldn't resist laughing.

She opened the door herself, pausing at the last minute to look Mulder in the
eye. Still snickering, she steeled her nerve and patted him on the cheek.

"Go back to bed, Mulder. You can tell me all about it tomorrow... and maybe
next weekend you and Alex can come over for dinner." She watched while his jaw
dropped most satisfactorily, then sauntered down the long hall, leaving her
dumbfounded partner behind.

Fate, destiny, and inextricable relationships. Melissa would have loved this. 

End
6 Feb 2004



### The End ###