Never See Morning
By Jessica Harris


Rating: NC-17 for m/m and triple-A for All Angst, All The Time.
Summary: Krycek in 'demon lover' mode, Mulder has issues but can't help 
himself. 

Notes: This is not part of my Reason Sleeps "almost-alternate" universe. 
It is just an angsty little notion. No beta, so any mistakes or general 
ickiness are mine alone.

Disclaimer: All things X-Files belong to Chris Carter and 1013. And this 
hobby actually *costs* me money.
Feedback: Welcomed with almost pathetic eagerness. lumpj@hotmail.com
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Never See Morning
Jessica Harris
11/19/98
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Mulder woke to a warm weight beside him and Krycek's breath on the back 
of his neck. He didn't move. He wasn't ready to risk belief - it had 
been months since Krycek had paid him one of these secret night-time 
visits, and he had dreamt this dream too many times.

A warm arm snaked around his chest. He could smell his own soap on 
Krycek's skin, feel the dampness of his hair against his shoulder. So he 
really was here, then, and he had showered before coming to bed. He knew 
Mulder liked his natural smell, the richness of heated skin that rose 
from him at the end of the day. What had he been washing off? The scent 
of another man? The reek of blood and gunpowder? Or something less 
tangible - the metallic tang of corruption, of betrayal.

None too gently Krycek bit the back of his neck. 

"I can tell you're awake" he said. 

His hand slid across Mulder's chest, down his belly, and Mulder arched 
into the caress, breath quickening. It felt as good as he remembered and 
he wished it didn't, wished he didn't want this so badly, tried 
uselessly to tell himself again that it wasn't worth it, that he was 
risking everything. When Krycek took hold of his hardening cock he 
groaned with more than pleasure. When had this happened? When had his 
dreams and his nightmares merged in this one man? 


The first time, he had found Krycek waiting in his darkened apartment, 
and had thought that this was it, the last sight he would ever see. And 
even as he realized it was caresses, not blows that he was fighting off, 
and even as he stopped fighting and let his body surge against the other 
man's, he had half-believed he might never see morning. 

But he had. And been ashamed and astonished and then rock-hard again at 
the thought of what he had done. 


The second time, Krycek had appeared silently at the door of the bedroom 
where Mulder lay sleepless and he hadn't thought at all, wanting only to 
repeat that touch of skin against skin, the unimagined pleasure he had 
found at Krycek's cock inside of him. After the third time he had told 
himself that this was impossible, that he wouldn't let it continue, but 
the fourth time he had woken already hard in Krycek's mouth and then 
somehow there was a fifth time and a sixth and some small sane part of 
himself had watched in horror as he had offered a key to the dark-eyed 
man.

"I realize you don't actually *need* this" he had said "but it beats 
picking the locks every time" 

For once Krycek had been struck still and silent. Mulder had reached 
over and slid the key into his front pocket, then slid his hand in after 
it and so there had been a seventh time, and an eighth, and then - 

And then he was gone. The night remained quiet and his bed remained 
empty and Mulder hadn't known what to do. He told himself it was all for 
the best, but his body disagreed, rebellious in its demands, filling his 
dreams and then his waking hours with memories of what had passed 
between them. Both Scully and Skinner had sensed that something was 
wrong but there was no help to be found there - what could he tell them? 
That he was pining for the man who had betrayed them all? That the 
slightest suspicious sound in the night made his cock stiffen, his whole 
body leap to attention in the hopes of finding a traitor at his bedside? 

So he had said nothing, told no one, slept fitfully and dreamt night 
after night. He stroked himself to relieve the want until the feel of 
his own hands was enough to trigger misery in itself, it was so far from 
what he really desired.
 

And now Krycek tugged on his hip-bone, trying to pull the older man back 
against his body and Mulder could feel him hard against his ass and his 
mouth filled with a taste that could have been relief or despair. He 
turned over, half on his stomach, one leg bent, cock stiff against the 
bed-clothes and Krycek took his cue, clever fingers moving into his 
cleft, stroking the opening there gently, teasing. Mulder groaned a 
pleading groan and reached towards the night-stand for supplies but the 
other man slid down his body until his breath was warm where his fingers 
still played and Mulder's heart raced. He never got used to this, the 
intensity of it. His whole body jerked with the first stroke of Krycek's 
tongue and it was electricity, he couldn't keep still, he couldn't stop 
the whimpers that poured from his mouth.

And it was almost enough in itself but then Krycek slid a finger inside 
him, then two, stroking and stretching and laying a foundation of 
pleasure and for the first time that night Mulder spoke.

"Fuck me, Alex" 

"Turn over" said the other man. "I want you to look at me"

So Mulder turned, half-reluctantly, avoiding his gaze as he reached for 
the condoms. "Help me out here" said Krycek and he did, a drop of lube 
in the condom and roll it down Alex's cock, feeling it pulse at his 
touch, hearing him gasp. And at that he finally looked at him and felt 
his stomach clench. The pale face was thinner, the ribs more prominent, 
a new scar ran angry purple-red down his jaw and neck and god, he didn't 
even want to *think* about that, focus on nipples, hard points now and 
collar-bone, impossibly perfect, and he wanted to bury his face blindly 
against that neck but now Krycek captured his eyes and it was too late. 

Alex looked at him, looked straight into his eyes as he slid inside him 
and wouldn't look away even as he started to move, dark eyes holding 
hazel until Mulder felt pinned like an insect. Alex looked and looked at 
him as pleasure invaded Mulder's body and it was strange and raw and 
scary and this was why, this was why he risked it all for these shameful 
secret nights. No one else ever looked at him like that, looked right 
into him and refused to look away . . .

He was melting around a central core of pleasure now, the dark eyes all 
he could see as his hips arched uncontrollably against Krycek's thrusts, 
spine a conduit of pure sensation, breath fluttering raggedly through 
his cries. Then Krycek leaned in to kiss him and - 

//Oh, the *taste* of his mouth//

and Mulder's body convulsed right off the surface of the bed and he came 
so hard it hurt. He shouted into Krycek's mouth, tasted blood as teeth 
caught lip, but Alex wouldn't break the kiss and then Mulder felt the 
other man's release shake him and Krycek fell on top of him as if struck 
down.

Mulder lay stunned and breathless, Alex's hair tickling his lips. He 
wanted to ask forbidden questions - where had he been? Why did he come 
back? 

"You've been gone a long time" was what he finally settled on. Krycek 
moved off him, rolling onto his side and pulling his one-time partner 
into the curve of his body. "I'm here now" he replied obliquely.

And with that Mulder had to be satisfied. 

The full length of Krycek's body was still pressed against him as sleep 
claimed him at last, but he could sense him already slipping away, 
vanishing again. And he knew with heavy certainty that when morning came 
he would wake once more alone.

End.