lumosed_quill (lumosed_quill) wrote in adventdrabbles, @ 2013-12-18 14:59:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | contributor: lumosed_quill, dec18, fandom: x-files, prompt18, year: 2013 |
Dec 18, The X-Files, Mulder/Krycek, "One Piece"
Title: One Piece
Author: lumosed_quill
Fandom: The X-Files
Pairing/Characters: Mulder/Krycek, Scully, anonymous small town law enforcement officials
Rating: NC-17
Words: 720
Prompt: #18 at adventdrabbles, "Christmas Bundt Cake"
Summary: Mulder's always threatening to send bundt cakes to the people he pisses off. He gets a taste of his own medicine.
A/N: For my partner. Because we were just talking about Mulder's bundt cake problem a few days ago, and I couldn't resist. <3
"What is that?" Scully asked from her area.
"I think it's a—" Mulder stared, blinking.
Scully stood. "Mulder, is that a bundt cake?"
"Yeah."
"Someone sent you a bundt cake for Christmas?" She crossed her arms.
"Well, it doesn't say it's for Christmas."
"Today is December twenty-third. Is there a card?"
Mulder fiddled with his lower lip, leaned back in his chair. He shook his head. "Nope."
Scully frowned. "It could be dangerous. I should run some labs tests on it—"
"No," Mulder said probably too quickly. "No, no, I'm sure it's fine." It looked delicious as a matter of fact, dripping thick fingers of icing down its chocolately sides.
"You're always promising to send bundt cakes to the local law enforcement you antagonize and alienate," Scully mused. "Could be one of them."
"Probably," Mulder hedged.
"But you're not curious."
"Where's your Christmas spirit, Scully?"
Scully gave him the Long, Hard Look but then turned back to her area and sat once more, flipping through her latest copy of Autopsy Today.
"You know, I think I will go out for lunch after all," he said suddenly, grabbing up his suit jacket with a flourish.
"That's great, Mulder." Scully gave him the Mild, Approving Smile. "Some fresh air would be good for you."
Never mind that she had spent the better part of their last case happily bent over an autopsy bay.
"I'm going to stop by the Smithsonian, too, and see if they've got a definitive analysis of those bones," he said. "See you in a couple of hours."
She raised her coffee mug in answer, already not listening.
Mulder tried not to look like he was racing out the door, the bundt cake box slung under his arm.
*
Mulder moved stealthily through his own apartment, and for good reason. One step into his living room and Alex Krycek had his back slammed against the nearest wall, his hot, shivery breath in Mulder's face.
"What the hell are you doing here, you fucking prick?" Mulder seethed.
Krycek gave him a little shove where his hand was balled into Mulder's tie. "I think we both know the answer to that, Mulder." His eyes were menacing and dark.
Mulder flipped them, shoving Krycek back now. "You arrogant shit."
"Did you get it?" Now that he wasn't the one in control, he was all sexy sighs.
"I got it," Mulder shot back.
Krycek smiled.
Mulder fought the desire to return it and instead mashed his mouth to Krycek's and thrust his tongue inside. Krycek started work on Mulder's belt buckle. Mulder smacked his hand aside and did it himself while Krycek fumbled with his own jeans.
They fought over it for a bit, but then Krycek's hand wrapped around them both and Mulder let him, starting to fuck his hips, his face fitting into the slope of Krycek's neck. Mulder breathed leather and chocolate while Krycek brought them both off.
"Fuck…" Mulder gritted out. "Fuck, fuck… Fuck you, Krycek."
Krycek just whined, his thumb doing amazing things over the slit of Mulder's cock.
Too soon, Mulder pulled back.
"So," Krycek panted once Mulder had walked away and grabbed some tissues from a nearby Kleenex box, handing a few to Krycek (who was, admittedly, the bigger mess). "Did you eat any yet?"
"I ate all of it," Mulder lied. "What, did you think I was going to share it with you, Krycek?"
Krycek frowned, that ridiculous crease forming over his pert nose. He cast a look around the corner into the foyer and, no doubt, saw the untouched cake sitting there on the table. When he turned back, he was smiling.
"You don't deserve any," Mulder told him. "It was a fucking stupid and reckless thing to do, sending it to my office."
"Well, I'm fucking stupid and reckless, Mulder," Krycek said.
"That explains it."
They stared at each other for a moment, and Mulder felt that familiar tug of war: bitterness and hurt versus unadulterated excitement.
"One piece," he allowed.
He went into his kitchen to fetch a knife, and he thought maybe Krycek murmured, "Merry Christmas, Mulder," but it could have been something else. It could have been anything, Mulder told himself.
"Merry Christmas, Krycek," he muttered under his breath.
But it could have been nothing at all.