Take Your Clothes Off
folder
S through Z › X-Files
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,427
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › X-Files
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,427
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Files. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Take Your Clothes Off
Fic: Take Your Clothes Off
by PEJA
Fandom: XFiles
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek/Skinner
Portrayed by David Duchovny/Nicholas Lea/Mitch Pileggi
Summary: Mulder catches Krycek during a midnight visit. Response to Scribe's challenge to write a fic that includes the words "Take your clothes off."
Warning: Angry Mulder and Skinner came out toward the end of this.
"Take your clothes off."
Krycek froze as the words speared him out of the pitch black darkness. With no further warning, glaring light hit him full in the eyes, blinding him temporarily and he instinctively raised an arm to shade them and turned his head toward the voice.
"I said take off your clothes." Mulder repeated, his voice dangerous, deadly. The gun in his hand wasn't there to lend any reassurance either.
Gun not withstanding, Krycek was a survivor. His practiced smirk lifted a corner of his full sensual lips and he brazened an amused chuckle. "You have got to be kidding."
Mulder's eyes narrowed, his finger steady on the trigger. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
Krycek's lips quivered slightly, his boldness faltering as he stared down the blue grey barrel of the gun in Mulder's hand. "Look, Mulder, we can end this before it gets ugly."
"Clothes." Mulder growled, his narrowed eyes slitting even farther. "Off. Now."
Sweat broke on Krycek's brow and he lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, don't get tense now, okay." His hands moved down the buttons of his shirt freeing them one by one. "What are you going to do, Mulder?" he asked, shrugging out of the black satin shirt.
Mulder smirked through a short, frightening laugh.
"Come on, Mulder, If you wanted to scare me, good job, now what say we...."
"The rest of 'em." Mulder lowered the gun toward Krycek's groin. "Off."
Realization fell on Krycek like a torrent of freezing rain, chilling him through and through. The shirt dropped from suddenly numb fingers. "What are you going to do to me?"
Mulder's finger tightened on the trigger.
"No, wait." Krycek struggled with numb fingers on the buttons on his fly. A sheen of sweat broke over him as his fingers refused to cooperate.
In a tiny corner of his mind a voice chided that Mulder was gonna kill him. Krycek knew it as certainly as he know night followed day. He could smell his own death in the air.
All because he couldn't get his horror numbed fingers to slip a few buttons out of denim holes.
What the fuck. If he was going to die, might as well make it worth his while.
His hands dropped in fists at his side. "Forget it, Mulder. If you're gonna kill me, do it. I'm not playing this game with you."
Strong hands curled around his forearms, holding him in a painfully tight grip. "Oh, you're going to play all right." Another voice murmured against his ear.
Krycek shuddered at the sound of Skinner's soft spoken words. One of these warrior men, he might have been able to handle, but not both of them. Not unbalanced as he found himself to be.
His head whirled and for a moment he contemplated that his captors might have drugged him somehow. It was the only explanation for his sluggish responses, his fogged thought processes.
Yeah, they'd drugged him and were toying with him like a cat with a mouse. No, a rat. They had dubbed him a rat bastard after the first betrayal. Now they were playing with him until they got bored and chewed off his head.
The vision of this had another shudder sweeping through his thin frame.
So this was how he was gonna buy it.
Rough fingers at his fly, tearing it open brought him back to the time at hand. He watched the buttons flip flop across the floor, visualizing in his minds eye a sharp claw ripping through several layers of rat skin. And a smile played over is lips.
The smile earned him a smashing blow across the face. Another visual, this time a clawed paw to a suddenly dazed rat's head.
He would have fallen to his knees if it weren't for a steel-hard arm wrapped in a crushing embrace around his waist.
His arm tightening past endurance, Skinner lifted him off his feet. Mulder's fingers were on his waistband then, dragging down the tight jeans, leaving long bloodied strips of torn flesh in his legs from Mulder's raking nails.
His mind overloaded on the nightmare and his head dropped backward onto Skinner's shoulders as the world went black before his eyes.
end part 1
by PEJA
Fandom: XFiles
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek/Skinner
Portrayed by David Duchovny/Nicholas Lea/Mitch Pileggi
Summary: Mulder catches Krycek during a midnight visit. Response to Scribe's challenge to write a fic that includes the words "Take your clothes off."
Warning: Angry Mulder and Skinner came out toward the end of this.
"Take your clothes off."
Krycek froze as the words speared him out of the pitch black darkness. With no further warning, glaring light hit him full in the eyes, blinding him temporarily and he instinctively raised an arm to shade them and turned his head toward the voice.
"I said take off your clothes." Mulder repeated, his voice dangerous, deadly. The gun in his hand wasn't there to lend any reassurance either.
Gun not withstanding, Krycek was a survivor. His practiced smirk lifted a corner of his full sensual lips and he brazened an amused chuckle. "You have got to be kidding."
Mulder's eyes narrowed, his finger steady on the trigger. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
Krycek's lips quivered slightly, his boldness faltering as he stared down the blue grey barrel of the gun in Mulder's hand. "Look, Mulder, we can end this before it gets ugly."
"Clothes." Mulder growled, his narrowed eyes slitting even farther. "Off. Now."
Sweat broke on Krycek's brow and he lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, don't get tense now, okay." His hands moved down the buttons of his shirt freeing them one by one. "What are you going to do, Mulder?" he asked, shrugging out of the black satin shirt.
Mulder smirked through a short, frightening laugh.
"Come on, Mulder, If you wanted to scare me, good job, now what say we...."
"The rest of 'em." Mulder lowered the gun toward Krycek's groin. "Off."
Realization fell on Krycek like a torrent of freezing rain, chilling him through and through. The shirt dropped from suddenly numb fingers. "What are you going to do to me?"
Mulder's finger tightened on the trigger.
"No, wait." Krycek struggled with numb fingers on the buttons on his fly. A sheen of sweat broke over him as his fingers refused to cooperate.
In a tiny corner of his mind a voice chided that Mulder was gonna kill him. Krycek knew it as certainly as he know night followed day. He could smell his own death in the air.
All because he couldn't get his horror numbed fingers to slip a few buttons out of denim holes.
What the fuck. If he was going to die, might as well make it worth his while.
His hands dropped in fists at his side. "Forget it, Mulder. If you're gonna kill me, do it. I'm not playing this game with you."
Strong hands curled around his forearms, holding him in a painfully tight grip. "Oh, you're going to play all right." Another voice murmured against his ear.
Krycek shuddered at the sound of Skinner's soft spoken words. One of these warrior men, he might have been able to handle, but not both of them. Not unbalanced as he found himself to be.
His head whirled and for a moment he contemplated that his captors might have drugged him somehow. It was the only explanation for his sluggish responses, his fogged thought processes.
Yeah, they'd drugged him and were toying with him like a cat with a mouse. No, a rat. They had dubbed him a rat bastard after the first betrayal. Now they were playing with him until they got bored and chewed off his head.
The vision of this had another shudder sweeping through his thin frame.
So this was how he was gonna buy it.
Rough fingers at his fly, tearing it open brought him back to the time at hand. He watched the buttons flip flop across the floor, visualizing in his minds eye a sharp claw ripping through several layers of rat skin. And a smile played over is lips.
The smile earned him a smashing blow across the face. Another visual, this time a clawed paw to a suddenly dazed rat's head.
He would have fallen to his knees if it weren't for a steel-hard arm wrapped in a crushing embrace around his waist.
His arm tightening past endurance, Skinner lifted him off his feet. Mulder's fingers were on his waistband then, dragging down the tight jeans, leaving long bloodied strips of torn flesh in his legs from Mulder's raking nails.
His mind overloaded on the nightmare and his head dropped backward onto Skinner's shoulders as the world went black before his eyes.
end part 1