X-Files  M/K Fight Club Tour
Title:  Crave
Author:  Nicole S.

Rating:  NC-17 for bad language, violence and m/m sex.

Archive : You betcha, baby.

Feed me, baby!  nicxf@softhome.net

http://members.tripod.com/Nic-S

Spoilers: HUGE one for "Brand X" in season 7

Disclaimer: Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox sadly own 'em, I don't.  Although after the
fiascoes called season 6 and season 7, I'm convinced they should just give Mulder, Krycek and
the rest of them to the fic writers of the world as we do a MUCH better job of utilizing the
characters to their fullest potential.

Summary:  For the M/K fight club tour location challenge - M/K, a fight, a fuck, and nicotine
cravings - hoo yeah!

Check out M/K Fight Club at http://punched.com/mkfightclub.

Warning:  Twisted sex, blood, burnt flesh and fighting!

Comments:  Beta by Amy B, Orithain and Aries.  Additional thanks to Tyler for awesome
encouragement.  This story also fulfills the Fight Club Location Challenge.  The corresponding
picture should be posted at Fight Club and at my site with this story.  This is just basically
smut.

Two armed Krycek's fight in my Fight Club.  This whole story is based on the very last scene in
"Brand X".  I used to smoke; I know what it's like to be addicted.  Apologies to my SOT
sisters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Crave"  by Nicole S.
(5/2000)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

S. 4th & W. Michigan, Duluth, Minnesota

Mulder grunted and swore as Krycek's punch landed square on his lower left ribs, surely
cracking a few in the process.  It hurt like fucking hell, but he swung back anyway, catching
Krycek on the chin.

Krycek stumbled back from the hit, most likely weakened by previous blows.  He crouched low to
protect his face, leaving his back and side to suffer the brunt of Mulder's punches.

Almost bent double by the pain, Mulder went at Krycek anyway, slapping him on the side of the
head by his ear, then pulled back, his fists ready for a one-two combination that would surely
put the other man out.  He'd saved this punch for the very end so he could drop Krycek to the
ground, catch his breath, then take his reward out on his ass.

// Oh yeah, that's going to be sweet,// Mulder thought as he pictured Krycek on his knees...
no, pressed up against the blonde brick wall of the building beside them, moaning in both
pleasure and pain as Mulder took him - bare back - no lube - that was more than enough
incentive to fight through the discomfort of a broken rib or two.

He glanced at Krycek who was still shaking off that last smack.  This was going to be easy.

Mulder went at Krycek full force, a gleam in his eye and a feral snarl on his face.  He wanted
his cock up Krycek's ass so bad he could taste it.  And hell, maybe he'd do that, too!

Krycek had his head down and was breathing heavily as Mulder swung, his fist aching to deliver
the final blow.  But suddenly, Krycek's head snapped up, and the punch was blocked by his arm.
An astonished Mulder moved his other fist, but that was blocked as well. Then an object gleamed
for a second in the yellow lights of the deserted street, and Mulder's entire world suddenly
faded to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mulder knew he was standing and that his arms were over his head.  He could feel ropes around
his wrists keeping him where he was.  He could also feel a metal object, probably a pipe,
caressing the palms of his hands, cold and hard.  If he moved his hands, he could probably hang
onto the pipe, but he couldn't do much of anything right now.

His shirt was off, his nipples stiff in the cool air, but it smelled dusty here; he was
definitely inside.  He tried to open his eyes, but the naked light bulb over his head made them
ache, so he shut them quickly.  The back of his head hurt like a motherfucker, and he could
feel slimy congealed blood in his hair, trickling down to his neck.

The opening flick of a zippo lighter sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.  Mulder moaned
at the noise, his head pounding to the beat of his pulse.

He breathed in the smell of butane then heard the grinding of flint against metal as a wheel
was turned, creating a flame that Mulder couldn't see.  He could hear as the flame ignited
something, then the lighter was snapped shut, the sound as loud as an atomic bomb, making him
wince.  Then he heard someone take a breath.

Mulder shivered, suddenly very cold clad just in his jeans.  The metal pole at his hands and
concrete under his sneakered feet seemed to suck all the heat from his body at that moment.  He
pulled at the ropes, but they held fast.  He cursed silently to himself; Krycek was playing
dirty again.  This was clearly against the rules.

The sweet smell of Virginia tobacco suddenly invaded his nostrils, causing him to breathe in
deeply.  The craving was intense, causing his mouth to water and his cock to twitch.

Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, causing the pain at the back of his head to throb even
harder.  He could see Krycek leaning against a pole a few feet away smoking his cigarette,
exhaling grey clouds up toward the ceiling.

"This isn't fair, Krycek," Mulder said quietly, his head aching with every word said.

"Life isn't fair."

"Why can't you play by the rules?"

"Rules are made to be broken."

Krycek breathed a puff of smoke toward Mulder, who opened his mouth as if catching drops of
rain on his tongue.

"Nicotine's more addictive than heroin.  You've said that yourself," Krycek said, moving closer
to Mulder, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, moving as he talked.  "I know what they did
to you with the tobacco bugs, and I know what you want.  I know how much you crave it."

Krycek brought out a new cigarette from the package and held it under Mulder's nose.  Mulder
breathed in the aroma of fresh tobacco, then it was gone.  He whimpered, his tongue moving out
of his mouth to moisten his lips and catch some of the smoke wafting up from Krycek's lit
cigarette.

Krycek took a drag and blew the smoke into Mulder's face again.  His hands wandered down
Mulder's naked chest, and he started moving his hips in a sensual rhythm.  He continued to puff
on the cigarette, moving his hands lower down Mulder's torso to the trail of hair that
disappeared into the waistband of his jeans.  He started caressing the bulge that was forming
in Mulder's pants, massaging it.  Mulder's eyelids fluttered with every squeeze, feeling
himself getting harder and harder.  Slowly, Krycek brought his jeans' zipper down and moved his
hands inside Mulder's underwear to expose his hard cock.

Krycek took a long  pull of his cigarette, removed it from his mouth, then leaned in and kissed
Mulder, his tongue probing inside for a mere second before pulling back in a smoky swirl.

"Please," Mulder whispered.

Krycek exhaled the grey-blue smoke that he'd denied Mulder to swirl up and around the naked
light bulb.  He took another drag, the fingers of one hand holding the smoke while the other
caressed Mulder's cock.  He pressed his lips to Mulder's again, this time breathing the smoke
out and into his lungs.  Mulder's cock jumped in his hand.

"And you call me a slut," Krycek whispered against Mulder's mouth.  Mulder took his lip between
his teeth and bit down, gaining a grunt of pain from Krycek, who pulled back and licked the
blood away from his lip.  Then he dropped the cigarette to the ground and snuffed it under the
heel of his boot before smiling at Mulder, blood streaking his teeth.

As much as moving hurt, Mulder gripped the pipe above his head and moved his hips back and
forth, fucking the air in front of him.  His chest ached from the fight, and his heavy
breathing didn't do much to quell the pain.  His head throbbed in time with his dick, making
his body feel like one raw vein, pulsing to the beat of some hidden drum.  The taste of
Krycek's blood on his tongue just made him harder, giving him a need for release.  He moaned as
Krycek moved away and took off his leather jacket, revealing a black t-shirt.

Krycek spat then smiled again, the blood now gone from his mouth.  Mulder noticed the bruising
around Krycek's throat, the familiar pattern of his own fingers showing a necklace of pain.
Krycek didn't take off his t-shirt, but Mulder knew there was a nasty gash in his side from
contact with a fire hydrant.  His shirt was ripped and wet with blood - not a lot, but enough
to give Mulder the satisfaction of knowing Alex was injured more badly than he let on. //
That's gonna leave a scar.//

Krycek moved in closer.  "I know you want me, and you want a cigarette, Mulder.  But you have
to ask yourself which one do you want more?"  Krycek turned and lit another cigarette.  "How
far are you able to go for what you want?"

Mulder just moaned in frustration and grabbed the pipe his hands were bound to.

Krycek blew more smoke into Mulder's face.  "How far, Mulder?"  He placed the burning end close
to Mulder's chest, singeing a few chest hairs.  He held the cigarette there, the heat making
Mulder twich.

"Which do you want more, Mulder?  Me fucking you up the ass?  Or the feeling of the smoke
filling your lungs, making your head spin and bringing you the high you desire the most?"  He
pressed the end of the cigarette into Mulder's chest with a sizzle, while his other hand
continued to massage Mulder's cock.

Mulder jumped in pain, then sighed in pleasure as the two sensations fought to outweigh each
other.  The smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the room, assaulting Mulder's nostrils.
"Please..." he whimpered again.

"What do you want, Mulder?"

Krycek moved the cigarette lower down Mulder's torso and held it above the skin, again singeing
the hairs.  Mulder gripped the pipe harder, his nails fighting to dig in as he waited for the
pain to come.  Another sizzle and smell of burnt skin, then it was over.  This time he cried
out, he was so hard and this hurt so much.  The back of his head still pounded, and he really,
really wanted a...

"Nicotine or me.  Name your poison."  Krycek took another drag.

"I want..."

"Yes?"

"I want you..."

"You want me..."

"I want you to give me a fucking cigarette."

Krycek stepped back and flicked the butt at Mulder, where it caught him on the belly before
dropping to the floor, sending sparks out among his abdomen.  Mulder looked down to see a few
hairs shriveling up from the heat then looked back at Krycek, who was unbuttoning his jeans.  A
sigh of relief left his lips before he could stop it.

Krycek stopped at the sound of Mulder's sigh, and a wicked smile crossed his face.  He leaned
back against the pole and did up his pants before folding his arms against his chest as best he
could with the gash in his side.  "I think I'm going to let you cool off for a while," he said,
then left.

Mulder whimpered to himself as he watched Krycek leave the room.  He pulled on the ropes that
held him but found the knots still tight.  The smell of cigarette smoke still permeated the
room, and his exposed cock twitched in the cold, dusty air.  All around him, plumbing fixtures
and lengths of pipe were stacked high to the ceiling, blocking his view of where Krycek had
gone.

He could still taste Krycek's blood in his mouth, and that did nothing to quell his erection.
He cursed himself for wanting to fuck Krycek so bad.  And now he was left to his own thoughts
about seeking revenge, which did nothing to relieve him of his hardness, in fact, most of them
made his situation worse.  He had driven himself to such a frenzy that he was trying to will
himself to come when Krycek suddenly appeared around the corner.

"You cooled off yet?" he said as he stalked toward him.

Mulder licked his lips.

Krycek grabbed Mulder's cock and pulled on it, making him whimper some more. "Jesus Christ,
Mulder, you really know how to work yourself up, don't you?"

Mulder didn't say anything.

Krycek continued to pull on his cock.  "Technically I won that fight..."

"You cheated."

"C'mon, Mulder, you wanted me to win."  Krycek moved closer and licked up Mulder's face then
kissed him deeply.  Mulder could taste the smoke on his tongue.  "I know you love it when I
fuck you."  Mulder sucked in his breath as Krycek kneaded his ass with one hand and undid his
jeans with the other.

"I know you like it, I know you want it..."  Krycek snaked a finger into the cleft of Mulder's
ass and began pressing it against his hole, continuing to murmur into Mulder's ear as he
widened the opening, digging his fingers in and moving them around.  Soon, Krycek moved around
back of Mulder, spat on his hands, lubed up his cock, then thrust inside.

Mulder bucked at the sensation.  He did want this.  He liked it when Krycek took him like this,
rough and ready, being tied up only added to the excitement.  He moved his hips back and forth,
groaning as Krycek fucked him, sending endorphins racing through his body.  God, it was coming
quick, and all he needed was one more thrust, right where it...

Krycek stopped.

An anguished cry left Mulder's lips.  His eyes were spinning.  Why the hell had Krycek stopped?
Then he heard the zippo flick open, grinding of flint, and the heat of the flame as a cigarette
was lit.  The zippo snapped shut, then Krycek took a long drag, blowing it out around Mulder's
head.  Tendrils of smoke curled up and around Mulder's face, causing him to breathe in sharply.

Krycek resumed fucking Mulder, but instead of the wild thrusting of before, it was slow,
sensual movements.  He ground his hips into Mulder's buttocks, puffing on the cigarette hanging
out of his mouth and blowing the smoke around Mulder's head.  He used the hairs on the back of
Mulder's neck to wipe the cool ash from the tip, leaving the red-hot cherry to burn the skin.

Mulder gasped at the sensation of being burnt once again, but kept moving his hips in tune with
Krycek's.  Sweat was starting to prick across his body when Krycek burnt him again.  This time,
Mulder moaned and closed his eyes; he was close, he could feel it in the base of his balls.
Quickly the pressure rose, and he knew he had to relieve himself, or he'd surely die.  Another
hot flash of fire on his neck was all it took to hurl him into a screaming orgasm, sending long
streams of come onto the concrete floor.

He didn't notice Krycek come, but in a few minutes, he was cut from his bonds.  He sat on the
floor and leaned back against a large rack of PVC pipe and closed his eyes.  He hadn't come
like that in a long time, and he needed to catch his breath.  He was drifting away on a
semi-conscious haze when he was vaguely aware that Krycek was standing before him.  He felt a
few things being dropped in his lap, and then Krycek was gone.

Mulder opened his eyes and looked down in his lap where a fresh pack of Morley's and the zippo
lighter lay.  He broke open the package and quickly lit one, the smoke burning down to the
bottom of his lungs.  He fondled the lighter with his thumb, something was engraved on it.  He
turned it over so he could read it, "Loser."

Staring at the word, Mulder's smirk grew into a laugh.  He took another drag on the cigarette
but decided he didn't want it anymore, grinding it against the concrete floor before getting
dressed, and tossing the package of cigarettes aside as he left.

The End