As a relative newbie to the M/K fandom, this year has been both exciting and
difficult. With the events that didn't really happen in last season's finale,
there seemed to be a fear spreading that M/K fandom wouldn't survive much
longer. It was sometimes hard to stay optimistic. But all I have to do is look
at the incredible stories being written and the amazing efforts of both
newcomers and veterans to see that Mulder and Krycek are both very much alive
and well in the heart's of a great number of fans. And still as drawn to one
another as ever.
The long story is a favourite of mine. This year nominees are some of the best
stories I have had the privilege to read. They kept me on the edge of my seat,
accompanying Mulder and Krycek on their adventures. Whether they're trying to
solve a case or trying to puzzle out their feelings, it's always exciting to
watch the story unfold. Nominated this year are six fantastic stories by five
very talented writers.
Biological Imperative by Loren Q
The rest of the afternoon was spent scaring a lot of
homeless people, and coming up with zero. We decided
to stop and get some rest for our late night
excursions.
"Not a damn thing," I tell Krycek.
"Hey, we'll have better luck tonight," he says
encouragingly. "Well, at least it can't get worse."
Working together, we've built an easy camaraderie. I
never would have thought that could happen. And
somehow, with that ease, I found myself looking at him
constantly. I had to re-focus on our search... but my
mind--my body--kept pulling me away.
Krycek pulls into the motel parking lot. "When should
I pick you up?" He asks, yawning.
It's contagious. I yawn back, he yawns again.
"Stop, damn it," I finally spit out. He tries
valiantly, but fails.
"Uh, look, we're both tired. Why don't you just come
in with me?"
He shakes his head. "I don't think that's a good idea,
Mulder."
"Why? You off to perform some nefarious act?" I was
startled by my offer, but now that it's out I'm going
to back it up.
"No, but if I stay, I might perform one," he replies
with a small smile.
"I'm not worried." Oh, shit... what am I getting
myself into?
Breathe by Satina and Orangey
"You know," I say slowly, cocking my head and staring
into his enigmatic green depths, "I believe that you
probably *could* bring me down if we were going head
to head." I stop, and seeing the nervousness making
its way into those dark eyes, I know he can tell I'm
not done. "But I also think I know your real weakness
now, Krycek," I say, and grind my crotch into his hip,
pressing my thigh firmly into his answering hardness.
He lets out a whimpering grunt that I find immensely
satisfying, although once again I bite back my own
sound of pleasure. "It's the soft touch you're afraid
of," I say quietly, leaning in closer; so close I can
see the tiny dots of perspiration on his cheeks.
"Like when I held your arm." I glance down at the
prosthetic, hanging limply at his side. "You would
have thought I was attacking you, the way you jumped
out of that chair."
I'm pushing all the right buttons. I can see it on
his face, in the way he tries to look away, then
blinks rapidly, squinting as I hold his gaze. I can
feel his body giving way under mine, the only real
tension left being that in the arm that grips mine and
the stiff bulge against my thigh. "That's it, isn't
it Krycek?" I ask, sliding my hand down the wall at
his side. He nervously tries to follow its path with
his eyes but my forearm across his throat blocks
his attempts. "What's the matter, Alex?" I purr,
feeling his body twitch beneath mine as he hears his
first name. I lean in closer, my lips at his ear,
and bring my hips back from his just far enough to get
my hand between us. My cheek brushes against his and
I feel the stubble from several days...smell his
sweat and musk, and as I close my hand over his
granite-like length, my voice comes out in a harsh,
shuddering whisper. "Scared?"
Cauterized by Orangy and Satina
"You lost an arm, Alex," I say, reverting to his first
name again. "You came here for revenge, and all you
were going to take was a finger?"
I see him considering, blinking through the shock and
puzzlement, struggling to come up with an answer.
"I just..." His voice is cracked and nearly
inaudible. He clears his throat and straightens up,
turning to face me completely, blade held loosely at
his side. "I guess I just wanted something I could
take with me." His eyes stay trained on mine and I
don't look away either.
"So. Let me get this straight," I say, tightening my
grip on the gun perfunctorily. "Your plan was to
break in here, beat me up, rape me, and then cut off a
finger as a memento of the evening. Is that right?"
His eyes flutter closed for just a moment. He's
ashamed. Well he fucking well should be. I wait.
"That about covers it," he grates. I see his grip on
the knife handle tighten and my body tenses, ready for
a fight.
"So what happened, Alex?"
His eyes open and he looks at me, and there is
undeniable pain behind those eyes as he answers.
"You...you wanted me."
Gender Bender by Cappucino
"You haven't hardly said a word the whole trip, you
keep staring at me, and..." he exhaled to try to get
the panicked edge out of his voice, and his own breath
bouncing off the other man's lips and back on to his
own made him only too aware of how close they really
were.
He moved to back away and froze as the movement made
the erection he hadn't even noticed he had got, brush
against the fabric in his pants, sending electric
jolts up through his stomach. There was a brief second
when he only stared down at himself, then he quickly
lifted his gaze, but too late.
Krycek's intense eyes were already fixed on the bulge
in his jeans, and when he looked up again he had a
knowing expression and the slightest hint of a smirk
around his mouth.
"I see." His voice was a soft breath, and Mulder
jerked back as hands reached for his face, but the
small cubicle allowed for no escape.
"Get off, you fu -" then he gasped as his head was
tipped backwards and Krycek licked his neck, slowly,
slowly, all the way from the base of his throat up to
his chin. "Jesus."
The hot wet tongue burned against his skin, and for a
moment, all Mulder could do was clasp the shoulders
pressing up against him and hold on as the sudden
quickening of his heartbeats sent his alcohol-induced
blood surging through his veins.
Involuntarily, he leaned after the touch of lips as
they retreated back again, only to forget that and
anything else as soon as their hips made contact. In
front of him, Krycek leaned against the door and,
without faltering in his steady gaze on Mulder's face,
pulled him closer to rub their groins together. Mulder
was surprised he managed to keep upright as white hot
flashes of incredible pleasure spiked his brain.
"What do you think you are doing?" The words would
have sounded harsher if they had not been mumbled into
Krycek's shoulder, and Mulder was only too aware that
he was doing something he might have resisted had he
been sober.
The thought fuelled his anger, and he pressed even
harder in between the legs that spread accommodatingly
to allow him access.
He knew somewhere inside that this was crazy - more
than that, it was stupid, wrong and dangerous, but
then the handcuffs scraped across his face as Krycek
tried for leverage, and the reminder turned his
concerns into a wild chorus of 'yes, yes, yes, oh god,
yes'.
His head was spinning with sensations and responses,
all uninvited, all incredible. Was this what Alex was
like, hard and hot and tasting so good.
How could this be? How could this be him?
//Because it's not.//
Still Burning by Ratadder
"No, it's just me," I answer without thought. "But
I'll tell you what I'm thinking. I'm thinking I like
that. It feels nice." Ah, my old friend omission.
The right thing to say. His smile gets wider, if
possible. "Good." He moves a little bit closer, face
nestling toward mine. "You lived up to a hell of a lot
of fantasies, Mr. Krycek."
I blush before I can catch myself. It's less a
reflection on what he's said than it is on what's
going through my mind... because it's true for me too.
His performance definitely lived up to years of
fantasies and daydreams. I feel an odd pressure in my
chest and before I realize what I'm doing, I'm saying,
"You too." I need to get up.
"Will you stay for dinner with me and Sam? I know
she'd like to talk to you."
Dinner? "I don't... another time?"
"You need to go." His voice is resigned.
"I should."
"She'll be disappointed."
"I'd like to stay, but..." But I really need to go.
Get home. Take a shower.
"But you need to go." And suddenly he's sitting up.
Syncretistic by Loren Q
"Krycek?"
"Hmm?" He turns to look at me.
"How did you get Connie Moreno to warm up to you like
that?"
I watch a slow smile come over his face. "It was my
poise and charm. Not to mention my boyish good
looks."
Glaring at him. "No, seriously. How did you know what
to do?"
He shrugs and replies, "I don't know, really. I was
nice to her."
"And *I* wasn't?"
He presses his lips together for a moment. "You're
driven, Mulder. Sometimes you're so intent on getting
to the truth... to the point, you forget you're
dealing with a person. She was hurting and I responded
to that."
I stare out into traffic. His words cut into me. I
know he's right, but still, to be told by... *him*.
Feeling his hand on my arm, I turn to look at him.
"Mulder, it's all right. Really." Alex Krycek, the
empathetic assassin.
