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darkhavensAuthor: darkhavens
Title: Damned
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek of X Files
Rating: PG-13
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Amputations and prosthetics. :P
Summary: Mulder figures himself out
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slashthedrabble's challenge #33 - Kink
Damned
The violence isn’t a part of this particular kink, it’s a by-product. Or maybe, all things considered, it’s a lizard-brain defence mechanism. Sometimes it’s all that distracts Mulder from doing what he aches to do – peeling that leather jacket off, stripping away the shirt and then… what exactly? Pleading to be touched? Demanding to be fucked? Begging to feel that synthetic, prosthetic limb on his bare flesh? All that and more.
Sometimes he wakes, wet, sticky, breathless, limp and sated, still feeling that inhuman grasp wrapped vice-like around his cock. He keeps his eyes closed, trying not to breathe or twitch a muscle, knowing that once he sees the empty room, feels the sheet against his skin, he’s alone again inside his mind and the ache begins anew.
If that was the whole of it he might have stood a chance. But this heretofore unrecognised philia for certain dextrous prostheses – yes, he is quite certain that the man has more than one – isn’t the only sexual quirk he’s recently developed.
He’s dreamed - and not only while asleep, to his shame - of the things that hand could do to him, for him… in him. But he’s also dreamt of what might happen after, once the leather and plastic, metal and silicone have been stripped away. He’s wondered whether anyone has taken the time to trace the scars, to lick, and kiss, and tease each abruptly ended pinpoint nerve. He doubts it; knows that many would turn away in disgust or empathy, but he also knows that, were he given the chance, he wouldn’t flinch.
Never one to shirk the research, Mulder has spent long hours on the web in search of answers. He’s stared at manufactured hands and a thousand different stumps, and has come to the damning conclusion that Krycek is his kink.
Title: Damned
Pairing: Mulder/Krycek of X Files
Rating: PG-13
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Amputations and prosthetics. :P
Summary: Mulder figures himself out
Notes: Written for
slashthedrabble's challenge #33 - KinkDamned
The violence isn’t a part of this particular kink, it’s a by-product. Or maybe, all things considered, it’s a lizard-brain defence mechanism. Sometimes it’s all that distracts Mulder from doing what he aches to do – peeling that leather jacket off, stripping away the shirt and then… what exactly? Pleading to be touched? Demanding to be fucked? Begging to feel that synthetic, prosthetic limb on his bare flesh? All that and more.
Sometimes he wakes, wet, sticky, breathless, limp and sated, still feeling that inhuman grasp wrapped vice-like around his cock. He keeps his eyes closed, trying not to breathe or twitch a muscle, knowing that once he sees the empty room, feels the sheet against his skin, he’s alone again inside his mind and the ache begins anew.
If that was the whole of it he might have stood a chance. But this heretofore unrecognised philia for certain dextrous prostheses – yes, he is quite certain that the man has more than one – isn’t the only sexual quirk he’s recently developed.
He’s dreamed - and not only while asleep, to his shame - of the things that hand could do to him, for him… in him. But he’s also dreamt of what might happen after, once the leather and plastic, metal and silicone have been stripped away. He’s wondered whether anyone has taken the time to trace the scars, to lick, and kiss, and tease each abruptly ended pinpoint nerve. He doubts it; knows that many would turn away in disgust or empathy, but he also knows that, were he given the chance, he wouldn’t flinch.
Never one to shirk the research, Mulder has spent long hours on the web in search of answers. He’s stared at manufactured hands and a thousand different stumps, and has come to the damning conclusion that Krycek is his kink.
